The Problem with Peace (Greenstone Security 3)

But this wasn’t that kind of story.

“You’re back,” I said when the silence had lasted for too long. Long enough for me to try and yank up a fantasy that toyed with my tortured soul.

His nod served as his response.

I itched to escape his empty stare. His cold presence. It was tearing at my skin.

But I also wanted to sink into that pain. Live in it.

I sucked in a breath. “Did you…”

“Hear that your marriage broke up after two months?” he asked, voice cruel. “Yeah, I heard.”

I steeled against the pain.

“Not here to be the second choice,” he continued. “Here because I was with Luke when he got the call. Needed to make sure you hadn’t gotten yourself shot.”

I was winded from the force of his successive blows. “Gotten myself shot?” I repeated on a whisper.

He nodded once. “Let’s be real, Polly. Not like you haven’t been playing Russian Roulette with your life thus far.”

“And you know me well enough to hurl this at me?” I asked, my voice still a whisper.

His eyes stayed hard. “Oh, I know you, wish I didn’t. But I do. You fucking know that. I’ve known you since that night four years ago.”

“That night four years ago,” I repeated, tasting the sweetness of the past on my tongue, then it turned rancid with Heath’s stare.

I was done.

I had almost been shot today.

After hiding out for two weeks waiting for my bruises to heal. Bruises made by my husband. The man I loved.

Somehow still loved.

And now I was standing in front of another man. Who made what Craig and I had turn flat. Two dimensional.

But I was done with his accusations.

“That morning, when I woke up alone but for a slight stain serving as ugly evidence of something I’d thought was beautiful, I had two options. Only two.” I made myself keep eye contact with Heath, struggled to keep my voice even, but I managed it.

I sucked in a breath and continued.

“Everyone only has two options in these kinds of situations. But because we’re all different, there are a million different ways that these two options ultimately manifest. You make the decision from one of two organs. The brain or their heart.”

I smiled, and I imagined it was full of melancholy.

“I used to think that was such a cliché, which is funny since I was the cliché. The idiot girl believing the man she was giving her virginity to thought it was special. And then he left, and I realized he wasn’t of the same opinion.”

I laughed, and I hated the bitterness to it. “But I realized I had two options, and whichever one I chose would serve as the roadmap for all future matters of love. Because it was pivotal, that moment. How I reacted would be how my thoughts about love and sex would be structured. My brain urged me to cry. Scream. Call my sister and get her and Rosie to track you down and get you locked up in a POW camp or something.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “The need for that was so strong, so hot, it was acid in my veins. And I almost did it. I was closer than I’d like to admit. But I remembered who I was. Listened for the whisper from my heart, separated it from the screams of my brain. So I didn’t call my sister. I cried. But only to purge. Only to get rid of all that bitterness. And then I closed my eyes, wished you the best and believed that karma would teach you the lesson I wanted Rosie and Lucy to teach you. My lesson had already been taught. So I followed my heart. Let it lead me everywhere away from that ugly morning. And it led me to Craig. To something easy. Beautiful. Or so I thought, of course. I could lie and say that seeing you didn’t urge me to throw myself into it that much more. But I won’t. It’s not my style. I followed my heart and it led me astray, but I won’t regret it.”

“That’s a fuckin’ lie,” he hissed. “If you followed your heart, there’s no way you would’ve walked down that fuckin’ aisle. Said those vows. You did that because you were a coward.”

I stayed silent.

I let him hurl those words at me. Let them spear into the places already radiating with pain. Let him create new ones.

Because in a way, I deserved it.

The pain.

The judgment.

He stepped back.

“You weren’t brave enough to try something that didn’t fit into your fucking fantasy. And now you’ve got your reality.”

And then he walked away.

I sank down on the floor of the hospital.

I got back up eventually.

* * *

Two Years Later

The door closed with a resounding bang which beckoned silence.

Absolute roaring silence.

I paused, taking in the living room.