Chapter 2
She was going to throw up. Everly swallowed once, twice, trying to quell the rising nausea that threatened to double her over, Jeremy’s ring leaden in her hand.
“Ev? You okay?” Grant’s voice sounded far away, and she tore her gaze from her palm to find his expression pained. She knew that look, the one she’d seen from so many well-intentioned people over the past six months—the pity for the war hero’s widow. She’d grown to hate it.
“Yeah. I just—I need a minute.” She dropped the ring onto the counter that divided the living room from the kitchen and forced herself to take the stairs two at a time, her hand clamped over her mouth.
Her belly clenched tight, bile burning her throat, and she barely made it to her bathroom before her stomach emptied itself.
After a few painful moments, the queasiness subsided, and Everly sat down on the rug, the cold porcelain of the bathtub pressed against her back. His wedding ring ? He’d tried to send it back to her. Which meant—
She tamped down the memory of that last horrible day, the last time she and Jeremy had ever spoken. Hot tears slid down her cheeks, and she cursed her inability to stop them, swiping at her eyes with a handful of toilet paper.
A minute passed, then two, before Everly drew in a shaky breath and stood on wobbly legs to survey herself in the mirror.
Her face was pale and blotchy, her eyelids already beginning to swell.
She ran some cold water to soak a washcloth, then pressed it to her stinging eyes.
She knew from experience that she only needed a few minutes to make herself presentable.
“I’m okay,” she whispered to herself, waiting for the cold cloth to work its magic.
“I’m okay.” Her voice wavered, the words ringing hollow in her ears.
Dr. Schafer had encouraged her to repeat affirmations when overwhelm crept in, something soothing to anchor her.
But her mind was too scrambled to summon one.
All she could feel was the ache deep in her chest, the one that reminded her she was unmoored and adrift, now more than ever.
The washcloth grew warm, and Everly removed it, then searched the top drawer for her concealer .
She dabbed the wand on her ever-present dark circles and over her eyelids, then applied a coat of mascara.
A sweep of powder over her cheeks, and the illusion was complete, as if she’d never been crying at all.
She cracked open the bathroom door and listened, half-hoping that Grant had decided to leave while she was upstairs so that she didn’t have to face him again.
No such luck. Faint snippets of his voice sounded from below, and Everly sighed.
If she didn’t go down there, he was sure to come looking for her soon.
Steeling herself, she trudged down the stairs and wondered which excuse would work best to shoo him out the door so that she could finish the day as she’d planned.
What plan? A Lean Cuisine on the couch for dinner, Netflix playing in the background while you scroll your phone till bedtime?
She rounded the corner at the bottom of the steps and stopped short.
Grant had found one of Posie’s favorite toys—a miniature fishing rod with a feathery fish attached—and was busy dangling it over her head.
Posie leapt through the air, her tail as white and puffy as a cloud, and snagged the fish with her claws, yanking the toy from Grant’s grasp and trotting off with her prize in her mouth.
He laughed as the cat escaped, and the sound warmed a cold, neglected part of Everly’s heart.
Their townhouse had been the official-unofficial designated hangout spot for STAG.
None of the guys had a steady girlfriend or wife, except for Jeremy, and she’d loved cooking for the team when they piled into the living room to watch a game or just visit.
They’d all sit around, drinking beer and stuffing themselves silly with the snacks and appetizers Everly whipped up in the kitchen.
She could almost hear their good-natured ribbing, their jokes, their laughter—just like Grant was laughing now, making the house feel a little bit alive again for a moment.
Posie spotted her and dropped her toy, nuzzling Everly’s ankle and chittering as if she’d been gone all day. “Are you having fun with your new friend?” Everly asked her, bending to stroke the soft fur between her ears.
Grant leapt to his feet from his place on the couch. “Are you all right? I had no idea he was sending you—”
Everly straightened and cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I’m good. Just surprised is all. But I’m fine now.” She forced a smile and hoped he would believe her, then steeled herself to make a polite excuse and usher him out the door and out of her life.
He stood, twisting his beret in his hands, and Everly searched for the right words, her resolve rapidly fading. Grant would leave, and then…what? The house would be quiet again. Too quiet.
