Page 65 of Severed Heart

“And what is your plan?”

“To take on the US military.”

An hour later, I’m in the know, more so than Dom and Sean, and make peace with it while standing across the street from my best friend’s house, peering into the living room. My throat burns as I gaze upon Delphine in her recliner. The ache and need to go to her intensifying as I recall the details of the last few letters I read.

He blames me for the baby and tells me God knew I would be a horrible mother . . .

He’s raping me now, Celine . . .

Last night, he forced me to sleep on the porch in the snow . . .

I am poison to the men I love . . .

As she fills her glass, like my father, I know that she’s mentally in a place I can’t get to. Everything inside me wants to be who she reaches for now as my heart fills with the truth.

I’m falling for her, and chances are I’ll never openly be able to express it. It’s likely I’ll never get the fucking chance to try to become the man she reaches for. Or be able to battle the poison that numbs the wounds inside her that continue to fester. Wounds that keep her in the vicious cycle of slow self-implosion, right along with my dad. Love can’t heal those deep-etched scars away.

Or can it?

Thanks to my idiotic fucking heart and its fixation, I may never get the luxury of finding out. But I can be there for her. Even if it leads to some personal detriment.

But it’s the broken areas where we share our most common ground, and it’s there that maybe we’ll find a place—together. It’s then my mom’s earlier words about timing resonate the most, and I make peace with it.

“Mindset and stamina,” I mumble before turning on my heels and pressing off against the concrete. I run a mile, then two, reaching ten and pushing forward. The ache not abating a single second as I envision a man capable of taking on that battle, setting my sights on a man with an iron will and unbreakable resolve. Who backs his promises and camouflages his own pain. A man that will break the cycle, break the fucking mold.

A man to reach for.

To entrust.

A man that will be me.

And the only fucking man for her.

Chapter Twenty-One

DELPHINE

AFTER MAKING MYmove, I glance over at Tyler, who staresthroughhis dwindling battalion, showing no signs of animation. Typically capable of concealing any despair, I can’t help but recognize the thinly veiled sting in the beautiful soul sitting across from me. Unable to handle any more of his radiating, silent pain, I force him to speak.

“Soldier,” I whisper in a slight scold, “you just lost four men and are about to lose more.”

His lifeless eyes snap to mine. “Shit, yeah.” He exhales heavily, glancing down at his newly weakened formation. “Sorry.”

When he makes a counter move, I make my own. “You just lost twelve more men with your absence of mind. Apologize tothemand to the families that will mourn them.”

“I . . .” He shifts in his seat. “My head’s not in it today.”

“No need to point obvious to me.” His lips lift slightly, letting me know I misspoke another metaphor. “You must realize this is the whole point?” I ask. “To put aside all else. This will not be a convenience you have in any battle or on any day in your Marines. That is”—I position a soldier while giving him a pointed look—“if you’re still imbecile enough to sign up foranother man’sarmy.”

“Counting down the days.” He lifelessly returns fire, unwilling to spar with me in our ongoing fight. It’s been our only real battle thus far—one I am determined to win. But seeing the defeat in him today, I decide against making his distracting pain any more of a teaching moment.

“Fine, we can resume our game later,” I relay as my eyes catch on the filtering rays that start to cascade through the living room window. A notion strikes as I glance back over to Tyler, who stares intently at one of his soldiers, seeming to search the plastic figure for what answers he seeks.

“The day is still very young. Maybe—” I again glance toward the brightening window before making my request. “Will you maybe consider ... taking me to fish?”

His face animates instantly in confusion at my suggestion, and I chortle at his reaction. “Sean and Dom say your family has land and that you fish there.”

“Not so much lately, but yeah, there’s a catfish pond.”