Chapter 30
THIRTY
“I
t’s not that,” he said instead.
He had to tell her. He would tell her. Just not here and now.
Concern shadowed her pretty brown eyes. “Is it because of your...recovery program? You have to wait a certain amount of time before getting involved with someone? You don’t have to tell me the details, I just—”
“Technically, I’ll always be in recovery.” Mentally. “But it’s not what you’re probably imagining. Did Mae tell you I went to treatment?”
“Rafe, actually. No details, though.”
He wasn’t mad about it. He wasn’t ashamed of that part of the story. And he owed her at least this much.
“I was in a dark place when I finally got discharged from the medical center in DC. For a long time, and I wasn’t getting any better.
They had me on prescription meds, and I started drinking when I got here.
But my dad saw the warning signs and intervened early on to stop things from going totally off the rails.
He knows the guy who runs the recovery center here and called in a big favor to get me a place there right away. "
Willow nodded, watching him silently.
He rubbed his hands over the thighs of his shorts, feeling raw and exposed baring himself like this. "I wasn’t admitted for detox, exactly. My dad fought to get me in there to stop me from...”
“Ending it all?” she said softly.
He nodded. Swallowed, aware of just how dark and solitary a place he’d been lost in.
“So I wasn’t your usual addict or alcoholic.
I was in there for severe depression and CPTSD while I was weaned off my meds, in a place where I got medical, nutritional, and mental health treatment all at the same time. ”
“I’m really glad your dad did that, though it doesn’t surprise me one bit. And I’m grateful that you agreed to go.”
“Oh, trust me, I didn’t want to at first. For those first few weeks, I didn’t want to be there.
But I stayed because I knew going down my current path would devastate my dad.
Some days were really rough, but others were better.
Eventually, I started having as many good days as bad.
And then one day, I even saw a tiny ray of light at the end of the dark tunnel I was in. ”
“What changed?”
“A lot of things.”
“And what about physically?”
“They patched me up in Syria, then did what they could to minimize the damage when I got back stateside. Pretty good job, all things considered, but I lost some peripheral vision in my right eye.”
She nodded. “What kind of treatment helped the most?”
“Honestly? Psychedelics. They’re being used more and more to treat CPTSD and brain trauma.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that. They made the biggest difference for you?”
“That, and I started talking about it. Processing it instead of burying it or numbing it with meds. I hated it when I started, but it eventually got easier, and it really helped. Realizing I owed it to the guy who didn’t make it back from that mission.” He stopped, unable to continue.
Tell her. Just fucking tell her right now.
Willow reached for his hand, curled her slender fingers around it. Her skin was soft and smooth. “I’m really glad you’re still here, Tripp. No matter what happens with us. I’ll always be your friend, no matter what.”
Fuck. He looked away, out toward the water, throat tight and the backs of his eyes starting to sting. Thankfully, his shades hid them.
But he couldn’t stand this a second longer. The guilt. The fear. If he wanted something real with her, then he had to man up, tell her the truth, and then face whatever consequences came as a result. Anything less than that was wrong.
“Will. I need to—”
“Well, look who it is,” a familiar male voice said from Tripp’s left.
They both looked over as Blaine sauntered over with his own iced coffee and a doughnut, wearing business clothes, his dark blond hair styled to perfection as usual.
“Hey, man.” Tripp let go of Willow’s hand and stood to shake with him. They hadn’t seen each other in person in a few months, and Blaine had only recently returned to the island. “Good to see you. This is Willow. Willow, Blaine. He’s the one who’s going to help me with your alarm system.”
“Oh, nice to meet you. Thanks so much, by the way.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Blaine shook Willow’s hand, gave her that trademark charming smile that had left a trail of broken hearts in his wake ever since Tripp had known him. “How are you holding up today? Not exactly the warmest welcome to Skelly life for you.”
“I’m all right. Tripp’s taken me under his wing.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything else.”
Willow swiveled toward them more on the bench, shading her eyes with one hand. “Did you two meet here?”
“No, overseas,” Blaine said.
“Were you a contractor too?”
He nodded. “Intelligence. You moved in next to Mae, huh?”
“I did. Hasn’t been a dull moment since.”
“And there probably won’t be one ever again,” Blaine said with a chuckle.
It was seriously messed up that Tripp felt a stab of annoyance at his friend. But Blaine was a good-looking guy. Unlike Tripp, he wasn’t covered in scars, and his charm was legendary.
“True,” Willow agreed, grinning at him.
Surrendering to the primal need to claim her, Tripp set a hand on her shoulder, feeling ridiculously gratified as Blaine’s gaze tracked the movement, taking in the nonverbal message.
Yeah, that’s right. She’s mine.
For now, at least.
Willow glanced up at him for a second in surprise then cleared her throat. “Well, I should get going.” She grabbed the empty pastry box, her half-finished drink, and stood.
“Where you off to?” Blaine asked.
“I volunteer at the library. Tripp, I’ll text you as soon as I’m done. Nice to meet you, Blaine.”
“Very nice to meet you, Willow.”
They both watched her walk away. Tripp shot Blaine a glare.
“So that’s Peyton’s sister,” Blaine said, still staring after her.
“Yeah.” It almost came out like a growl.
“How long’ve you two been together?”
“Not long.” And not officially, but he didn’t need to know that. Handsome bastard.
Blaine was still watching her walk up the sidewalk. “Does she know about...”
A rock settled in the pit of his stomach. “No. But I’m gonna tell her.”
Blaine looked at him sharply, his gaze censuring. “Yeah,” he said after a long, loaded moment. “No way around that one.”
No. Unfortunately not. Time to change the subject. “You got time now to go over the alarm system design? Or should I come check the mantel installation first?”
“Why not both? I’ve got everything we need at my place. I’ll show you what I’ve got, give you my recommendation, and then we can install what you pick out later today after I finish up my meetings.”
“Sounds good. I’ll head straight over.”
“See you there.”
“Not if I see you first.”
Blaine shot him a cocky grin over his shoulder. “Never gonna happen.”
Tripp headed in the opposite direction for his truck, regretting that Blaine had interrupted them before he’d been able to tell Willow about Syria, but acutely aware that his reprieve with her was running out fast.
The interruption had merely bought him a little more time. His day of reckoning was imminent.
All that remained was to wait and see how bad the damage would be when he told Willow the truth about that final, disastrous mission in Syria.