My Kind of Love (Finding Love 1)

Mom flinches, and I feel bad for the way I spoke to her, but I don’t have it in me to apologize. She’s right. I do need a break. I’m emotionally exhausted, and because I haven’t slept more than a couple hours over the last few days, I’m running on fumes.

“And you’re no good to him if you’re not taking care of yourself.” She wraps her arms around me and I inhale her soft-scented perfume, allowing myself a brief moment to escape. To pretend I’m fifteen again and my biggest problem is what to wear or who I should hang out with.

I’m so damn tired, but my mind is racing. It goes from believing Ryan is dead and trying to figure out where I go from here, to having hope he’s alive, which has me trying to search for anything online indicating as such. Unfortunately, while the government will spoon feed little bits of information as they see fit, they won’t give classified details until it’s all been investigated. The only reason Kayla found out what she did was because she’s close with Ryan’s ex, who is still friends with other military wives, one whose husband is at the compound Ryan was at, until he left to go to another one. They can’t give any details, so we don’t know if he’s at the one that was attacked, but the longer he goes without reaching out, the more likely he was.

“Micaela, you’re an amazing mother,” Mom murmurs into my hair. “But sometimes being a good mom means admitting you need a little help. And it’s okay to have help.” She backs up slightly, framing my face with her hands. “It doesn’t make you any less of a mom.” She kisses the tip of my nose. “There’s a reason for the saying: it takes a village. Your dad and me, your brother and sister, Ryan’s family…Even Lexi and Georgia…we’re your village. Let us help.”

I release a harsh breath, letting myself feel the weight of the situation. My head and heart hurt. My body is sore, and it’s hard to keep my eyes open. “Okay,” I choke out.

Mom smiles softly. “I’ll take RJ home with me. Take a bath and relax. Read a book, watch crappy TV. Take a nap. Go for a walk. I know it won’t be easy, but for a little while turn it off.”

“Okay,” I repeat.

“If you’re up for it, come over for dinner. If not, RJ can stay the night.” She picks RJ up, who immediately grins, excitedly cooing at his grandma.

“I love you, little guy,” I say, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Mom. Love you.”

“I love you, too.” She kisses my forehead one more time before she heads out the door with RJ.

Taking her advice, I run a hot bubble bath in the Jacuzzi tub. I spend the next hour shaving and relaxing. I use my iPad to read a couple chapters of the book I’m reading—although, I couldn’t tell you what’s actually happening. When the water turns cold, I jump in the shower and wash my hair, which hasn’t been washed in days.

When I get out, with a towel wrapped around me, I pad into the bedroom to get dressed. I’m about to grab my underwear and pajamas from my drawer, when I spot Ryan’s ARMY hoodie hanging in the closet. My stomach plummets, remembering all his stuff is in here. Because he’s supposed to be here…

I snatch it off the hanger and pull it over my head, the scent of Ryan immediately enveloping me. Instead of putting on my underwear, I put on a pair of his boxers, rolling them up twice so they don’t fall. Then, I climb into bed, knowing I probably won’t fall asleep, but also knowing I need to try. Like my mom said, I need to take care of myself so I can take care of RJ.

When my eyes won’t close, I grab my laptop from the nightstand and drag it over. My finger glides across the trackpad, waking it up, and Ryan’s face surfaces. The last thing I watched was his video to RJ. I click out of it, and his other video taunts me. It’s in the same file folder, named Don’t Watch. Ryan named it that to remind me that it should only be watched if something happens to him—if he doesn’t make it back.

My finger moves the cursor to the file, but I don’t yet click. If I open this, it’s like admitting he’s gone, and I’m not ready to admit that yet. No, I won’t open it until his body has been found, or at least until someone confirms his death.

I shut down the computer and snuggle into Ryan’s blankets. Since we’re using his bed, we’re also using his sheets. Kayla suggested I wash them, unsure when the last time he washed them was, but I was too afraid they would lose his scent. If he doesn’t come home, eventually his smell will disappear. Just like Ian’s did. And all that will be left are the memories.