Page 3 of What I Should Have Felt (Anchors and Eagles #4)

“Ford, it’s been fifteen years, we don’t need to argue about this. Let me just—”

“And there you go.” I threw my hands in the air. “Doing what you always fucking do.”

“Which is?” She straightened her posture and glared up at me.

“Deflecting. You always did that whenever you were faced with a tough choice.”

“And you always ran.” She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. “In the end, when it mattered most, you ran. ”

“Because you would’ve never chosen me,” I yelled, confessing one of my deepest secrets I’d never accepted.

The room stilled. The sun’s rays sharpened into daggers of ice as her chest rose and fell rapidly with mine.

“Because you would’ve never chosen me,” I stated again.

I’d never admitted those words out loud before, to anyone.

Not even to myself. But I’d known, in the end she would’ve picked her family.

I wouldn’t have blamed her for it either.

That was the easier choice. The more sensible one.

Another man would come along. Another man had probably already come along.

“You didn’t choose me, either,” she replied quietly.

All I’d ever done was choose her. Everything I’d done had been for her, to make sure she had the life she deserved.

Leaving her had been the hardest thing I’d ever done.

It still was. Every tour overseas, every time I’d squeezed that trigger with a live target on the other end had been easier than walking away from her.

Knowing that I may end up six feet under every time I got those orders hadn’t terrified me the way I’d been when I had to leave her.

But I simply offered her a tight smile and stumbled back into the chair. There were no words I could say that would change what I’d done and how much I’d hurt her.

And it was clear that fifteen years hadn’t extinguished any lasting flames of anger. At least all that time hadn’t brought about awkward conversation as if we were strangers—even if that was what we technically were now.

Colette silently knelt down in front of me again, snapped some plastic gloves on her hands, and slid some medical-grade scissors through the cut in my pants. The fabric sheared with each snip of the metal, and a faint coat of red speckled against the blades.

“Don’t look at this, I know how you get.” She placed a piece of gauze over the seeping wound and waited for me to pull my gaze away from her.

Inhaling deeply, I ignored the need to confess every last burning desire for her. “So, you did it. You became a doctor after all,” I said as she finished widening the opening to expose my cut.

“Sounds like you doubted me,” she replied, a little more lighthearted than a moment ago.

Leaning back once again, I stared at the ceiling as she began tending to the wound. “Never, Cher. Just surprised you’re still here.”

Something cool slid across the edge of the wound. “Somebody had to take care of this community.”

“What happened to Doc? I mean, he was the only one around these parts our entire life,” I asked, ignoring her jab at me. A well-deserved one.

“Same as almost everyone else. This billionaire realtor guy showed up, offered him a chunk of money he couldn’t refuse, so he retired.

Not before Doc negotiated to make sure I came with the clinic he sold to the guy so while he can’t fire me, he can attempt to run me out.

So now, I hardly have any patients after the fucking asshole hired a new doctor as my ‘partner.’” The sound of plastic ripping filled the empty space as I slid my tongue across my lips.

She shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble on about shit that you don’t care about. ”

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to get out of here like you’d wanted,” I quietly replied, ignoring the sting of her words .

She scoffed. “I don’t have anything to numb you up, so I hope your pain tolerance has grown since you left.”

“Mrs. Dupre says that it’s just your family and mine who haven’t sold to this bigwig rich asshole,” I continued, once again ignoring her sharp comment.

“And you care why? So you can feel like you did something good swooping in at the last minute to save the day?” A needle pierced through my skin as I slowly closed my eyes and faked a wince.

“Cher, I’m not trying to swoop in.”

She worked the needle to the other side of the wound, and metal clicked gently against metal as she carefully tied off the first stitch.

“No? Not looking to play hero? So, you’re still the same coward who ran away.

You’re still that soft boy who always needed me to throw the punch, to fight, when it mattered.

You always had to have someone else get their hands dirty for you. You always needed me to keep you safe.”

“I know,” I quietly muttered.

I still needed her. Every day out on that battlefield, I’d needed her. She’d kept my head from going under, and I wasn’t going to pretend like she wasn’t the reason I’d had the chance to come home.

“What’d you say?” she asked as she tied off another stitch.

“I said you’re right,” I replied through gritted teeth, pretending to be in pain, and looked down at her.

Her hands stilled as her mouth fell open. Slowly, her gaze lifted to mine. “You’ve never conceded so easily before. At least not to me in a verbal conversation, which we had a lot growing up.”

“I never thought I’d see you again. ”

Her teeth slid across her bottom lip as she quickly pulled her gaze from me. “Ford, it’s been fifteen years. I have a life that…that hasn’t involved you. I moved on. I just…It’s nice to see you, but just…yeah…” Her voice trailed off as she returned her focus to the stitches.

I should’ve felt something a bit more like heartbreak, but honestly, after fifteen years, after confirming a few years later that she’d ended up safe, I’d prepared myself for this.

Instead, my heart seemed blindly numb. Or at least I pretended it felt that way.

All of the anguish, all of the anger and sadness, I locked away in a little box and shoved it to the corner of my mind—like I did with everything.

It didn’t matter what was going on in the world, or who I had just buried, the pain and grief had to get buried in a small container and pushed to the side.

That was where control existed. That was the only way I didn’t lose myself.

