‘That must have been difficult.’
‘New home, new school, trying to make friends, every nine months.’ He gave a ghost of a smile. ‘Yeah, it was tough. But it was harder on Mum. Mattie was just a baby, and because we were always moving—not even always to where my father was, if he was on exercise—she didn’t have a support network of friends and family. She couldn’t have a career, although I think she would have liked one, she just had to find a part-time role to fit in around Mattie and I. And all the responsibility for family was on her.’
‘I can’t imagine,’ Bridget said quietly. Sincerely. And he loved how she could convey such empathy without sounding either patronising,or gushing.
‘She became depressed. Nothing suicidal, but meandering through mild to moderate depression, then back to being okay. Sometimes the house would be a tip. All the time. She could barely get herself moving. And other times she was so on top of it all that not a single thing would be out of place, and I’d almost be afraid to touch anything.’
‘You’re right, this isn’t what Mattie has ever known.’ Bridget shook her head gently.
‘Like I said, she was a baby. By the time she started to get to the point where maybe she might have started to remember, my father got a promotion, and a more permanent posting in HQ. He was home a lot more. As in, every night. Everything changed.’
‘She wasn’t raising a family alone.’
‘Right. She had support, and Mattie was older, so she actually went out and got herself her first job as a receptionist at a dental practice. It seemed to give her freedom and a new release. And that’s the family life that Mattie remembers.’
‘But it isn’t the one you remember most?’
‘No, it is.’ He shifted in position, looking for the right words. ‘I remember that, and I look back on it with affection. And although, looking back on it, Mum was clearly depressed, she kept herself together for the sake of Mattie and me. Home life was never miserable, and she was a good mum. A great mum.’
‘But...?’
‘But I remember how difficult it was for her because of my father’s army career, and I think that any woman who wanted to be with me would have to put up with the same kind of stuff. I’m a soldier, it’s who I am. I get moved around a lot, and I’m always away on exercises, or training, or operations. It’s a great life for a single person. But my personal opinion is that it isn’t conducive to good relationships. Or happy marriages.’
‘I don’t know,’ she said thoughtfully, after a moment. ‘I think it’s different, Hayd. Or it can be different. You don’t have a family, and not every woman is like your mum. What if you chose a woman who was also in the army, and career-minded like you?’
Or a medical charity worker, posted abroad for months.
The thought hung there in the air, and Hayden was sure Mattie could read it as well as he could. But he didn’t say it.
‘Then we’d never see each other.’
‘That isn’t true. And, even if it was, in time you would get promotions, and be offered more roles that gave you a more permanent situation, instead of postings here, there and everywhere.’
It was astounding how much he wanted that to be true. And how much he wanted it to be true with Bridget.
‘It isn’t just that, though,’ he made himself continue. ‘It’s also the nature of what I do. You see my unit building roads, drilling boreholes, digging drainage channels. But that isn’t all we do. We also deal with mine warfare, explosive demolitions, anything. How is it fair to settle with one person knowing that in the next operation you go on, you might n
ever make it back?’
‘It’s admirable that you consider others,’ she told him quietly, firmly. ‘But that’s not a choice you should be making on their behalf. That’s a choice each individual should be able to make for themselves.’
‘I disagree. There’s often a romantic notion attached to what we do, and that notion is often a far cry from the reality. I know the reality, I’ve lived it. I’ve stood next to a best friend one moment, only for them to step on a land mine and be gone—literally vaporised from existence—a second later as we turn away from each other.’
And if he’d expected his resolute, focussed Bridget to drop her eyes from his even as she dropped the topic, he should have known she was stronger than that.
‘Maybe you should try trusting people a little more,’ she told him evenly. ‘You might be surprised at what they’ve experienced themselves. And just how much they understand. Often more than you might think.’
How he stilled himself in that moment Hayden would never know. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire just keeping himself from crossing that invisible divide between them and hauling her to him.
He’d kept telling her there was a line between personal and professional, and that what had happened between them back in the UK could be kept separate from what happened between them out here.
But he suspected—more than suspected—that it was himself who he kept trying to remind. He was the one who, after years of being happily single and never wanting more, couldn’t keep his mind from wandering back into territory it shouldn’t be in.
Imagining Bridget. Like he had no control at all where she was concerned—she dominated his every waking moment. And, if he was honest, she haunted his sleep, too.
He told himself that it was just temptation. Purely a physical attraction. Undeniable chemistry. But whatever term he tried to use, the fact was that it was still here, hovering like a ghost in the periphery of his mind.
No matter where he was or what task he was on, a part of him was always aware of where she was and what she was doing. He could never shake this longing to go to her and talk to her. Touch her. Take her.