Chapter 2
LEO
“Stupid fucking marmot,” I mutter as I pick up more debris to place in a large trash bag.
Yes, it’s a marmot. No, he isn’t supposed to be this far down in elevation, as marmots typically live above the tree line.
I don’t know why this exact marmot has decided to wreak havoc on my hometown of Eternity Springs, Colorado, and especially my family’s boutique hotel, Everlasting Inn and Spa, but I know he has fun.
Picking up a ripped hockey jersey, I shake my head. “Luca is gonna skin your damn ass if he finds you, Mason.”
I didn’t name the marmot. The town did. He’s become our town mascot, with many of the residents — mostly the women — thinking he’s so cute and don’t care that he destroys stuff.
But my brother, Luca, is ready to shoot the marmot dead as soon as he finds him, because Mason has an affinity for Luca’s old hockey memorabilia.
Now retired, my brother spent many years with the NHL Denver Wolves hockey team, and now coaches the Eternity Springs High School hockey team.
He still likes to look at his old things, though, and I really hope this isn’t a one-of-a-kind jersey that can’t be replaced.
“Leo? Are you out here?”
Fuck. I stand still, hoping like hell my body is lined up perfectly with the tree I’m next to. It’s not that I’m avoiding my sister, Gianna, but I totally am.
“Leo. You’re getting rusty. I’m following your footprints in the snow, dummy.”
Well, God dammit. I sigh loudly, making Gianna giggle.
It’s one of my favorite sounds in the world, and I even had a recording of her giggle saved in my phone to play when I was deployed.
Our mom often fondly tells people how I would make Gia laugh as a toddler, over and over again, just to hear the sound.
That little trip down memory lane is abruptly stopped when a snowball hits me square in the face. “God, you really are getting rusty! I thought you’d stop that before it hit you!”
“I guess I am rusty,” I mumble, swiping snow from my cheeks and eyelashes.
It’s not like I have any reason to stay on top of things.
The Army booted me out as soon as I got injured, and they don’t even want me to help train new soldiers.
A mangled leg and a traumatic brain injury aren’t good for the Army’s public image.
“Want to come over for dinner? Your nephew misses you,” Gianna says lightly.
Looking down at her, with her curls shooting out from under a hat, I marvel at how we’re twins.
Fraternal twins, obviously, but we’re nothing alike.
Gia tops out at maybe five-six, whereas I’m six-three.
Her hair is a lighter shade of brown than mine, and tight curls surround her face.
But we have the same eyes, and that fascinating connection that all twins seem to have, because whenever I’m really struggling, Gia shows up.
“I guess your husband is working tonight?” I ask wryly.
“Yes, but that’s not why I’m asking you over,” she huffs. “I found a new recipe I want to try. You’ve always been my favorite guinea pig.”
Ain’t that the truth. She’s been force-feeding me since we were teenagers.
Every time I came home from deployment, or the rare times I visited on leave from the Army, Gianna was ready with a binder of recipes to try.
She’s not a baker like our sister Isabella, or someone who wants to feed the masses, like our mom.
Gia likes to experiment in the kitchen, and she has an eclectic palette.
“Alright, I can come over. Do you want me to bring anything?” I ask, as I rub a hand against the back of my neck.
A tension headache is coming on. I get them fairly often since the TBI, but only Gianna knows.
My family knows I was injured, but Gianna and our parents are the only ones who know to what extent.
I’m a private person. I always have been.
I kept my circle of friends small, even as a child.
Going into the Army, it was easy to transition into a top secret career field where I couldn’t share anything, even if I’d wanted to.
Our tasks were usually of the “get in, get the job done, get out, and don’t ask questions” type.
I fucking loved it. The group of guys I was with became a second family.
Ride or die. Until that last op, when only half of us came home.
“No, you don’t need to bring anything,” Gianna says quietly. “Did you ever go to that acupuncturist I found?”
“No,” I answer bluntly.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t need some new age woman talking about my aura and claiming she’s rid me of the ghosts of my past while she jams needles into my body.”
“That’s not … well, I don’t think that’s what happens during acupuncture, but I honestly don’t know. So what if they do all of that, Leo? If it helps your headaches, does it matter?” Gia asks.
I shrug. “I don’t see how it’ll help. The military doctors said this is just who I am now. My head is fucked up even more than it was.”
“Have you been going to the therapist Dom recommended?” she asks, but I don’t answer.
No. I’m not in a place to even think about therapy.
I’m still too pissed off. I’m angry that I’m hurt and that the Army didn’t care.
I’m angry that my career was taken from me in a split second.
And I’m so fucking angry that I watched some of my best friends get blown up. So no, not ready for therapy.
“Leo,” Gianna whispers.
“Leave it alone, Gia.”
“No,” she snaps. I look down at her to see a murderous expression, hands on her hips in annoyance. “No, I will not leave you alone. I’ve walked on eggshells for too long, letting you traipse around like you’re in purgatory.”
“Maybe I am in purgatory! Maybe this is exactly what I’ve been given because I deserved it!” I shout, throwing up my arms in frustration. I lost everything. People have broken hearts because of me. Surely this is my penance.
I hate when my mind plays the “what if” game. What if I hadn’t turned right? What if I’d stopped twenty seconds prior? What if I hadn’t reenlisted? What if I’d proposed that night? What if she hadn’t moved on? What if I was still with her, and we were married today?
