“Do you ever want to?”
“Sometimes I’d like to bake,” Shay said, giving the kitchen a look of yearning. “But I’m usually so busy and Garret is so good at cooking that I just let him take it over.”
“When we get the homes built, he’ll have his own kitchen and you can have yours back.”
“I was thinking about that. Among a hundred other things,” she admitted.
“What do you like to bake?”
“I love making bread. My mom taught me and I love the process, the hands on, the smell of the yeast, the bread or rolls rising. And then baking—” She rubbed her stomach. “It’s making me hungry just thinking about it.”
Silence fell softly around them.
“What about you, Reese? Were you ever married? You seem like a man who would be married.” She gave him an apologetic look. “If I’m getting too personal, tell me to butt out.”
He pushed the mug away from him and studied it for a moment. “I was married once. Her name was Leslie, and she’s a good woman. I chased her away by being, among other things, a jerk, too full of pride and too scared to admit I had a problem.” He saw Shay’s expression turn sad. Just the way she looked made Reese reluctantly go on. He’d never told anyone about his divorce. “I was too full of myself at that age. I thought I knew what I was doing. Told her I could handle it,” he went on gruffly.
“The PTSD symptoms?”
“Yeah.” He pushed his fingers through his hair that desperately needed to be cut well. “She begged me to get help. Instead of agreeing, I told her I’d change. Of course, I didn’t see my symptoms, but Leslie did. My parents did. I just didn’t want to address them because if my superiors knew I was going for any kind of therapy, I could kiss my career good-bye.” He shot her a grimace. “You know how it goes in the military. If you ask for therapy, they get rid of you.”
“I certainly do,” she whispered. “For officer or enlisted. The military doesn’t care. They want to sweep us and our PTSD under the rug.”
“Turning a blind eye for damned sure.”
“You didn’t go, then? And your symptoms spiraled?”
His lips tightened and he looked away. “I’d been on four deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan, maybe three or four months back to the States, and then redeployed back over there again. I was waking up screaming at night . . .” He felt his stomach churn with grief. So many mistakes he’d made with Leslie. Rubbing his stubbled jaw, he barely got out, “I was in the middle of a flashback. She turned over to wake me up and I hit her.” Reese glanced up to see her reaction. Shay had tears in her eyes. Unable to hold her gaze, he looked away.
“Long story short,” he went on in a clipped tone, “is that I never wanted to hit her again. She was so shaken by it. Confused. Les didn’t understand about flashbacks, how you get caught up in them. I didn’t help the situation by explaining what was going on, either.” Reese flexed his fist on the table, staring down at it. “Two days later, after a lot of arguing, anger, and hurt, she asked me for a divorce. Said she couldn’t continue to live that way.” His voice lowered with regret. “And I agreed with her. I loved her. I never wanted to hurt her ever again. I don’t believe a woman or child should ever have a hand lifted toward them.”
“God, I’m so sorry, Reese. So sorry.” Shay reached across the table, stretching her fingers out to grip his momentarily. She blinked back the tears. Reese wouldn’t want to see her crying for him. It would just make him feel worse. His eyes were moist. His mouth was thin and tight, forcing back emotions. Shay was sure he was battling grief and anguish over the divorce. Over how it happened.
Reese pulled his hand out of hers. “It was my fault. All of it.”
“Did you go back over to Afghanistan after that?”
“Yeah, received the divorce papers four months later over there.” He snorted. “It made a bad month even worse.”
Hearing the agony in his lowered voice, Shay sat there feeling so bad for Reese. “How long were you married?”
“Not long enough. Five years.”
“As I said, you look like you’re the type to be married.” She saw him give her a look of disbelief. Shrugging, she said, “Some guys just look marriageable, Reese. To me, you’re one of them.”
“Leslie was a civilian paralegal at Camp Pendleton. I met her in the legal office one day.” Reese swallowed hard, unable to meet Shay’s eyes. “She’s a good person. Always will be.”
“Is there any chance you’ll get together again with her?”
“No. She remarried two years ago. Has a baby girl now. And a husband who is good to her. She’s happy and I’m happy for her. For all of them.”
Her stomach clenched. There was such grief in Reese’s face, no matter how much he tried to hide it or make it go away. “At least, she had a happy ending,” Shay said gently.
“She deserves a lot more than I ever gave her.”