Chapter 26

26

DEAN

I walked into the bar with a feeling of dread. Mo had called me earlier and asked me to meet him for a drink. I thought he had already gone back to Colorado. I wasn't sure how I was going to face the man. How was I going to look him in the eyes?

I felt like a liar and a fraud. When he called, the guilt had nearly been my undoing. I was convinced he knew. He knew I fucked his daughter and he wanted to meet me to kick my ass.

Mo was sitting down already, a drink in front of him. I couldn't tell if it was a straight Coke or a Jack and Coke. "Dean," he said when he saw me. He got to his feet and shook my hand. That was a good sign.

I took a seat and gestured for Jude to bring me a Coke as well. I had a feeling I wanted to keep my wits about me for this one.

"How's it going?" I asked him, attempting to feel out the situation.

"Good." He nodded. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you to Washington. I really hoped I could have you there on standby."

Mo had tried to pull strings to get me to Washington for Sarah's survival training, but it hadn't worked. I was stuck here, in Columbus, pretending everything was fine. I knew he was worried about her. I wasn't sure what he thought I was going to do. I had a feeling I was his surrogate. He wanted me there in case something went wrong. It didn't happen often, but sometimes there were real injuries.

If Mo was pacing the base like a worried papa, it wouldn't do her any good. And it would take away from his status as a general. People would see he did have a weak spot. He had to keep his personal and professional life separate. I knew it was killing him to treat her as just another airman.

"No worries," I told him. "I've been spending some time with some of the other pilots. Have you heard from her?"

"No." Mo took a long swig of his drink and sighed heavily. "She's tough but survival training wreaks havoc on even the best of us. It nearly killed me."

I nodded, memories of my own survival training flashing through my mind. The sleep deprivation, the hunger, the constant stress. It was designed to simulate real-life scenarios where you might be captured and tortured. I remembered feeling loopy from the lack of sleep, almost cracking during the simulated interrogation.

A lot of my friends washed out. I'd tried everything I could to help them, but it was a solo endeavor. You had to get through it alone.

"I know," I said, my voice steady. "It's brutal. But I've been watching her for weeks. She stands out. She's skilled, intelligent, and, most importantly, an excellent problem solver. She has grit, Mo. She'll get through it. That woman doesn't know how to quit. Trust me, I've watched her puke while running. She does not stop."

Mo sighed again, rubbing his temples. "I know she's impressive. But she's also my baby. I'd give up anything and everything for her. I just wish I could help her with this part."

My gut twisted. He didn't know the half of it. I was supposed to be the one looking out for her, but instead, I'd crossed lines I never should have. "She's stronger than you think," I said, trying to push the guilt aside. "She's going to get battered and bruised and I would be willing to bet she's going to laugh in the faces of those that try to break her."

Mo gave a tight chuckle. "That's my Sarah, alright. Stubborn and tenacious. You know, she's a lot like her mother." He raised his glass toward me in acknowledgement. I could see something in his eyes, a mix of vulnerability and pride.

"I think she believes she's more like you," I replied.

"Oh, I've got the grit and determination, but she gets that stubborn streak from her mother."

It felt surreal sitting across from Mo, talking about Sarah. I just kept thinking about what he would do if he knew what had happened between us. He sure as hell wouldn't be sitting down and having a drink with me.

Mo looked at me, his eyes filled with worry. "Do you know what's on the program today? What Sarah might be doing?"

I hesitated before answering. I knew he wasn't going to like the answer. "Capture evasion," I said evenly.

Mo paled. "Right."

The silence between us stretched out. I could see the pain in his eyes, the fear. He was trying to be strong, but it was killing him not to be able to protect her. After a moment, he shook his head and changed the subject. "How's the bar doing?"

I welcomed the shift, needing to get my mind off Sarah and the guilt gnawing at me. "It's good," I said. "Busy as ever. Jude's been a big help. He runs the place. I pop in once in a while."

Mo nodded, though I could see his thoughts were still on Sarah. "Good, good. You two have built something solid here."

I smiled, though it felt forced. "Yeah, we have. It's been a lot of work, but it's worth it."

Mo's phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. "Sorry, I need to take this," he said, standing up and stepping outside to answer the call.

I watched him go, feeling a pang of guilt. Here he was, worried sick about his daughter, while I was keeping secrets from him. Secrets that could ruin everything.

Jude wandered over, bringing me the drink I was about to ask for. He put it down in front of me. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, leaning against the bar.