Ella Langley stole my heart from the moment I saw her in eighth grade.
Wavy blonde hair that seemed to sparkle under the sun and crystal clear blue eyes that made my heart beat faster when they looked at me, I was a goner from the beginning.
She’d been a transfer, immediately pulled into the popular crowd, far away from me.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Always the loner, I mostly kept to myself, or hung with Gia.
I was always aware of Ella, feeling like the air shifted whenever she was near me.
It only took six months before I spoke to her, courtesy of Gia befriending her, and I was even more captivated by her soft and steadfast personality.
Ella pulled me out of my shell, but in a quiet and patient way, never making me feel like I wasn’t enough.
“I think we should talk about her,” Gia comments, reading my thoughts. Stupid twin thing.
“No.”
“Leo,” Gianna protests, but I throw up a hand to stop her from speaking.
“There’s nothing to talk about. She broke up with me. She moved on. That ship sailed, and I’ve come to terms with it,” I lie. I haven’t come to terms with jack shit.
I’d only been home in Eternity Springs for a few months when I ran into Ella.
My mom had convinced me to go into town with her to pick up some baked goods at Bake, Batter, and Bowl, my sister Isabella’s bakery.
Begrudgingly, I went, keeping my head down as I stiffly walked behind my mom.
That’s probably why I didn’t see Ella until she was right in front of me.
I didn’t have time to prepare myself. I saw her beautiful face, with an infant bundled up against the cold January temperatures, huddled against her chest, and I thought I was having a heart attack.
She’d stammered my name, but I didn’t give her any time to continue.
Rushing past her, I stalked into Isabella’s bakery, walking past the counter, and straight into the back.
I’ve always hated getting “the look” from people.
For me, it comes for a variety of reasons, but it almost always comes quicker than I’d like.
Hearing I was injured overseas, or that I lost many friends in our failed mission usually gets a gasp, a sympathetic hand on my arm, and the look of sadness.
Explaining I had no intention of moving back to Eternity because I wanted to continue working in some capacity for the military gets a look of sympathy mixed with consternation, like they think I couldn’t possibly know what I want in my life.
Finding out I have a traumatic brain injury because of my last mission makes people somehow feel guilty, and that look usually leads to them skedaddling pretty quickly.
How my injuries in a war overseas becomes about them, I’ll never understand.
But when I got a mixture of the first and second look from Ella, I peaced out of there as fast as possible.
I knew she didn’t want me to stay in the military.
Our last fight, and subsequent breakup, had been about just that.
I’d begged her to join me in North Carolina, but she’d refused.
She begged me to move home, and I said no.
We were in a stalemate, and she’d dropped the bomb on me about a breakup. I shouldn’t have agreed to it.
I went back to North Carolina an emotionally broken man, and threw myself into work to avoid thinking about her.
Ella only reached out once, a few months after we broke up, but I’d been deployed and out of range.
I didn’t get the message for a few weeks, and when I tried to return her call, she didn’t answer.
Did she regret the breakup? Was there something she’d needed from me? I never found out.
“… I don’t think it’s healthy for you to avoid everything having to do with Ella. You’re bound to run into her again,” Gianna says quietly, bringing me back to the present.
“Not if I never leave Everlasting’s property,” I mutter.
“Oh, that’s a super mature response,” Gia snaps.
I shrug. “There aren’t many reasons to leave. Anything I might need from town can be delivered these days, and I’m sure as hell not going to go hang out at bars to try and pick up women.”
“A date might do you some good, actually. When’s the last time you took someone out?”
An actual date? Ella. Eight years ago. “What the hell does that matter?”
Gia steps in front of me, lightly poking me in the stomach. “Look. I don’t like talking about this either, but maybe you need to find someone who can help you … loosen up a little bit.”
Jesus Christ. “Are you seriously suggesting I find a fuck buddy?”
She throws up her hands in frustration. “I don’t care what you call it, but you’re wound so damn tightly! There has to be a woman out there who you can enjoy for a night, without getting attached, and who doesn’t talk too much. I know you hate chatty people.”
She’s right about that. “I know your heart is in the right place, but talking about my sex life with my twin sister isn’t my jam.
But if you must know, I don’t want to have to explain my injuries to a woman.
To have sex, you have to remove clothes.
Women don’t seem to have the ability to keep quiet. ”
“We are typically chatty bitches, huh,” she muses with a smile. “I have to think there’s at least one woman out there who will respect your boundaries, Leo. Both emotional and physical ones. Have you thought about looking into a, uh, service?”
My mouth drops open as I stare at my twin incredulously. “You did not just suggest I find an escort or prostitute.”
Gianna’s eyes fail to meet mine as she glances all around us. “When you word it like that, it sounds much worse than what I intended.”
“Whatever you intended, the answer is no. I will not use a ‘service’” — I use air quotes — “to find a woman to sleep with me. If, and when, I want to fuck, I’ll figure it out.”
“If?” she screeches. “Holy shit, Leo! If? Have you not had sex since?”
Well, fuck. “Go home, Gia. I’m not talking about this with you.”
I feel her hand tentatively grip mine, and I look down to find her studying me. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? Or Travis. We’re a safe space for you.”
I know she means well. Truly. But the demons hounding me from the past eight years are too much for her to handle. That’s why I stay alone. Cut off. Isolated. Because no one will ever be able to fix me.