Page 15 of Devlin (Lighthouse Security Investigations Montana #4)

Mia pressed her back against the cool metal of the door, her breath catching as she tried to make sense of the storm swirling inside her.

The day had been a relentless assault on her emotions, each one clawing for dominance—anger, confusion, and a flicker of something she didn’t want to name. She felt like a dam ready to break.

Jim Devlin. Seeing him again had been like ripping open an old wound, one she thought had long since scarred over.

When he asked to talk, the words she’d buried for years nearly spilled out.

Go to hell. She wanted to say it. She wanted to scream it.

But the haunted and pleading look in his eyes had stolen her voice, leaving her standing there, clutching at the tattered remains of her resolve.

He’d blown them apart once, wielding their love like a stick of dynamite. Yet there was still a painful, aching pull she couldn’t ignore. It infuriated her.

A bitter snort escaped her lips as she leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling as if the answers might be written there. What could he possibly say to make any of this better? The scars he’d left behind weren’t the kind that words could heal.

And as he had walked away, she’d heard the faint crunch of gravel through the open window next to her. Then his voice drifted through the night air, soft as a prayer. “Good night, my Mia.”

The breath in her lungs stilled. My Mia. The endearment hit her like a whisper from the past, an echo of a memory she thought she’d locked away forever.

The first time he’d called her that was at the high school junior dance.

She could still feel the way his arms held her close, the warmth of his gaze as their bodies swayed in perfect rhythm.

He’d kissed her then—tentative, tender, as though he was afraid to break the moment.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered over hers, and he’d whispered, “My Mia.” Those two words had been a vow, a promise, and for years, she’d believed it with everything she had.

Hearing it now, after all this time, after all the pain.

.. it unraveled her. She lost all sense of time until a sharp knock on the door yanked her from the spiral of memory.

She straightened, her heart thudding as she wondered if it was Devlin again.

Her fingers hesitated on the doorknob, torn between the desire to send him away and the reckless urge to confront him.

But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Devlin standing there. It was Elizabeth, holding a bottle of wine, flanked by Ritah, Prossy, Karen, and Doreen, their faces alight with curiosity and concern.

“What’s going on?” Mia asked, blinking at them in surprise.

Elizabeth raised the bottle with a sly grin.

“Ritah spilled the beans about the handsome man who was asking about you. Now, you need to tell us who he is. And if you say no, we’re bribing you with this.

” She shook the bottle, adding with a sheepish smile, “Okay, it’s not the best wine, and it’s already been opened. But I figured it was worth a shot.”

For a moment, Mia wanted to shut them out, to bury everything deep where it couldn’t hurt her anymore.

The story of her and Devlin wasn’t something she shared lightly—it was too raw, too personal.

But as she looked at their eager faces, something inside her softened.

These women had seen her at her strongest, but maybe it was time to show them her scars, too.

“Come in,” she said, stepping back to let them pass. “But if you want the full story, it’s a good thing I have another bottle.”

As they settled into her small space, the women lounged beside each other on the bed, legs stretched out with their backs against the wall.

Mia perched on the chair after she grabbed a few plastic cups from the shelf.

The wine was poured, and five pairs of eyes fixed on her, patient but expectant.

For the first time in years, Mia felt the tiniest crack in the wall she’d built around herself.

She took a deep breath, swirling the wine in her cup. “Okay,” she said softly. “Here’s how it started... and how it ended.”

Mia let her gaze sweep over her friends, marveling at how different yet perfectly they fit together.

Ritah and Doreen, both Ugandan, exuded quiet strength.

Ritah, poised and confident, was a natural leader in her department, while Doreen’s shyness masked a deeply compassionate heart.

Karen, the head nurse with a fiery Irish temperament, was the steady anchor of Doc Elaine’s team.

Her humor kept everyone grounded. Then there was Elizabeth, the sharp-witted American, heading the Economic and Livelihood Program with her husband.

And Prossy, a brilliant and tireless South Sudanese teacher who worked in the children’s education centers.

These women represented the best of humanity, a rare and beautiful gathering of resilience, humor, and heart.

Mia hesitated for a moment, the weight of her story pressing against her ribs. But then she smiled softly. For the first time in years, she felt ready to let someone else carry a piece of it with her.

“I was fifteen years old when I first met Jim Devlin,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with nostalgia.

Ritah’s eyes immediately widened, and Karen’s sharp gasp filled the room.

Mia laughed, shaking her head. “If that shocks you, I’m not sure you’re ready for the rest of this story.”

“You’re right,” Elizabeth said, her grin wry. “Good thing you’ve got more wine. Keep going—I have a feeling this is just the beginning.”

She paused, a rueful smile tugging at her lips.

“I was with the environmental club outside the school, protesting about the cafeteria’s wasteful practices.

When the principal brushed me off, I decided to stage a protest. So I marched down to the football field during practice, pulled out a chain, and locked myself to the goalpost.”

Elizabeth burst into laughter, nearly spilling her wine. “Oh my God! I can so see you doing that!”

“What a little rebel you were!” Doreen added, her shy grin emerging.

Mia couldn’t help but chuckle at their reactions.

“The football team was livid, the coach was apoplectic, and the principal came storming down the hill with two police officers in tow. I stayed polite but firm, even when one of the officers didn’t appreciate being made a fool of.

He started to grab at me, and before I could even react, one of the football players stepped between us. ”

She leaned forward, her voice softening as she replayed the moment. “He was fully suited up in his uniform and pads, towering over everyone. He told the officer that they could talk to me, but no one was laying a hand on me.”

The room went still as her friends absorbed the moment. Karen’s eyes shimmered with awe. “That is so sweet,” she whispered.