“I hope you’ve been happy, Cher. That’s all I wanted for you,” I admitted cordially while lying to her. I’d seen her. Four years after leaving, I’d returned to see her, to make sure she was safe and protected, and she’d looked happy, so I’d left and planned to never return.

She hadn’t seen me during my brief visit. Which had been on purpose. No one had known I’d come back because there was no need to change the course of everyone else’s lives.

She sucked in a sharp breath of air, sliding the needle through my leg again. “It seems you handle pain a bit better. Only a tiny bit. How many superficial cuts did you get while we were out exploring as kids and you’d wail like a banshee every time?”

A pained smile slid across my face. “Maybe I pretended to be more hurt than usual because it got your attention.”

She clicked her tongue as she tied off another stitch. “So, whose attention have you been vying for these past fifteen years?”

“You say that like you didn’t do the same shit to me,” I replied with a small smirk.

“Fair point. I guess I pretended to be a little clumsy every now and then.” I watched as she tied off the final stitch and sat back against her heels.

Her brows creased together, and she lifted her green eyes from my wound.

“I do recall you used to be a bit squeamish about blood, though. I was the one that had to gut the gators when we needed them for the restaurants.”

I chuckled. “Ah, the famous excuse to spend time together.”

“Remember when Derek nearly caught us literally rocking the boat?” She giggled.

“What was your excuse again when your cousin said he’d go tattle on us?” I cocked a brow as she rolled her eyes and removed the gloves from her hands.

“We don’t need to bring that up again.”

“I didn’t, Cher, you did. But I certainly think about it a lot.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Ford.” She slapped me gently against my good leg and began cleaning up her supplies.

I watched her, still as slender yet strong as when I’d left.

Wearing a simple black tank top and a pair of tight-fitting cargo pants was still her style.

Still as intelligent and commanding. Still my Cherí.

Still the woman who’d had me caving to her every whim.

No, my heart wasn’t numb. No, I was determined more than ever to keep her safe. For her to be mine, even if I knew technically I’d never be able to have her again .

“Where did you go?” she asked, pulling my attention away from her movements.

“Huh?” I knitted my brows together.

“When you left, where’d you go?” She paused and glanced back at me, her medical bag packed.

“Everywhere,” I quietly replied and slid my gaze over her shoulders.

The back wall was nothing but a blank space where a face I missed flashed in front of me.

I’d been able to keep myself preoccupied and busy enough up until now that Duncan wasn’t much of a thought, yet there he was, staring back at me.

“I don’t know why I expected more of an answer. Oh, wait. Maybe because before you left, you used to never shut up around me. Now, I’m suddenly just like every other person in your life who you hardly speak to,” Colette hissed.

I snapped my gaze back to her eyes but remained quiet.

“Really?” She threw her hands in the air and shook her head. “The least you could do is give me some straight, honest answer, instead of just ‘everywhere.’ After fifteen years, you’ve got to have landed somewhere, planted roots. Or what? Have you just been mooching off of people?”

“I gave you the answer I could,” I quietly replied.

“Everywhere? That’s the answer you could give me? So now, you’ve picked up lying on top of giving me the silent treatment?”

“Like you said, it’s been fifteen fucking years, Cher. I’m not lying, and I’m not giving you the silent treatment. I just don’t know what else to tell you.” I leaned forward and placed my palms against my knees, ready to stand .

Her hand shot forward, and she shoved me against my chest. “I can’t believe I ever loved you. I can’t believe I let myself be hurt over you. Some lazy ass who has spent the last fifteen years slumming from one place to another.”

I swallowed stiffly as her first sentence clawed my heart.

She was right. When it came to her, the urge to say anything and everything was still there, but the weight that held all words at bay turned into the knife she’d just stabbed into my soul.

Slumping back into the chair, I simply looked at her.

I wanted to tell her, to argue with her, but the way she’d spoken that first sentence made me hold held my tongue. There was some truth to it.

And I had to accept that.

Her eyes widened, and she crashed back against her heels. “I’m—I didn’t mean it like that,” she whispered.

Slipping my gaze to the wooden floor in front of her, I inhaled deeply and pinched my brows together. “People say shit they don’t mean all the time,” I replied and leaned forward against my elbows. “I get it.”

I heard her slowly gather her things and rise from the floor. Pulling my gaze up to meet hers, I saw something innocent twinkling behind the tears that boiled at the rim of her eyes. “How long are you staying?” she asked.

“Just passing through.”

Lie. I wanted to stay. I wanted nothing more than to finally settle down and have a place of my own. But I lied instead, because I knew that was what she needed. What she wanted.

“Oh,” she quietly said, and her chest expanded with a breath of resignation. Slowly, her lips lifted into a hesitant smile as she locked her gaze with mine again. “Well, uh, keep that wound clean and dry. If you’re still here in a week, let me check it out again.”

Fighting through the pain roaring hot in my heart, I winked. “Looking for an excuse to take my pants off in a week?” I teased and felt the tension slither away like a snake seeking the shade.

Her breath came with a giggle to herself as if lost in a memory that held less pain than this moment did. “You know, the least you could’ve done is gotten ugly or something. Would’ve made it easier to continue to be mad at you,” she grumbled and pursed her lips.

My heart trilled in my chest. “So, you’re saying you forgive me?”

She shook her head as she walked to the entrance. “Absolutely not.” And the door clanged shut behind her.

I grinned to myself and leaned back against the seat.

Determined.