“Micaela,” a melodic yet gruff voice says. “Micaela, you have to wake up, baby.”
Baby? Why is someone calling me baby? And why are they trying to wake me up?
“C’mon, baby, you just have to wake up long enough to feed RJ and then you can go back to sleep.” Those words have me bolting up in my spot. I’m a mom, and I have to feed my baby.
“There she is,” Ryan says, smiling softly. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of black basketball shorts and a gray T-shirt that reads ARMY across the front, his muscular biceps and forearms on display as he holds our son in his arms, like he’s the most precious treasure that needs to be handled with the utmost care. RJ is staring up at his daddy, sucking on his pacifier, hard, like he’s hoping if he sucks hard enough, milk will magically appear. Even though it’s obvious he’s hungry, he still looks content, and I don’t blame him. Ryan has a way of making you feel protected and cherished without even trying.
Before I take RJ from him, I reach over and grab my phone, taking a picture of the two of them. Ryan is glancing down at RJ, love swimming in his gorgeous blue eyes. My heart swells at the sight, but quickly bursts when I remember he’s going to be leaving soon, going back to Afghanistan and risking his life. There’s a chance he won’t return—or if he does, it could be in a body bag.
Just like Ian did…
My thoughts go to the last time I saw him, lying cold and lifeless in the coffin. He wasn’t even in another country risking his life. He was merely training, a routine skydiving session gone wrong—way wrong.
“Unfortunately it happens,” they said, as if they were informing me about the weather instead of telling me my husband was dead.
“Micaela,” Ryan says, snapping me from my thoughts. “Baby, you’re crying.” He reaches over and wipes a tear I didn’t realize was falling.
I look at him and all I can see is Ian postmortem. Ryan might be alive right now, but the chances of him remaining that way are slim, and I have to protect myself, so when he does die, I can be strong for our son. It’s no longer just my heart that’s at risk, but RJ’s as well.
“You okay?” Ryan asks.
“No,” I choke out, taking RJ from him and cradling him to my chest. “I think it’s best if you go home.”
Ryan
It happened so fast. Like, with the quickness of one flicking a switch, she was transported from Vegas to Alaska. She went from warm and vibrant to ice-cold and hard. For a second, I was stunned by her words, confused as fuck. Everything had been going good. We were getting along great—more than great. We were taking care of RJ together. She was even cuddling in bed with me. And then *flick* her entire demeanor changed.
“There’s no reason for you to sleep here. We’re not together and I need my space. You can come and visit,” she says, and it hits me—she’s freaking out. I knew this was coming. Been waiting for it, actually. I spent almost two weeks with Micaela, watched her fight to take a simple step forward. I’ve seen her broken and lost, and I got to watch as she dragged herself step by step until she could walk again. To assume she’s going to be perfect would be ludicrous. She had plans that didn’t include me. It was why I walked away that day. Sure, I called and asked her to join me in Texas a couple months later. That was me being selfish. I missed her like crazy, missed the way I felt around her. But when she said no, I didn’t push because I knew it wasn’t personal. She was protecting her heart.
Which is exactly what she’s doing right now. I don’t know what went through her head just now, but if I had to guess from the tears in her eyes, it was either thoughts of Ian, or of me leaving soon. Whatever it was, it was scary enough to erect that wall she’s built to protect herself.
I should be angry that she’s pushing me away, but the fact that she didn’t include our son has my heart inflating. She’s accepted I’m his dad and not going anywhere, and she isn’t trying to keep me from him—only from her, because even though she can’t protect RJ from getting hurt, she can still protect herself.
I lean over and give RJ a kiss on his forehead. I don’t want to leave, but I’m not about to argue with Micaela. She’s only given birth a few days ago. Her emotions are all over the place, and she’s exhausted. “I love you, little guy,” I whisper to my son before planting a kiss to Micaela’s temple. “If you need anything, I’m only a phone call away. Text me later and let me know when I can spend time with RJ.”
She swallows thickly and nods, refusing to look at me. I take one last look at her and RJ, then reluctantly leave. When I get downstairs, Bella is in the kitchen making herself a protein shake. She doesn’t fight anymore, but she works out and trains other fighters.
“How’s our girl doing?” she asks, taking a sip of her drink.
“She’s having a moment,” I tell her honestly. “She asked me to give her space.”
Bella frowns. “You’re not going to really do that, are you?” When I chuckle, she adds, “You’re good for her. When she returned home, she was almost back to the old Micaela. She had a new plan and was a woman on a mission.”
“She’s stronger than she realizes.”
“She is.” She takes another sip of her drink. “She never mentioned your time together, but I could tell something was different. It was like she wasn’t just healed but changed. Whatever happened between you two stayed with her when she returned.”
I cough into my fist at her words, and her eyes widen, realizing what she just implied. “Not like that!” She laughs. “Well, actually…” She shrugs. “She did come home with a baby in tow.” She mock glares, and I laugh.
“I’d like to say I’m sorry, but have you seen that baby upstairs?” I nod toward the staircase. “There’s not a damn thing I regret about our time together, especially since it gave us him.”
Bella laughs. “I get it. You going home?”
“I think I’m going to head to the Fight Club to get a workout in. Give her some time to get through whatever’s going on in that beautiful head of hers. Can you keep an eye on her? She’s still sore and exhausted.”
She nods. “I can do that.”
“Thanks.”
After going home to see my mom and changing into my workout clothes, I head to the gym. Marco is standing at the front desk when I walk in. We haven’t had a chance to really talk about me and Micaela since I returned. Between everyone arguing and then Micaela going into labor, we’ve been a little preoccupied.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks when I scan my card. I was expecting him to have words, but I didn’t think I would be unwelcome here.
“The last time I checked I’m still a member. If that’s changed just let me know.”
“Whoa.” His hands go up in mock surrender. “That’s not what I meant. Just wondering why you’re here instead of with Micaela and your son.”
“She kicked me out,” I grunt. “Said she needed some space.”
Marco nods. “I was pissed when I found out it was you who got my little girl pregnant.” I have nothing to say, so I wait for him to continue. “Then I blamed myself when I found out where you knocked her up.” He eyes me for a second. “And then I learned you were the reason she was finally living again.”