“Or what I’ve done,” I added almost under my breath.
Hunter stared at me with a worried expression.
I stared at him for a few moments before I replied. “I’m fine, Hunter, but thanks for the offer, dude. It means a lot to me.”
He let a smile play across his face. “I’m a cop, not a shrink, but I’m still your best friend, even if you do have a brotherhood now. I’m only letting you know I’m here, that’s all I’m saying, bro.”
I reached over and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Hunter. I appreciate it, but I really am okay. It’ll just take some time to adjust, that’s all.”
If I had a dollar for every time I’d uttered those fucking words, I’d be a damn millionaire. The only time I was ever okay was when bullets were flying by me, strangely enough. Or when I was kicking down doors and rushing into rooms, my brothers right there with me. The only time I felt at ease was during the chaos, and when you try to explain that to a shrink, they think you’re insane.
The guys I served with felt the same way though. We were a brotherhood in the fact that we all needed that rush. The idea of going back to an empty place after an op made my skin crawl. It was one of the reasons we had spent so much time at the local bars near base. None of us ever seemed to want to go home, not even the guys who had wives to go home to.
Well, only a couple sought the refuge of their wives or girlfriends. It was hard when we couldn’t tell anyone a single thing about what we were doing or where we were going. The secrets often built walls that not even love could tear down.
Hunter cleared his throat. “I got a call from Willa’s friend, Brighton Rogers. She went to school with Willa and is some big fancy lawyer in Boston now. She was only too happy to be Willa’s divorce attorney.”
I only nodded. Just hearing Willa’s name made my heart beat a little faster.
“The last time I saw Brighton, I’m pretty sure her face was covered in acne and she had on clothes two times too big for her. She wore glasses, too, if I remember. Typical law school nerd. Anyway, she wants to take Willa out tonight to celebrate her divorce from that dickhead of a husband she found herself stuck with.”
I lifted a brow. “Stuck with?”
He nodded. “Yeah, the only reason she married him was because she got pregnant, and I’d bet my left nut he got her pregnant on purpose.”
My stomach dropped at the thought of Willa being pregnant with another man’s child. I hated the way I became so angry on New Year’s Eve when she’d told me in person she was getting married and was pregnant. I had almost begged her to go back to Virginia with me and let me marry her and raise her son, but that had been a fleeting wish, not reality. “Is her divorce officially final?” I asked, not wanting to get into the drama of why Willa and Brian had gotten married.
“Sure as shit is. And we’re taking her out to celebrate tonight.”
“We?” I asked, one brow raised.
“Hell yeah. Aiden, Willa is going to shit her pants when she sees you. It would mean a lot to me if you came tonight. I think it would do her good to see you. Not that I think she needs cheering up. Willa has even said it was a godsend she came back home early that weekend to find Brian in bed with Ellen. Truth be told, she was more upset about it being Ellen than anything else. But I do think Willa has some trust issues now.”
I stared at him, trying to read what he wasn’t saying. Then I shrugged, acting as if it didn’t matter one way or the other. “Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Great!” Hunter said. “I told Brighton to meet us at Brew’s Place around nine. I’ll pick you up at eight forty-five?”
I took another long pull from my beer. “Yep. I’ll be ready.”
Hunter stood, leaving his nearly full beer on the table after I told him I’d finish it. He gave me a quick slap on the back. “It’s damn good to finally have you home. I missed you, brother.”
I was hit hard by an instant memory of being surrounded by my team. Eight of us, arms lifted, beers held high in celebration of a successful op. The clanking of bottles echoed before we all chanted, “Brothers forever.”
I swallowed hard and forced myself to stand and walk Hunter out to his truck. The small ache in my knee made me falter for one quick moment before I got control of it. I knew I had made the right decision leaving the team. There was no way I would put them in danger and go back with a fucked-up knee. I could have lied, said it felt good as new. But I’d seen too many other SEALs do it, and the cost of something going wrong, someone dying, wasn’t worth it. Of course, the doctors wouldn’t have let me anyway, not with how torn up my knee was.