"The hardest job in the world is the wife left behind. It's one thing to be in the thick of a fight-it's something completely different to wait at home wondering how it ends. You know this. I've never wanted to put someone in that position, other than Cara and my mother who had no choice because I am who I am."
"Are you going back?"
He grabs his thigh and rubs. "I honestly don't know. There's a good possibility I wouldn't pass the physical fitness test even if I wanted to. My leg . . ." His voice dies off as tears cloud his vision. "And it wouldn't be the same."
"Justin?"
He nods, and the baby makes his presence known, or rather my stomach does in a deep pull along my sides. I close my eyes and breathe through the ache in the kind of staccato vibration they taught me in Lamaze.
Caden perches above me on outstretched arms, scanning my face, my chest, my stomach, the bare length of my legs and back up. "How often has that happened today?"
"It hasn't. Not like this."
"Come on." He springs to his feet, his hands reaching to help me up. "I've got to get you out of here."
His fingers don't let go when I'm standing-they're held straight and tight to his thighs. We both look down to where we were, and to Gus as he sniffs around Justin's headstone etched with dates and his commitment to his country and me. After a minute, and because Caden seems to need another one, I lay my forehead against his chest and breathe in his unique scent-clean sweat, musk, and maleness. He lays his cheek on my hair, and we stand long enough that another twinge tightens around me. But I stay still, enjoying a moment, a good one where the crushing weight of loneliness evaporates.
"I don't know how to move beyond his death," he whispers.
"Oh, Caden." I look up only to be overcome by his sorrow. "It's only goodbye for now. We'll keep him alive with our memories and then one day, we'll be together again. I have to believe that."
He shakes his head, his features crumbling. "You don't understand. It's my fault, Piper."
"No." I reach to cup his cheek as the first tear falls over his lid. "No, it's not. Don't do that to yourself."
"I talked him in to enlisting twelve years ago. And then I convinced him to extend his contract. He'd have stayed with you if I didn't ask-I own his death. It's on my hands."
"Stop it." I pinch his chin, compelling him to focus on my face.
Bending toward me, his breath hitches on a sob and my heart breaks. "Justin would be here if I hadn't asked him to stay with me." He presses the words into my forehead as his tears slide to my cheeks. "I think about the split second he was hit all the fucking time. The crack of the shot, his knees hitting the ground. All the time, Piper-it's beating up my mind, but I can't change our course. I can't fucking stop it from happening."
I fight to capture his gaze, to force him to see the truth within my eyes. I don't blame him. But he holds tight. He tucks his head into my neck, silent and shaking. Minutes pass before he drags up to mumble unintelligible words into my hair, and only when he's ready does he pull on it, freeing my face to search his. So much pain, so much sadness washes through him. His leg buckles as a moan escapes his mouth.
"Please forgive me," he murmurs, drawing out my grief through tears I had yet to cry. He kisses me everywhere-cheeks, chin, forehead, and down to my ear, mixing his sadness with my own. A storm surges up and out of my chest, angry and consuming. Justin. I pound Caden's chest, wrestle his shirt into my fist and let him hold my sagging frame. And he does, so tight I have nowhere to go. We weep through his guilt, what we've lost, and into the forgiveness he so desperately needs.
Caden finds my eyes, never breaking contact as he bends with his lips hovering over mine. "I'm sorry, please," he begs, staring into me. Hard and desperate, his gaze penetrates through my grief and into something new. I shift in his arms and the slightest movement alters our axis. His lids flare for a moment, and then he presses his mouth to my own.
Is it possible for something to be right and wrong at the same time? This, God, this feels so good. Like unspoken words expressed in a rush of breath and weighted meaning. I know him. I know his thoughts and fears, and I pull him impossibly closer to soothe his ache and to ease mine. His tongue slips between my lips and he's fierce, demanding as he licks and bites into me until I'm drunk on feeling. I match his movements, his groan, the tug of hands in hair. Our hearts break and with the same emotion that destroyed us, we pick each other up and rebuild.