Chapter 8
Victor
Hearing Gabbi laugh like that sends both a sting to my eyes and a wave of warmth through my chest. I don’t think I’ve heard her laugh like that in years.
After standing outside of Ty’s open front door, like a fucking creeper, listening to my wife laugh, I decide that grabbing the beer that Ty brought me wasn’t worth interrupting the wives.
Ty stands up when I walk back into my garage. He’s the same height as me, with a little slimmer frame and dark brown, almost black hair, cut into a low fade. “Hey, where’s the bougie beer I brought you?” His eyebrows pull down over his dark brown eyes in confusion.
“I left it in your fridge. I figured we have enough here to last us a while. I’ll save it for another time.” Watching D run his hand over the soft black leather seat on my bike, I sit on my mechanic’s stool, “Hey, D? Quit feeling up my bike. Don’t you have your own?”
D smirks at me, coming back to the metal card table and camping chairs I set up.
I figured the guys would hang here while the women did their thing over at Ty and Emma’s new place.
“Yes, douchebag, I have my own. I was just wondering why you had an old man bike. You should look at getting a Ducati like mine, which tops out at like 190 miles an hour.”
He’s so smug sometimes. “I’m 39, man, we’re the same age, jackass. Plus, I don’t need to go 190. Besides, you’re looking at a 2021 Indian Scout; it’s not an old man’s bike.”
“Defensive. I get it.” Again with his cocky smirk and a shoulder shrug, “I like the crimson red though, looks devilish.” My only response is to roll my eyes.
For the next few hours, the five of us sit around my garage, drinking and catching up.
Busting each other’s balls and reminiscing about some of the dumbass things we did while in the service.
Eventually, D, Cookie, and Wolf head back over to Ty’s to get their wives and head to bed, leaving me and Ty alone.
“How are you holding up, Kid?” Ty comes and sits next to me on the wooden garage stairs.
Letting out a deep breath, I look at him, beer bottle hanging from my fingers, “Not good, man. I just don’t know what happened.
When Gabbi and I got back together a billion years ago and decided to get married, we talked about what my position in special operations meant.
Years later, we had a similar conversation when I became team leader and again when deployments increased.
“I thought we were doing well up until the deployment to Africa. When I came back, everything was different. She didn’t want me to touch her, thought I was cheating on her, and needed to always be in control; it was like I came home to a whole other woman.”
Ty crinkles his eyebrows in thought. “That deployment to Africa was 14 months,” our longest deployment. “A lot can happen in that amount of time. Have you talked to her about it?”
Looking straight ahead at the 1985 black El Camino sitting on jacks on the other side of the garage, I admit, “I tried a couple of times when I first got home, but every time I tried, she shut down on me.
I know they say give you and your spouse space to adjust after a deployment, and I tried.
But it felt like the more space I gave her, the farther away she felt.
I missed her so damn much on that deployment; all I wanted to do was bury myself inside her and never leave.
“Needless to say, that didn’t happen; instead, it seems like I repulse her. I mean, fuck, Ty, I can count the number of times we had sex since that deployment on one hand.” I toss the now-empty beer bottle in the trash, and a loud clink echoes in the garage.
Ty puts his hand on my shoulder, warming my skin through the shirt, and takes a deep breath.
“Okay. That was a lot of info,” he chuckles, “but I think that Emma and I may be able to help you guys.” There’s that ember of hope again, “I also might be able to help you with that lack of purpose feeling you told me about the last time we talked.”
Ty pushes off the stairs and stands up, moving to walk out of the garage, but stops short and turns to face me.
“But Kid? Before we talk anymore about this, I need you to really look at your wife. I mean, look at her, and figure out if she’s still what you want and what you’re willing to do to keep her.
” That sounds ominous, but I nod my head in response.
Just then, my phone sounds off with a text message.
Diablo: Yo Kid, you might want to come get Peanut. She’s been drinking tequila with the girls all night.
Fuck.