"Mo's worried about Sarah," I said, not meeting his gaze.

Jude nodded. "Can't blame him. Survival training is no joke."

"No, it's not," I agreed, my mind drifting back to those grueling days. "But she's a beast. She'll make it through."

Jude studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, she will. And so will you."

I looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "You're carrying a lot on your shoulders. Sitting here with her old man can't be easy."

"No, it isn't," I sighed. "I feel like the biggest asshole that ever walked the face of the earth."

Jude chuckled. "Nah, I think there are plenty of bigger assholes."

He walked away just as Mo came back in, looking slightly more composed. "Sorry about that," he said, sitting back down. "Work stuff."

"No problem," I said. "Everything okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, just some logistics to sort out. So, how have things been since the divorce was finalized?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Quieter," I said. "More peaceful. Not having her constantly bombarding me or blasting me on social media is a relief."

Mo nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Dean. I know it wasn't easy for you."

I shrugged, trying to push the memories away. "I disappointed her," I admitted. "The military life wasn't what she wanted. But I still don't understand how and where it all went so sour. We used to talk about having a family. Now, I can't even connect to that guy I used to be. I was different. She was different, but if you ask her, I transformed into a world-class asshole, and she was the perfect little wife."

Mo's expression softened. "It'll settle, Dean," he said reassuringly. "You'll meet someone who reminds you why you wanted all those things."

I shook my head. "I'm not so sure I want them anymore," I confessed. "I think I just talked myself into wanting them to make her happy. She was the one who saw us living in a giant house. I think she expected me to jump out of the Air Force and into some cushy job making big bucks. I don't think I ever led her to believe that, but she did."

Mo leaned back in his chair, considering my words. "Being a military man and having children and a wife isn't easy," he said, his voice serious. "But it's been my biggest accomplishment in life, and I wouldn't change a thing."

I studied him for a moment. The respect and admiration I felt for him was immense. Mo had always been a role model for me, not just as a military officer but as a husband and father. "You've done well, Mo," I said sincerely. "But I think you are one of the few who managed to make it work. The statistics are not in our favor. Some of us are married to the military. Few women want to play second fiddle to such a demanding mistress."

Mo pondered this for a moment, taking a long sip of his drink before setting it back down. "I won't say it's easy, Dean," he admitted. "And you're right. There are a lot of marriages that don't withstand the pressures of the military life. But sometimes, I believe it's more about the people involved than the circumstances themselves."

I frowned, taking a swig from my own glass, letting the bitter liquid burn its way down my throat. "You mean some people are just not cut out for it?"

Mo nodded. "Yes, I do. And maybe—" He paused, searching for the right words. "Maybe she wasn't cut out for it," he finished.

"Maybe you're right," I admitted, staring into the dark abyss of my drink as if it held all the answers.

"But it's not just about her, is it?" Mo asked, a knowing tone lacing his voice. "It's also about what you want, who you are."

"What do you mean?" I looked at him, waiting for him to tell me what was wrong with me.

He leaned forward, his gaze steady. "You've always been more dedicated to the military than anything else. You're a soldier through and through. Perhaps deep down, you weren't ready for the family life she wanted, not just yet. And there's no fault in that, Dean. It's good you knew what you wanted. It could have been so much worse if you had children when your relationship wasn't ready for that kind of thing."

I nodded slowly. There was so much truth in what he was saying, but it wasn't easy to accept. "I really thought I loved her."

"I know," he said gently. "I'm sure you did. But military spouses are a different breed. I didn't know her well and I don't want to say anything bad about her, but Margaret wasn't the right one. You'll find the right one. You'll figure it out. Sometimes things don't go the way we planned, but that doesn't mean we can't find happiness."

I nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I hope so."

We chatted a bit longer. My guilt wasn't any better. If anything, I felt worse. Here he was, giving me excellent advice, and I was not being honest with him.

Eventually, Mo glanced at his watch. "I should probably get going," he said regretfully. "I've got an early start tomorrow."

"Of course," I said, standing up. "Thanks for coming by Mo. It was good to see you."

He stood as well, clapping me on the shoulder. "Likewise, Dean. Take care of yourself."

"You too. I'll call if I hear anything about Sarah's training, but I'm sure she'll be fine," I told him.

He smiled. "Me too."

After he left, I went up to the bar where Jude was casually hanging out. "Well?" he asked. "No guns were drawn. I take it you didn't tell him what you got up to with his daughter."

"I did not," I said with a shake of my head. "I'm not sure I ever will."