Back in the Soldier's Bed

“I’m instructing sniping and small arms.”

Her eyebrows lifted. Now he was in charge of training the next generation of sharp shooters? No more active duty? Had his injury caused that? How had it happened? She had so many questions and no right to ask. No right to pry. They were exes only, as far as he was concerned.

And truth be told, curious as she was, even though she still felt that pull to him, she knew it would be better for everyone if they kept things very impersonal. Getting involved in his life meant he’d get involved in hers, and she couldn’t let that happen. For all she knew instructing was a temporary position until he could return to active duty. The last thing she needed was Jonas temporarily involved in anything, and then leaving. She’d been through that enough in her lifetime.

“Do you like the new job?” She asked the question to fill up the awkward silence that had fallen.

His eyes didn’t warm, just seemed to assess her distantly.

When they’d met six years ago, he’d been outgoing, fun, ebullient and full of life. It was hard to reconcile that energetic youth to the hardened man before her. The gulf between them now was wider than it had ever been.

“It has its good points.”

Despite his earlier attempt at lightening the atmosphere, it was clear Jonas wasn’t in a social chit-chat sort of mood anymore, and it was just as well.

“Then I’m glad. I should get home.”

“See you around.”

She gripped the pizza box with one hand and looped her key ring around the index finger of her other. “Goodbye,” she replied, surprised to feel her throat tighten.

It would have been easier if he’d just stayed away. She could have kept her memories of their idyllic months together untarnished. Now they were book-ended with an image of a colder, harder man who seemed familiar, yet a stranger.

She didn’t need a man. She’d proven that. But if she were to choose one, it would be someone devoted, dedicated, and above all, present. Committed.

She couldn’t imagine Jonas any of those things.

The leg press moved smoothly, up, down, up, down. Jonas grimaced at the weight on the bar. Ridiculous. It was half of what he’d been able to press only a year ago. He had enough reminders of what had happened to him without dealing with his body giving out.

He set his teeth and stubbornly added five more reps to his set, until the muscles quivered all the way up to his hip.

Tomorrow was his next physio appointment, and he was determined to have made progress. Everyone said his expertise and experience were beneficial to the training program here. But he knew the real reason he was back. He could no longer work out in the field. People called him a hero. He knew better.

He knew it was his fault.

Jonas slid off the black vinyl seat and sat on the mat, his legs spread out in a V. Slowly he leaned forward, stretching out the muscles he’d just worked, gritting his teeth against the pain.

He hadn’t expected to see Shannyn, that was for sure. Even though he’d done nothing but think of her as the transport came in on final approach. He’d only been in the Fredericton area for basic, then sniper school. A small wedge of his life so far. But during that time…Shannyn had been a big part of that, and he wasn’t immune to remembering happier days. She’d never been far from his mind.

But that was before. Before war, before deployment, before everything. Before the pervading taste of dust and blood. He could offer her nothing now, and he didn’t want to. That part of his life was over, and he was moving on in the only direction he knew how. Within the army. His home.

He lay down on his back, crossed one ankle over his knee, and drew the knee in, stretching out his hip. They’d run into each other twice already, and he’d been back less than two weeks. A clean break was better, like they’d had the first time.

Switching legs, he sighed. Tomorrow he’d go to his appointment, and then he’d see about switching therapists, go to another office. The less they saw of each other the better. For both of them.

Chapter 2

Jonas arrived for his appointment a few minutes early, providing the receptionist with a letter before seating himself in the waiting room.

“Shannyn?”

Shannyn shook her head, diverting her gaze from the back of Jonas’s head to the cheerful face of their receptionist, Melanie. “What is it?”

“It’s Sergeant Kirkpatrick’s letter. He wants his file sent to another clinic. He wants to switch therapists.”

Shannyn took the file. “Thank you, Melanie. I’ll take care of it.”

Her even tone betrayed nothing of what she felt. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure of it herself. Part of her was disappointed he wanted to go somewhere else, but mostly she felt relief that she wouldn’t have to see him on a regular basis. The more she saw him, the more apt she was to see reminders of how she’d cared about him. Cutting down the risk could only be a good thing, right?