“I should head back to Savannah.” Grant hesitated, then tugged the beret onto his head. “I’m sorry for dropping in on you like this, Ev. I really didn’t know.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his expression somber as his eyes met hers.
“Just stay.” The words tumbled out of her before she even had time to weigh them.
“It’s a long drive back, and I’ve still got the guest bed upstairs.
No reason to fight the city traffic this late in the afternoon.
” Even without checking a traffic report, she knew there were already accidents and delays on all the major roads running through the city, as there were every day in Atlanta.
His forehead wrinkled. “You don’t have to invite me to stay. I know you’ve probably got plans for the evening.”
“I really don’t.” Everly hoped she didn’t sound desperate. If he stayed, she’d have a distraction. Something else to focus on besides an answer that had come six months too late.
Grant glanced at his watch. “I don’t know. Traffic might not be that heavy yet.” He jingled his keys in his pocket with his other hand as he spoke, and Everly sensed her chance for company slipping through her fingers.
She snatched her phone from the kitchen table and opened the maps app, then turned it so he could see the screen. Red lines surrounded the city like a spiderweb. “Gridlocked,” she announced. “I think there’s a Braves game tonight.”
“Ugh. Baseball traffic. I wouldn’t mind skipping out on that particular Saturday night experience.” He shook his head and smiled. “I give up. You win. We can drink beer and find a crappy movie to watch on TV.”
“It’ll be like old times,” she said, forcing a lightness into her voice that she didn’t feel. “And Posie will be thrilled.” At the sound of her name, Posie trotted over and meowed, rubbing her face against Grant’s legs. “He doesn’t have any food for you, chunky monkey,” she chided.
Grant scooped the cat up in his arms. “You don’t feel like you’ve missed many meals.
” He gave her an affectionate pat and handed her to Everly, their hands brushing as he placed Posie in her arms. A shiver ran through her at the momentary contact.
“I’ve got a bag in the truck. Not that I was planning to stay,” he added quickly.
“I always keep one with me just in case. Never know what might happen on the road.”
She knew, because Jeremy had been the same way—always prepared for the unexpected.
Life in covert ops meant deployments at a moment’s notice to anywhere in the world.
She’d spent countless nights laying awake after a midnight call that Jeremy was needed in some remote corner of the globe.
It wasn’t an easy life, but she’d understood why he did it. Why they all did.
“Sounds good. I’m going to feed Posie, and then I’ll work on making supper while you get settled.” Everly lowered her to the ground and then scooped some kibble into her bowl. “You remember where the guest room is, right? Second door on your left.”
“I remember.” Grant headed towards the door. “I’ve missed your cooking, by the way,” he called over his shoulder.
Her heart pinched a little at his words. She missed it, too. For years, she’d felt like she belonged here, like she had a place among the team members in some way. Those days were long gone.
◆◆◆
Everly rummaged around in the fridge and came up empty-handed. “I totally forgot to get groceries today,” she said as she turned to Grant. “I’m afraid my hostess skills have gotten rusty. How does takeout sound?”
“Perfect. I can go pick something up for us.” He stood on the other side of the counter, nursing a beer. She’d at least had that much in the fridge.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just get it delivered.” She pulled a menu out of a drawer. “Is Chinese okay? They’re pretty familiar with my address these days.”
He glanced at the menu that she laid between them on the counter. “Chan’s? Hell yeah. I see some General Tso’s in my future.”
She called in their order—Grant insisted on paying, despite her protests—and soon they were eating together on the couch in front of the TV.
To Everly’s surprise, it really did feel like old times, like nothing had changed at all in the last six months.
Yummy food, a cheesy movie, and a familiar face to keep her company—it was a comfortable routine, one that helped to fade the raw shock she’d felt earlier.
Still, she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts.
At least right now she could pretend for awhile that everything was normal.
Everly stifled a yawn and tried to focus on the movie they’d picked, one of those low budget sci-fi thrillers that all the streaming services were churning out.
Green-skinned creatures ran through the desert while astronauts fired a laser cannon at them.
She yawned again, her eyes growing heavy, until the hero rescued the damsel in distress and was rewarded with a passionate kiss.