Never Surrender(7)

They were both strong-willed people, and neither of them backed down when they felt strongly about something. Thankfully, they didn't fight all that often. "Okay, then let's hear it."

"Fine. I want out."

He went still. "Out of what?"

"The Air Force."

What? "I thought we already decided that would be a mistake."

"No, you decided it would be a mistake, and at the time, I was only talking about the possibility of leaving." Her dark eyes speared his, and he was actually glad to see the anger there because it meant they were going to have this out here and now.

Her leaving made absolutely no sense to him whatsoever. "You've worked so hard to get where you are. Now you're saying you want out? To do what?"

Some of the anger faded from her gaze, replaced by a vulnerability she rarely let anyone see, even him. "I don't know, Ryan. That's the problem, and why I tried to talk to you about it before."

"So then why not stay in until you do? Why the huge rush to get out, lose a steady paycheck and benefits?"

"Money's not everything, Ryan."

"Easy for you to say." As soon as the words were out of his mouth he felt like a total dick and wanted to take them back.

To her credit, rather than exploding at him, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking. "Look, I know things were really tight for you when you were growing up, and I realize I had a privileged childhood. But we're both good with our money and we've saved a lot since we've been in. Financially we're fine, even if I take a few months to find another job."

"And while you're doing that, we're going to eat up a good chunk of what we've saved." She didn't understand what it was like to not have money.



       
         
       
        

She hadn't grown up living off canned goods and boxes of mac and cheese every day for months while his dad stretched the finances as far as they could go so he could still cover his monthly alimony payments and the mortgage.

She'd spent her summers at a beach house in Cape Cod, while the highlight of his summers was the single trip to the ice cream shop he'd made with his dad on Labor Day each year.

He'd be damned if he allowed them to struggle like that, even for a day.

"We need to be smart about this, save for the future, because you said you want to stay home for the first few years if we have kids." Yeah, her family was filthy rich and would probably help them out if things got tight, but he'd rather die than take a handout from them. Something she knew perfectly well and thus far had respected.

"I do, but you're not hearing me. I want out, and I've made the decision to leave as soon as my contract's done. I've already sent in the paperwork."

He put his hands on his hips. "So I get no say in this at all?" Not that he was a marriage expert by any means, but weren't decisions like that supposed to be made together?

"Sure you get a say, but that doesn't mean you get to decide what I do with the rest of my life." He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. "I also want to have kids before I hit thirty-five, which isn't too far away. And I have to admit, the idea of being a single mom while you serve continual combat deployments overseas doesn't sound so awesome either."

He blinked. "What does that mean? You want me to get out too?"

"No," she said, frustration clear in her voice.

Her whole argument made no sense to him at all. It wasn't logical. "Then what? Why do you want out so bad?"

"Because I can't do this anymore, okay? I can't." Guilt punched through him at the tremor in her voice. She was one of the strongest people he'd ever known, so seeing her this upset took him off guard.

"Do what?" he asked, not understanding why she seemed so emotional about this, but she spun away and ripped the door open before he could stop her.

He rushed out into the hallway after her. Thankfully it was empty. "Candace."

She shook her head and kept going, marching for the elevator, back ramrod straight, head held high. He pushed out a frustrated breath.

Goddamn it. This was bullshit and there was no way he was letting this go until he understood what was going on.

What the hell had she meant? What couldn't she do anymore?

She loved flying the Spectre. She was proud of her job and rightly so, and wanting to leave the Air Force without a clear plan in mind was totally unlike her. He tamped down his irritation and followed her, giving them both a few moments to rein in their tempers. 

She studiously ignored him as the elevator doors shut in front of them. He glanced at her profile, caught the flush in her cheeks and the sheen of moisture in her eyes.

Seeing her on the verge of tears twisted something in his chest. That's why she'd just rushed out of the room, so he wouldn't see her on the verge of breaking down.

Hating her silence and to see her hurting, he lifted a hand and brushed a soft wave of hair off her shoulder. "Hey. Why are you so upset about all this?"

Turning her head, she nailed him with an angry glare. "Because you're being an insensitive, unsupportive jackass."

He snatched his hand back. Wow, okay then. "I'm trying to help us stay stable financially, and planning for down the road. I'm being responsible." Because if she stayed home once they had kids, they were going to burn through their savings pretty fast.

"Yeah, well, if this has been your idea of being helpful and responsible, you can not bother from now on." She folded her arms across her breasts and moved a step away from him. Shutting him out.

It pissed him off, and dammit, it hurt too.

A second later they reached the ground floor and she stormed out of the elevator before the doors had fully opened. Ryan trailed after her, angry and baffled at the same time.

They didn't speak as they walked through the front doors. Out in the bright morning sunshine she turned right and headed across the lawn, taking a deep breath as she shook her hair back over her shoulders.

God, they were going to be at the stables in a matter of minutes and, while he didn't give a shit what other people thought, he didn't want their friends to know they were arguing. Normally she was the one who wanted to hash things out until they were resolved, but now he was the one who couldn't stand to let this go on any longer. Talk about role reversal.

Enough.

He caught up to her in a few strides, wrapped a hand around her elbow, and pulled her around the corner of the building, into a shaded area where they could have at least a little privacy.

Rather than pull away, she faced him with an almost mutinous expression. Thankfully there were no more tears in her eyes. "What?"

He shook his head once. "I don't want to fight."

She shrugged, the motion tight, defensive. "I don't want to fight either, but I can't just pretend everything's fine between us. I'm not built that way."

Yes, he knew. "Okay, then tell me what you meant before. What can't you do anymore?" The deployments? Them being apart all the time?

"The missions. The flying. The lifestyle. Everything."

He blinked in surprise. "But you love flying."

She shook her head, more hurt bleeding into her expression. "Sometimes I feel like you don't understand me or listen to me at all."

He frowned. "Of course I listen to you." But she was going to need to spell this out for him because clearly he didn't understand.

"No, you don't, because I've already tried to explain this to you. I used to love flying. But not since that mission out there with you. I'm done. I want out, only I don't know what to do after that, and for months I've been on my own in D.C., flailing, trying to figure it all out while you're overseas, and when I do turn to you for support and advice, I get told to suck it up and stay in. Like you don't give a shit about my feelings." She blinked fast, her eyes filling with tears, and it slayed him.

What? "I never told you to suck it up."

"Pretty much. You told me what to do instead of listening and caring about how I felt."



       
         
       
        

Had he? After thinking about that for a moment, he realized that yeah, maybe he kind of had, but he hadn't meant to be insensitive. Now he felt bad for the way he'd handled this. "I didn't know it was this bad for you. Do you need to talk to someone again? About what happened?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't need therapy or a shrink to fix me, Ryan. What I'm going through is completely normal."

"Okay."

She pulled in a deep breath. "I've served my country and I'm proud of that. Proud of my service. I'm strong, I've dealt with a lot, but I need a change, and even if I don't know what that looks like yet, I expected you to at least try to understand and be supportive."

The accusation in her eyes made him wince internally.

"You make me feel completely alone, like you don't care about my feelings or what I'm going through. Do you know what that's like? To not be able to depend on the person you love the most?"

Her words slashed at him like knives. God, he'd had no idea she felt this way.

Those dark eyes held his, unflinching. "When we were trapped out in those mountains, I knew you had my back. I knew you'd do whatever it took to get me out of there. And I've been nothing but supportive of you and your career. But now, when I'm struggling and needed you, I feel like you weren't there for me-and it had nothing to do with you being overseas.