“You mean the settling-down thing?”
“Yeah.” He sighed through his nose. “Wanting to be a good husband and father. As long as I'm still a SEAL, I could never manage it.”
“What'd Avery think of your plan?” My curiosity was piqued.
“Total agreement. She said she wouldn't want to get serious with someone who'd be gone so often … and might end up gone for good.” Logan shook his head. “She looked upset just at the thought. I felt kind of bad for bringing it up.”
He felt bad? Keeping my face dead blank, I drank a long, slow mouthful of still-blistering coffee, welcoming the burn. I had no idea what to say to that. Hell, I didn't even know what to think. The military was my life; I didn’t want to choose between remaining a SEAL and keeping Avery. With those few words to Logan last night, she might as well have ripped out my guts.
But it made complete sense for her to feel that way. In our first real conversation, she'd said that if she ever had kids, she wouldn't want them to grow up without a mother, like she did. And if she cared about me, she would want to spend a lot of stress-free time together. She wouldn't want to be separated for months on end, lonely and worried sick that I'd come home in a body bag. Of course, if she didn't care about me…
I stood up suddenly, leaving my half-full cup on the table. “Thanks for the coffee. I gotta run now, but I'll see you next Saturday. Usual spot.”
Logan nodded, grunting in acknowledgment. Was he giving me a weird look? Whatever. I didn't really give a fuck right now. I went to the door, then paused and looked back. “I'm trusting you with Avery—for now. But if you hurt her, there won't be enough left of you to identify.”
“I know. I still have your text from last night.” His lips quirked again. “I can read it out loud to myself if I ever forget to fear your vengeful wrath.”
I gave a humorless laugh and left before I smashed something.
I drove back to the condo complex, parked, and headed inside—then stopped and turned toward the beach instead. I told myself a good hard jog would help clear my head, despite knowing it probably wouldn't.
Or maybe the problem was that my head was already clear. No matter how much I thought about it, all signs pointed one way: Avery had no future with me. More precisely, I had nothing to offer her. We would just be stuck in a holding pattern—we'd get a couple months of mind-blowing sex, sure, but then I'd ship out to God knew where for God knew how long. And we would run on that cycle forever, with no chance for either stability or change, until the Navy put me out to pasture. What kind of life was that?
Over the long haul, I just couldn't see anything for us. But it was easy to imagine her and Logan together. He was the objectively smarter choice.
That knowledge sat heavy in my gut like a cold slug of lead. Late last night, or early this morning, I had wondered whether and when and how my chance to set things right would come. But all along, I'd misunderstood what was really at stake here. This moment of truth wasn't about losing Avery or winning her back. This was about her happiness. And if Logan would make her happier than me—be a better man for her—then I had to suck it up. Just let her go.
I turned around and started jogging back home. Now that I had decided to face facts and do what was right, I felt a weird sense of peace. Or maybe it was just hollowness.
Chapter 18
Avery
Nixon's attitude toward me had definitely changed. He was … cooler. Not cold, but not his usual flirtatious self, either. Evidently a few days away had satisfied his appetite for female attention, and he didn’t even attempt to salvage things with me. Apparently whatever we’d had for the five minutes we’d been together wasn’t even worth an after-thought. Or maybe he was moping because he missed Pam already. Things were obviously pretty serious between them, if he was flying to other cities just to spend time with her. So why hadn’t they invoked the exclusivity clause in their relationship? Maybe because Nixon was incapable? Regardless of the reason, Nixon's attention had gradually turned away from me until it disappeared.
As excruciating as it felt, I had to face facts. I’d been nothing but a passing fling for him. A novelty. It really was time for me to move on. Whether or not I wanted to start anything with Logan, the Nixon chapter of my life was over. We'd had good fun, and the sex had been incredible—I had the unpleasant feeling that I'd struggle to meet that standard for the rest of my life—but it was over.
And maybe this was a blessing in disguise. If our relationship had been doomed to fail since the beginning, then it was better to end things before they could’ve gotten serious... Before any more of my heart was bound up in his. The sooner I ripped off this bandage, all in one quick burst of agony, the sooner I could enjoy the air on my skin again.