Chapter 2
Kincaid
I’d made a mistake. Another damn misstep that would haunt me.
I glanced at the woman with the dark hair, bright blue eyes, and a pouting mouth that made my throat go dry, and yet, right at that moment, I only had eyes for the man standing behind her.
Ronin.
He was here, so close to me, and yet so far away. My fault. Always my fault. But he was so close.
Memories of years gone by flooded me, and all I wanted to do was reach for him, hold him close, and forget everything that had happened in the past. But that wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t.
Because as I looked at Ronin, I knew there would never be forgiveness in that gaze.
But that wasn’t the only thing. No. I finally glanced at the woman in front of me again, noticed the ring on her finger, saw the matching one on Ronin’s, and knew I was too late. Years too late.
I had spent too long trying to dig myself out of the darkness, attempting to claw my way out of horror, and I had missed my chance at something more. My fault, I repeated to myself—all my fault.
“Kincaid?” the woman in front of me asked, her voice soft. “It’s good to finally meet you,” she said, although her voice was devoid of emotion. I didn’t know if she was lying or not.
I rolled my shoulders back. “I’m sorry for disturbing you so late.
I just got into town. I’ll let you be. Sorry about this.
” I turned to walk away, to let the pain ease ever so slightly even though I knew it never would, but a small hand grabbed my arm—the strength of the grip surprising me.
I looked down at that diamond ring that had been put on her finger by the man I once loved. The man I still loved? I wasn’t sure.
“Come inside. Please.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I said.
Ronin didn’t say anything. And, somehow, that hurt worse than him yelling at me and throwing me out. But I would deserve it if he did. I deserved all of it.
“I’m Julia. Please, come inside. It’s late and getting a bit chilly. You don’t even have a coat on.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Please. You don’t want me to get mean.” Her eyes twinkled as I peered at her face.
This was the woman Ronin had married, and I liked her. She was firm, smiled, and looked like she would take no shit—the perfect partner for Ronin. She was so different from Alexis. I could already tell that, and maybe that was a good thing. She likely wouldn’t run away when things got tough.
Though I had no idea how I could tell that from a single touch, a momentary glance.
“Come on. Ronin and I were just cleaning up after dinner.”
That’s when I finally noticed the swollen lips—the tousled hair.
Oh, they had definitely been doing something after dinner, but it wasn’t cleaning up.
Jealousy slashed at me, but I pushed it away.
I deserved this, and so much more.
Finally, I looked at Ronin again, saw the longing mixed with anger in his gaze, and knew I couldn’t just leave. I would after, but I couldn’t hurt this woman, not when I knew if I walked away, I would only leave ashes in my wake for her to deal with. And neither of them deserved that.
“Okay, just for a moment.”
Relief and fear slid through Julia’s gaze, but she blinked it away quickly. She seemed so strong. I couldn’t help but like her immediately.
I followed her inside the modest home that these two had made together. It was all white lines with dark furniture and trees and art on the wall. I liked it. I could see some influences of Ronin, the man I had known before. As well as some more feminine tastes that had to have come from Julia.
They had somehow melded and created a life together.
And I wasn’t part of it. Maybe if I hadn’t run away—but no, there was no taking that back.
And I hadn’t been the man who was in love with Ronin for a long time.
It wouldn’t have mattered if I had come back any sooner.
I hadn’t been ready—as selfish as that was.
“Can I get you something to drink? We still have an open bottle of wine. Our friends were over for dinner, and it’s been a nice evening.”
I knew Julia was rambling, and yet Ronin wasn’t saying a damn word.
“I’m okay. Thank you. I need to drive.”
“Oh, okay. Any water?”
“I’m fine. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”
Her eyes warmed, but then she stood at Ronin’s side, her hand sliding into his.
Her loyalties were with her husband, as they should be.
And Ronin was hurting. That much was clear.
If the other man didn’t say something soon, I wouldn’t just be walking out of here, Julia would be pushing me out. That much I knew.