Mia’s smile faltered, the memory tugging at her chest. “I didn’t want him to get in trouble, so I unchained myself.

The police left, and the principal begrudgingly agreed to hear the environmental club’s requests.

When I turned around, I finally looked at my protector—really looked at him.

And there he was. Jim Devlin. Those piercing blue eyes. .. I couldn’t believe it.”

Elizabeth let out a dramatic sigh. “Please tell me this is like a Hallmark movie, and you two started dating right away.”

“What’s a Hallmark movie?” Ritah asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Elizabeth gasped. “Oh, girl, it’s like reading a romance novel—only you’re watching it instead. Handsome guy, beautiful girl, and no matter how crazy things get in the middle, you know they’ll end up together.”

“That sounds amazing,” Prossy said, her shy smile brightening.

The laughter that followed filled the room, a lightness Mia hadn’t realized she needed. But even as her friends’ mirth bubbled around her, she felt the familiar weight pressing against her chest. The more she spoke, the harder it became to contain the ache swelling inside her.

She took another sip of wine, her smile bittersweet. “The truth is, it was a lot messier than a Hallmark movie. But at the time, I thought maybe we were that kind of love story.”

Her voice trailed off, and her friends exchanged glances, their expressions softening. They didn’t press her, seeming to sense there was more to the story and knowing she would share it when she was ready.

For now, Mia held on to the comfort of their company, grateful for the distraction as her heart wrestled with the ghosts of the past.

“We started dating, and we didn’t stop for almost ten years,” Mia said, her voice soft but steady.

The women gasped again, but none of them spoke, their silence urging her to continue.

“We never broke up during that time,” she said, her gaze dropping to the empty cup of wine in her hands.

“Sure, we had our arguments, like any couple, but we grew up together.

He graduated a year ahead of me, but we kept dating.

When it came time to choose a college, I picked the same one.

Not just because of him but because they had the program I wanted.

“I worked hard, taking extra classes while he studied and played football, so we graduated at the same time. Then I went straight into a master’s program, and he joined the military.

He wanted to become a SEAL, and I wanted to save the world.

For me, that meant getting my master’s in public health.

We were both chasing dreams, but we were also making plans.

Marriage, kids, growing old together... we had it all mapped out. ”

Her voice cracked slightly, and she stopped, staring into her cup.

“What happened?” Prossy’s whispered question was almost drowned out by the stillness of the room.

Mia drew in a long breath, letting the memories wash over her.

They came like flashes—fragments of a life she’d once believed was unshakable.

Shared smiles. Sweet kisses. Fierce hugs.

Nights tangled together in the dark. Lying in bed, his arm heavy and protective around her waist. Dancing under the stars and laughing until their sides ached.

She shook her head slowly. “We were in love… until we weren’t.”

The weight of her words settled over the room, and no one dared to speak. The silence felt both comforting and suffocating, but she pushed forward, the words tumbling out even as they tore at her.

“Something changed after one of his missions,” she said quietly.

“When he came back, he seemed… lost. He couldn’t—or wouldn’t—talk about it.

He was distant. I didn’t know how to reach him.

By then, I was almost finished with my master’s and looking at job opportunities.

We knew we’d face challenges with our chosen careers, but other families managed, so why couldn’t we? ”

She gave a small, bitter laugh, the sound devoid of humor.

“But he started saying things like, ‘You should take whatever job you want. Don’t stay back for me.’ When I asked about his missions, he’d just grimace and say he couldn’t talk about it.

I thought it was a phase. I thought our love could conquer anything, everything.

But looking back, I can see now that he was pulling away.

“It became a dance. He’d step back, and I’d step forward, trying to fill the space between us. But then one day, he stepped back, and instead of me following, I was shoved so far away I couldn’t close the gap.”

Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice even. “It was the morning I returned from a monthlong work trip to Haiti. When I walked into our apartment… there was a woman in our bed.”

Another collective gasp rippled through the room, but Mia didn’t lift her eyes to meet theirs. She didn’t want to see the shock or, worse, the pity.

“He wasn’t in the bed with her, but she wasn’t wearing anything,” she continued, her voice flat, as though that would make it easier to say.

“Barely covered by the sheet. And all I could do was stand there, stunned. The shower was running, but it might as well have been thunder with how loud my pulse roared in my ears. And then it turned off.”

She paused, her lips pressing into a thin line as the memory hit her again, sharp as a blade.

“He walked out of the bathroom, a towel slung around his hips. He looked at me, then at her, then back at me. She was sitting up by then, pulling the sheet tighter around herself, her eyes darting between us.”

“What did he say?” Ritah asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Mia let out a shaky breath. “Nothing. Not one word. He just… stared. For a split second, I thought I saw something in his eyes— maybe regret or pain. But then it was gone. His eyes went blank, like I was just someone he used to know. My heart was breaking, and all I could do was whisper that I’d come by later to get my things, and I didn’t want him there when I did. ”

The room fell deathly silent, her words pressing down on everyone.

“And he still didn’t say anything?” Karen asked softly.

“No.” Mia shook her head, her voice tight with the effort of holding it together. “A few hours later, I went back. The apartment was empty. He wasn’t there to try to explain or deny it or even apologize. He didn’t leave a note. Nothing.

“I called a couple of friends, and we packed up everything that was mine. When I walked out, I left the key on the kitchen counter. And that was it.”

She looked up at her friends then, her expression one of quiet resignation. “Other than a plain apology letter, I never saw him or heard from him again. Until today.”

The air in the room felt thick, heavy with the weight of her confession. For a long moment, no one said anything, and Mia let herself breathe, letting the ache in her chest settle.