“Yup. Go take care of Aarabelle. I’ve got the other shit.” Liam kisses my cheek and then the top of Aara’s head and leaves.
I stand here knowing I’m not going to get rid of him. He’s noble, honest, and when Liam made a vow to Aaron, he meant it. He will be here for me in whatever way I need.
Liam Dempsey is going to be my demise.
“Hello?” I hear my best friend, Reanell, call out from the kitchen.
“In here, Rea.”
“There you are. I brought over a few meals the wives made this week. I put them in the freezer.” Her generous heart causes a warm glow to flow through me. She’s been my rock these last few months. Stopping over, bringing food, watching Aarabelle so I can nap.
“Thanks, but I’m doing good. I promise.”
This used to be me. I was the one who headed the relief groups. Made sure that the wives of fallen SEALs had food, help, and friends. Funny how life works—now I’m the wife I used to pity.
“Never said you weren’t. Now gimme that baby,” she says with her hands extended as she takes Aara from me. “Hello, princess,” Reanell coos and snuggles Aarabelle. She’s impossible not to love. “So?” she questions me.
“So?”
“Who was the guy outside messing with Aaron’s car?”
My eyes widen and I rush over to the window. “What?” I ask, pulling back the blinds. “Who the hell would be messing with the car? There’s no one there. Why didn’t you call the cops?” I look down the driveway, but I don’t see anyone.
“He smiled and waved at me, so I didn’t think much of it. Plus, he had the telltale signs, so I assumed maybe you were finally accepting some help,” she remarks.
“What signs?”
She sighs and lifts Aara up and down, “G-shock watch, tribal tats, and the whole I’m-so-amazing-just-ask-me vibe. Typical SEAL.”
“I’m going to check it out. Can you watch her?”
“Stupid question.”
I open the door and stop short.
“Hey,” Liam is standing there covered in grease.
“Hey, yourself.” I clutch my chest and try to slow my racing heart.
He wipes his hand on the rag he’s holding. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I knocked earlier but you didn’t answer.”
“I must’ve been with Aara. What are you doing?” I question.
Looking down at his clothes then back up, he raises his brow. “I’ve got his car running again.”
“I see that. I mean, why are you working on his car?”
“I’m helping.”
Letting out a deep breath, I count backwards from ten. I can do this. I need to sell his things and start putting my life in order. “Okay, I thought maybe I’d have a few days, but . . .”
“My leave is up in four weeks, I figured I’d get started right away.”
Makes sense, but there’s no part of me that’s ready for this. In my head I know this is the right thing to do, get it over with. Start to move on, but it makes my new reality so final. But death is final, so why am I trying to fight it all?
“You’re right. It’s fine.”
Liam takes a step closer and the look in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine. “One day that word is going to leave your vocabulary and you’re going to realize lying to me is pointless.”
Now I know why he’s so damn good at his job.
“Yeah, okay.” Trying to brush him off, I smile and tuck my hair behind my ear. He turns without another word and heads back to the driveway.
“Well, that was intense.” I jump at the sound of Reanell behind me. I forgot she was here and always lurking.
I turn and see her with Aarabelle asleep in her arms. “He was Aaron’s friend. He’s stationed with SEAL Team Four and is helping around the house—apparently.”
“He can help me when he’s done here,” she says as she looks out the window.
“I doubt your husband would approve,” I chide and flop on the couch.
She laughs and sits in the rocking chair. “Mason isn’t the jealous type,” she jokes. Her husband is the commander of Team Four. Reanell might joke, but she would never do anything. However, she loves to irritate him and rile him up. “What team did you say he was with?”
I pull my legs up and giggle, “Four.”
“Fuck.”
“Dumbass,” I reply laughing. Huh. I laughed again.
“Well, well. It seems someone is helping in more ways than one,” Reanell marvels and then looks away.
“Why?”
“Because you’re laughing.”
“I laughed before,” I retort.
“No, you fake laughed. This is the first laugh that didn’t look like it physically hurt you. Sure, you’ve put on a great show. But I think this Liam guy is a miracle worker,” she murmurs and walks out the room.
Maybe he is. Or maybe he’s the first person to not put up with my shit.
“Do you have any questions, Mrs. Gilcher?” Mr. Popa asks. He’s the liaison sent by our insurance company who plans to guide me through the paperwork.
“I’m not sure,” I mumble. In all honesty, I haven’t heard a word that he’s said.