I cleared my throat. “I just got back into town, and this was the last address I had of yours,” I whispered.
“I sent you a letter when I moved in,” Ronin said, his voice wooden. “Before Julia and I even got married. I didn’t know you got the letter. But, apparently, you did since you had the address.”
“I read your letter. Letters,” I corrected, my voice hollow.
Julia looked between us, tension clearly riding her. But hell, it was riding all of us.
The man I had once loved narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t want to write back?”
“I couldn’t, Ronin.” And that was the truth, but not all of it.
“Sure. I can see that. I’m here. Same place I’ve been for a long damn while. What? Ten years now? And where have you been? Trotting the globe?”
“There were things I needed to do, Ronin.”
“Good to know. Did you get them done? Or maybe you don’t need to tell me. You didn’t tell me much even then.”
“I can see this was a mistake,” I said quickly.
“You’re pretty good at making those, aren’t you?” Ronin bit out.
“I think I’m the one who made a mistake by allowing him in.” Julia moved forward.
Ronin shook his head, and I swallowed hard.
The other man looked over at his wife, cupped her cheek, and lowered his forehead to hers.
That pang of jealousy hit hard again, and I swallowed back any emotions that might drown me.
The love between them was palpable. I almost felt like I could reach out and touch it.
There was so much trust and understanding in that bond. It was something I had thought I had with him until I had to go away. I hadn’t been able to understand it at the time, had been too scared of so many things, and Ronin had gotten hurt because of it.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for making you feel that way,” Ronin whispered.
I felt like I was intruding, even if this was about me. And yet, was it? No, it had to be about Ronin. That was the thing. It needed to be about him after so many years of hiding from it.
I cleared my throat. “I didn’t know you were married,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have come. If I had known, I wouldn’t be here.”
Ronin turned to me, his eyes dark. “And then I still wouldn’t know if you were alive or dead.”
He had no idea how close to the mark his words were, and yet I couldn’t open my mouth and tell him. Not now. I needed to. I knew that. That was the whole point of me being here. Still, I couldn’t. Not yet.
“Should I let you two be?” Julia asked, looking between us.
What kind of woman was this that she had the strength and capacity to leave her husband alone with his former lover? I didn’t know this Julia, but I wanted to. And maybe that should scare me, but it didn’t.
I liked her, even if I was jealous of her. But that was my problem, not hers.
“I came here to talk to you, Ronin. To apologize. To tell you everything. But maybe I should just go. It’s only going to hurt everything.”
Ronin ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face.
It was longer than it had been when we were together, and I liked it.
He had ink on his body, and I could tell from the way he stood that his leg hurt him.
We’d gotten together soon after the IED blast had taken off his leg in Afghanistan.
I had been with him when he was first learning to be himself again, and I could still read his face and know when he was in pain.
He had grown into an even more beautiful man—and I had missed him.
I hated that I’d hurt him.
“Why did you go?” Ronin asked. “Why did you leave without a word, other than saying it was over and leaving a note? Just tell me that, and then you can go. I hate unknowns.”
“You’re a librarian, you always did love research and discovering answers.”
Ronin snorted. “That’s not the same. I couldn’t look up anything to find out what the fuck happened to you.”
“Let’s sit down,” Julia said. “I was going to leave to give you two some space, but I don’t think I can do that. Is it okay if I’m here when you say your piece?” Julia asked, looking directly into my face.
I liked this woman. “Of course. You two seem perfect for each other.”
“We are,” Ronin ground out.
I ignored the barb, even though I knew I’d earned it. “I’ll take that seat,” I said then let out a breath. “Plus, I guess you shouldn’t be on your feet after, what? PT today?”
Ronin narrowed his eyes. “Stop acting as if you know me. It’s been far too long for that.”
Ronin turned on his heel and made his way to the couch. He sat down as if he had no pain, and then leaned forward, putting his forearms on his thighs. “Talk.”
