27. Strike
Strike
He watched her go, her shoulders shaking. She tried to hide her sorrow, but she couldn’t, not from him.
Slowly, he dried his body, giving her time, before throwing on a jumper and joggers.
Her words about something being wrong with her pulled at his heart.
If she wanted to know the rest, he’d tell her, but no matter what happened once he’d told her, they couldn’t have a future.
She deserved someone who could give her everything she needed. He’d never be that person.
As he stood outside the tent, he pressed his palm to his cheek, wishing he was cupping her face again, clawing at the last remnants of her touch.
“Come and get warm, Strike. You can’t catch a cold. I still need your protection,” Millie said from inside the tent.
She’d hunkered so far down in her sleeping bag that her face was hidden.
He slid into his sleeping bag, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.
“Will you tell me what happened that day you left?” she asked, her voice quivering.
“Okay. That Sunday night”—he hesitated, dragging the words from when he’d buried them—“that Sunday, while both our parents were away and your brother was still… away, I realised I’d get to spend the whole night with you. I never intended for us to have our first times that night.”
“Me neither,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. “I thought we’d kiss, cuddle, and fool around.”
“Same. But that night, the best night of my life, sealed that, for me, it would only be you. When I went to university, I’d know my girl waited for me back home, and when you went to study medicine, I’d worry, but I’d never walk away.
My future would be you. When I woke you, because you needed to get to college, I was going to tell you all of that. ”
He fiddled with the edge of his sleeping bag, hoping she’d turn around so he could decipher her reactions.
“And I announced I was following you to university as soon as my year was done, and it didn’t matter that yours didn’t offer medicine, because I’d give it up so we could be together.”
“Yes,” he agreed.
“And I said we didn’t need to be apart for longer than a year.”
His stomach turned at how certain he’d been about their future. How foolish they’d been.
“You said your parents would be angry you wanted to give up your dreams, but I was worth it, and you’d give up all your dreams to be with me because I was the one that mattered.”
She gasped, “That was it, wasn’t it? You couldn’t let me give up my dreams for you.”
“I didn’t want you to give up medicine to be with me. I’d wait for you. I tried to tell you, but—”
“But like a madly in love eighteen-year-old, excited by ideas of what could be, I didn’t listen. But you didn’t have to leave,” she said. Her breath was a little cloud of moisture
“Things escalated while you were in college. I’d planned to chat about the future when you returned and find a solution.”
“When I wasn’t basking in the afterglow.”
“Your afterglow was beautiful.”
She turned in her sleeping bag. Even in the moonlight, he could see her tear-stained cheeks. He reached out, wiping away the remnants of her grief.
“After you went to college, I bumped into your mum. Your parents had returned from their long weekend.”
She sighed, closing her eyes as if she must to clamber for memories. “I’d messaged her that morning to say I wanted to discuss my future and suggested I was unsure about medicine.”
“She mentioned that as she dragged me to your house. Your dad was at work, but your brother was there. He disliked me because there was something he worried I’d tell you. Your mum was livid, blaming me for your decision to ditch medicine.”
“I’m sorry.” Her shoulders trembled. Sadness was overwhelming her again. “I’m sorry you had to face them alone.”
“I’m glad you weren’t there so you didn’t have to listen to their vitriol.
They told me I must break things off with you.
They suspected we were sleeping together.
Although we were adults, they talked like I’d coerced you.
That night was about our love, yet they spoke about us like I should be ashamed. ”
“It’s taken years for Mum to consider me an adult. I still try to act more innocent than I am. I’ve not helped myself.”
He stared at her, his forehead tightening, wishing he could stop her blaming herself. But he was in the same place as she was.
“But why did you run?” she asked tentatively.
“They said they’d stop us from seeing each other.
My parents briefly struggled financially, and with our dads being friends, your dad helped them out.
I couldn’t give them money because I’d given mine away.
Your mum said she’d stop your dad from helping them.
” Millie gasped, but she yanked up the front of her sleeping bag, muffling it.
“I don’t think she meant it. She was reacting.
She said she’d send you to boarding school. ”
“That’s ludicrous. She wouldn’t have done that. You were leaving for university.”
“If I’d spoken with my parents and thought clearly, I’d have known all of this, but I panicked.
To ensure your happiness, I had to leave.
I wanted you to follow your dreams of medicine–what I thought were your dreams. I didn’t want to ruin your life.
As I returned home, I realised that for as long as I was in your life, I’d hold you back.
Those worries I told you I had as a teenager? ”
She nodded.
“I was certain I wasn’t good enough for you. I panicked that you’d look at me and realise I’d ruined your life. You’d see me as the mistake.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that.”
He dropped his head, studying anything but her.
“You were an incredible person, intelligent, caring, and beautiful. You volunteered at dog shelters and with kids at the hospital, and you still achieved the top grades at college. I was a jock headed to university to study the easiest subjects. I was in awe of you, and every day we’d hang out, I’d wait for you to realise you could do better than me. ”
“Look at me, Strike,” Millie snapped, but he kept his head down.
“And then we took that camping trip, and we kissed. In that moment, all my dreams came true, but the fears worsened. I was terrified you’d find out I was a fraud or that I wasn’t good enough to be in your shadow,” Strike mumbled, his voice shaking and tears running down his cheeks.
A sob left Millie’s mouth. “You were the greatest person I’d ever met.”
Millie pulled the hood of her sleeping bag down. With trembling, pale fingers, she tucked strands of still wet hair behind her ears.
