Chapter 23
I don't sleep much that night.
Not because anything's wrong.
Because now I know.
Not details.
Not the full story.
But enough.
Enough to understand why Chloe startles at sudden noise.
Why she apologises for things that don't need apologising for.
Why she looks relieved every time I come back like part of her still expects people not to.
And enough to know I was right.
The thought sits heavily in my chest as I lie awake on my couch staring at the ceiling.
Someone hurt her.
Not theoretically. Not emotionally vague. Not "bad relationship" hurt.
Real hurt.
The kind that teaches people to stay small.
My jaw tightens automatically.
I force it to relax.
Getting angry at the ceiling at two in the morning isn't useful.
But my brain keeps replaying moments differently now.
The way she froze at knocks on the door that first night.
The way she looked almost guilty for needing help.
The panic in her eyes every time Ava cried too long, like she expected something bad to follow loud noise.
Jesus.
I scrub a hand over my face.
The worst part is that she still talks about herself like she's the inconvenience in the story.
Like surviving it is somehow embarrassing.
I turn onto my side and glance at the clock.
04:17.
Might as well be awake.
By the time I get to base, I've had too much coffee and not enough sleep.
Callahan notices immediately.
"You look homicidal," he says as I walk into the office.
"I'm tired."
"That's your murder voice."
I ignore him and drop into my chair.
Usually, he'd keep pushing.
Today he studies me for a second first.
Then his expression shifts slightly.
Less joking.
"She told you something," he says.
Not a question.
I lean back slowly.
"Yeah."
Callahan's face loses the last of the amusement.
"How bad?"
I hesitate.
Because it doesn't feel like my story to hand around.
But Callahan knows me well enough to read the answer anyway.
His jaw tightens slightly.
"Oh," he says quietly.
"Yeah."
Silence stretches between us.
Then he sits down across from me.
"You alright?" he asks.
The question almost catches me off guard.
I think about it for a second.
"No," I say honestly.
Not because I'm falling apart.
Because I can't stop imagining Chloe dealing with all of that alone while trying to keep a baby safe at the same time.
And because every protective instinct I have is now fully awake and deeply unhappy.
Callahan watches me carefully.
"You gonna scare her if you go full soldier mode?" he asks.
Probably.
The annoying thing is he's right.
I exhale slowly.
"She already notices everything," I mutter.
"She notices you," he corrects.
That lands differently than I expect.
Because she does.
I think about the conversation again.
The way her voice shook when she admitted it out loud.
The way she looked like she expected me to see her differently afterward.
Like she was braced for disappointment.
Instead, all I could think was:
Of course she's tired.
Of course she's anxious.
Of course she struggles to sleep.
None of it makes me think less of her.
If anything—
No.
I stop that thought before it goes further.
Because I'm already too deep in this.
Too attached.
To both of them.
Ava gripping my dog tags with sleepy little hands.
Chloe looking at me like she wants to trust me fully but still doesn't quite know how.
I'm in trouble.
Callahan leans back in his chair.
"So what now?" he asks.
I stare out across the training yard through the office window.
Soldiers moving through drills. Structure. Routine. Predictability.
Usually, it clears my head.
Not today.
"Nothing changes," I say eventually.
Callahan raises an eyebrow.
"Bullshit."
I glance at him.
He shrugs.
"You've already basically moved in emotionally."
"I have not."
"You know where her spare baby wipes are."
I don't answer.
Because, unfortunately, that's true.
Callahan points at me immediately.
"See? Exactly."
I rub a hand down my face again.
"She told me because she trusts me," I say quietly.
That matters more than I can explain.
Callahan nods once, expression more serious now.
"Then don't make her regret it."
The words land hard.
Because that's the thing.
This isn't casual for Chloe.
Trust isn't casual for someone who had it broken properly.
I already know that.
And somewhere between late-night pacing with Ava and making Chloe eat actual meals, I stopped thinking about whether I wanted this.
Now I'm thinking about whether I can do it right.
My phone buzzes against the desk.
I glance down automatically.
A message from Chloe.
Ava just sneezed three times in a row and looked personally offended about it. Thought you should know.
I stare at the screen for a second before I laugh quietly under my breath.
Callahan looks deeply offended.
"Oh, you're smiling now? Unbelievable."
I ignore him and type back.
Traumatic experience. She'll recover eventually.
Three dots appear almost immediately.
And just like that, the tightness in my chest eases slightly.
Not gone.
But manageable.
Because she texted me.
Because she wanted to.
Because for the first time in a long time, Chloe isn't carrying everything alone anymore.