“Really?” I couldn’t believe that. “You’ve been mad about being on shore duty since we met.”
“You should eat something.” He pulled out a chair for me and pointed at it.
My head swam. I had no idea what to make of him caring about my hunger level in the middle of an argument as it was outside of my realm of experience, where fights were typically louder with more pouting and personal attacks. This was downright civilized, but I wasn’t sure I trusted his motives.
“Don’t change the subject.” Oops. There went some of my professional tone. I sat down in part to try to bring my voice back to even. “Something happened to make you feel better about this choice.”
“Well, I got happy. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but you did have something to do with that.” Calder too sounded like he was working at not snapping. He divided up the food on the plates the place had provided. “I realized I could be as happy and fulfilled away from the sub as I was on it.”
“Happy is good,” I whispered. My traitorous heart thrilled to know I made him happy even as my stomach twisted. Making him happy also meant the power to make him unhappy, a responsibility I wasn’t sure I wanted.
“This training opportunity is a great chance to meet my goal of making senior chief before I hit my twenty years. It’s the sort of advancement and opportunity I’ve wanted.” He paused to place a plate of food in front of me. “I did, however, have to let go of my attachment to being deployed.”
“I don’t want to be the reason you made peace with that,” I said as he sat next to me.
“Sorry. I’m not going to lie. You showed me I can love other things as much as I love being deployed.”
All he had to do was hint at the L-word and my pulse sped up. I made a pained noise and shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.
“Don’t look so horrified. That’s not a bad thing. It’s a win-win. I can get the career advancement and I can have a relationship that matters to me. I’m not going to apologize for having feelings for you.”
Much as I liked hearing about those feelings, I frowned because I wasn’t sure I wanted to be another win for him, a way to maximize benefits from a tough decision.
“I’m not asking you to apologize. I care about you too.” I might be frustrated and conflicted, but I couldn’t let him think all those emotions of his were one-sided. He deserved that much honesty from me. “And because I care, I don’t want you sacrificing anything for me.”
After finishing a bite of food, he shrugged. “Every relationship involves some amount of sacrifice.”
“Exactly. And most fail.” Still not eating myself, I gestured with my plastic fork.
“And some don’t.” He sounded awfully pragmatic for the guy that a couple of short months ago had been rather resolute that relationships were a bad bet he wanted no part of. “My parents made it work. Your grandparents did too. It’s not always doomed. Maybe sometimes it’s worth it.”
My heart swelled with the memory of my grandparents taking long walks together right up until the end. There was a time when I’d wanted that kind of love for myself in the worst way, but now I wasn’t sure that kind of relationship was possible. Trying for something with terrible odds was the sort of foolishness I couldn’t afford. “And other times sacrifice breeds resentment and hastens the inevitable end.”
“You keep assuming that I’m going to bolt at some point. Give me a chance.” Leaning toward me, he took my hand.
“It’s not about only me.” My throat was raw and scratchy and his hand felt too damn good against mine. “I have to think about the girls too. I can’t have them getting attached and then disappointed when we break up. And it goes the other way too. I have to put them first, and that’s not fair to you. Eventually you’re going to be disappointed and want a situation where your needs can be top priority.”
Grimacing, he dropped my hand. “I’m not Tim.”
“I know that.” I felt the loss of his touch on a visceral level.
“I’m not sure you do.” For the first time in this long conversation, he sounded genuinely angry. “You think I’m so selfish that I can’t understand your commitment to the kids. And you assume I’d ghost on them too if things went south between us. You’re so worried about the chance that I’m going to turn into Tim that you don’t want to give us a chance to be different.”
“I know you’re not Tim. And you have a tremendous amount to give a potential relationship. So much.” I started out with a patient tone, but the facade dropped as an image of Calder with another person blared in my head. My voice wavered to an embarrassing degree. “But I don’t know if I can give you what you need in return. A relationship is a risk I simply can’t take right now.”
“Bullshit.” His eyes hardened right along with his voice. “You know perfectly well that you have plenty to give me. You care. You show it all the damn time. What you are is scared.”
He wasn’t wrong, but I couldn’t admit that. “Maybe I’m worried—”
“You’re scared and it’s okay. I’m scared too. But maybe we can be scared together?”
All my oxygen escaped all at once. His expression was as vulnerable as I’d ever seen it. My throat had never been this tight in my life either. “I—”
Buzz. Buzz. Right then at the worst possible moment, my phone vibrated nosily in my pocket, clanging against my keys and utterly paralyzing me. Calder, however, simply sat back and gestured at my lap.
“Check your phone. I’m not going anywhere.” How he could be so calm and patient when I felt ten cups of espresso worth of jittery was beyond me. Maybe he was that certain of the outcome of the conversation. Must be nice. Myself, I had no clue, didn’t even know what I’d been about to say.
And looking at my phone was as good a stalling tactic as any. But then I had to groan as soon as I saw the message.
“Crap. It’s Gabrielle. She’s bringing the girls back because Madeline threw up all over her car before they even made it to pizza. And now Charlotte doesn’t feel well either.” Food and conversation forgotten, I pushed away from the table, mind already racing ahead to how to manage this new crisis.
“What can I do to help?” Calder asked as the front door sounded.
“You don’t need to stay for this.” My evening had gone from terrible to even worse, but maybe his was still salvageable. He could go to the poker party, leave me to deal with this latest disaster. That would probably be best even if it did make my chest hurt cardiac-event levels of bad. My heart might not survive Calder, but the rest of me would have to go on.