“You’re shaking,” Strike said. “You need to get warm.”
“I’m fine.” But her voice trembled.
“Get in my sleeping bag.”
Her face was a whisper away from his.
“You need to warm up and…” He closed his eyes and sighed sadly. “And I need you close so I’m not as damaged as I feel right now and so for a second I can believe you don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” she replied, her voice as gentle as the heart she kept showing him.
He opened his eyes. Even in the darkness, he could see the softness of her gaze.
“Is your sleeping bag big enough for two?” she stuttered.
“It’s big enough for us. Will you join me for tonight?” He unzipped the sleeping bag, his fingers trembling as she crawled out of hers. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”
But he wanted it to mean something, even as he internally kept pulling away. She’d said in the lake she was falling for him again, but there was too much pain between them.
“Okay.” She tucked herself into him so they spooned, and he zipped them up. “I don’t know what else to say. I need time to process all of this.”
He wondered if she’d press for more. There were details he was omitting, but she’d been through enough for tonight. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got a long drive tomorrow, so ask all the questions then or when we get to Cornwall.”
“And I need to talk to my family. I’m not saying you’ve lied, but I need to know why they did what they did.”
“They thought they were protecting you from your big bad neighbour who was obsessed with you.”
“It’s not enough of a reason. But I don’t think there ever will be enough of one.”
She exhaled slowly. He wanted to take all the hurt from her. She wrapped his arms around her. He squeezed her, sharing his warmth. “Will you tell me about one of your scars?”
“You haven’t heard enough emotional stuff tonight?”
She shivered, and he pulled her tighter to his chest. “After hearing about the past, I want to know what happened to you after you left, what made you become this man. I won’t force you, though.”
He sighed a juddering sigh. She’d finally faced her fears about the past and shared her pain with him. He wanted to do the same for her. He wanted her to understand why he still kept his barriers up. “Okay.”
He tightened his hold of her. Her body was soft and the comfort he needed. She threaded her fingers through his.
“The ones on my back are from an incident with my platoon. We were on a fact-finding mission. We were readying to leave the town when everything turned to shit. My squadron commander later told me I should’ve gotten out of there sooner, but I needed to rescue my team.
It left me vulnerable, and a couple of us were captured. ”
“Did anyone die during the incident?”
He swallowed the searing burn tightening his throat. “Yes, and a couple of people from the town nearly got caught in the crossfire. We tried to keep enemy casualties to a minimum. It wasn’t as bad that time”
“That time?”
“I’ve seen and done things I can’t forget, things necessary for survival, but that haunt me.”
She squeezed his fingers. “Things that give you emotional and physical scars?”
“Yes.” His voice wobbled, and he couldn’t clear his rasp. “But the scars you saw were from the interrogation after I was captured. My captors whipped me with a stick with a metal ball attached.”
She sucked in a breath. Her pulse thrummed faster against his wrist. “Were there times you thought you’d die?”
“You try not to let those thoughts in. You plan your survival. If you let anything encroach on that, you’re useless to yourself and your squadron.”
She snuffled like she was crying as she asked, “How long were you captured for?”
“A week. I spoke to others who’d been there longer. One man was there for five years. But I got through it. I was rescued. I came away with burns and scars, but my body was intact.”
“How could you survive that mentally?” Her voice was hoarse, and he pulled her closer.
“I remembered the things I loved the most. I imagined the sunsets I’d see when released. I attempted to write a future.” In the worst moments of his life, she was the only future he’d been able to imagine.
“Thank you for telling me.” She rubbed her thumb against her cheek, her shoulders quivering with sadness. “It breaks my heart you experienced that,” she said, her voice cracking with sobs.
He brushed kisses against her hair. “Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered. “I’m safe now. It’s okay.”
“Your experiences have helped you care for people.”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t do that. I’m the grumpy one on the team.”
“I’ve watched you do it when you’re not acting like a dickhead.”
He chuckled and sighed. His limbs loosening. “I used to be worse than I am now. When I first came home, I was an arsehole to anyone who dared mess with my routines or my way of working.”
“What changed?”
“Therapy. My counsellor helped me to work through some of my shit. And my parents made a difference by loving me for who I was. And Liss—or rather Liss and Bear—watching them together gave me hope that life wasn’t just about pain and pushing people out.
” He kept everyone at a distance to hide from his darkness, but now Millie was in his life.
“Would you believe I was difficult and grumpy with Liss when Bear and I first looked after her? I was so fucking rude.”
“Of course I would.”
“You’re such a brat.” His laugh rumbled through his chest, opening it up to little beams of hope. “Well, seeing Liss and Bear together changed me.”
“Does she know?”
He bit his lip. “I presume so.”
“You should tell her. She’d love to hear that. And you need to tell your parents, too. People don’t share how they feel enough with those who count.”
“I will.” He cleared his throat, willing the thickness away. “Something else helped, too. I became a bit of a social media lurker. I liked to learn different things.”
“You can say you watch porn. We all do,” she teased.
“Is that right, Sunset? Tell me more.”
“Get lost.” He barked out a laugh. “So if not porn, what do you lurk on?”
“Just social media stuff.” She yawned and snuggled closer. “I’ll tell you another time. We’re tired, and it’s been a hell of a day. We’ve got to leave early.”
“You’re such a tease.”
He sighed into her hair, a smile tickling his lips. “One day, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Everything.” She hummed.
He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight, Sunset.”
“Goodnight, Strike.”