Julia sat next to him, rubbing his back, even as she looked at me. I swallowed hard and took the chair across the coffee table from them and let out a breath.
“After Alexis left us, both of us were broken. We weren’t talking like we used to.”
“Yes, but I figured we’d talk it out eventually,” Roman bit out.
“Ronin, let him speak.”
He glared at Julia before softening his expression and nodding.
“You’re right. The more I interrupt, the longer he’s going to be here.”
Julia rolled her eyes and gave me a look. We shared something in that moment, though I couldn’t quite name it. And I didn’t know how I felt about it. Given the way she shook her head and pulled away slightly, I had a feeling she was on the same page as I was.
Odd.
“I took that job, the one where it should have been safe.”
“Ronin said you were a photojournalist?” Julia asked, her voice soft again.
“I used to be. Now, I do photography for myself and my business. I don’t go to war-torn countries anymore. I don’t put myself in the heat of battle. Not after the accident.”
Ronin’s gaze shot up.
“What accident?”
“Pretty similar to yours. We rolled over an IED, blew our Jeep to hell and back.”
Ronin’s face blanched. “Ours?”
I nodded tightly, my gut roiling, bile filling my throat.
“Sophia and I took the job together. Mom and Dad weren’t happy because they didn’t want their kids in high-risk situations.
They wanted her to be a reporter for a local newspaper and talk about the largest pumpkin or whatever was going on with Main Street.
Instead, she took a job with The Chronicle and was doing an AP report for the area. We were a team and worked together.”
“Oh, Kincaid,” Julia whispered, and I had a feeling she knew where I was going with this.
“I was out of it for nearly two weeks by the time I woke up and heard that she didn’t make it.
Sophia died on impact. Didn’t even make it out of the fucking Jeep.
I broke my leg, my arm, had a skull fracture, second and third-degree burns down my back.
But I survived. Sophia didn’t. Took me a long time to get home, and it took me a hell of a long time to pull myself out of the bottle. ”
Ronin’s eyes widened, and I nodded tightly.
“I’m an alcoholic. I’ve been sober for three years, two months, and six days.
I didn’t contact you or write back or do anything because I blamed myself.
I’m figuring out who I am again, but I came here to apologize and to tell you.
I don’t plan on drinking today or tomorrow.
Only I’m not the same person I was. I lost Sophia, on a job that I was asked to do, something I got my sister into.
No matter how many steps I take to get out of the bottle, I’m still going to hate the way I treated you and what happened to Sophia.
I don’t fully know why I’m here. I just figured you ought to know. ”
I stood up then, ready to leave, but then Ronin did the same, Julia right beside him.
“Jesus Christ, Kincaid,” Ronin bit out. And then he was at my side, tugging me close.
I slammed into his chest and froze for a moment before I wrapped my arms around him and lowered my head to his shoulder.
The tears came, and a jagged sob ripped through me.
My shirt was wet, and I knew Ronin was crying right along with me.
Then there was a small hand on my back, rubbing my shirt, and I knew the other was doing the same to Ronin’s.
Julia stood between us, and I held her close, too, needing the comfort of this stranger, something I hadn’t even known I needed.
And then Ronin wrapped his arms around his wife, rested his head against hers, and looked up at me.
“You’re home,” Ronin said.
I swallowed hard. “Doesn’t feel like it yet. But I’m working on it.”
The two of them held each other close, and I took a step back, one I hoped they didn’t notice.
Because while there might be forgiveness in Ronin’s eyes—even though I didn’t think he’d ever truly get there—I knew I had come here for more than just that reason.
And I would never get what I wanted.
The man that I loved more than anything held his wife close, and I realized there was no way I would step between that. There was no way I would break that bond and connection.
I had lost everything once before.
And now, I was looking at what I could have had if I hadn’t broken.
Once again, I had failed.
Once again, I was the mistake.
And I could only blame myself for it.