Chapter 46

46

DEAN

S arah left shortly after the situation with her father. I had to stay and finish the training session. I did my best to hide the redness on my jaw. I could already feel it swelling.

The old man still packed a solid punch. I was pretty damn proud of myself for not fighting back. He was my friend and my superior. Despite everything that happened, I still respected him. I didn't like how he talked to his daughter, but I wouldn't attack the man for it.

As I directed the remainder of the training exercise, my mind was elsewhere. Mo had thrown me off balance. His bitter words had stung me just as much as his punch had. I'd spent my life in the military proving myself, working to get where I was and helping others do the same—especially Sarah.

How could he insinuate that I was using her? As if she was a fling. I would never look at her like that. Any woman. I thought Mo knew me. I supposed I understood a little of what Sarah was feeling. His disappointment was no joke. It hurt. I admired and looked up to him.

After the session, I gave the remaining trainees a few pointers and was finally able to leave. When I got back to my duplex, I let myself in and had barely taken a breath when I heard the doorbell.

It was Sarah, wearing a baseball cap with her hair tucked into it. She had on dark sunglasses and was apparently trying to be in disguise. I quickly gestured for her to come in before taking a quick check around to make sure no one noticed.

I locked the door and pulled the blinds closed. "You shouldn't be here," I said.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," she said.

She looked so damn guilty. I hated seeing her like that.

"I'm fine."

"I'm so sorry, Dean," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I've never seen my dad punch anyone before. Let me get some ice for you. Your jaw is already bruising."

I tried to manage a grin despite the pain. "Now I know where you got your right hook from," I grumbled, cursing my sore jaw.

Sarah smiled weakly but didn't laugh. I watched her pull open the freezer in the kitchen. I had a couple of steaks and some frozen veggies. She grabbed the bag of peas and walked to me. "Sit down," she said.

I sat on the couch. She sat down beside me and put the cold bag against my jaw. I winced and pulled back. She said nothing, but I could tell she was worried. I wanted to tell her it would all be okay, that her father would forgive her, but I knew she wouldn't believe me.

"He'll come around, Sarah."

She shook her head. "He always comes around," she said, her voice breaking. "But this feels different. I always go home for a week. My sister and I spend days at the lake with old friends. Mom and I read our books in the shade in the backyard and drink lemonade. And Dad? We go to the air show and the bar together. We talk about flying and who got promoted. But that's not going to happen now. He doesn't even want me there."

I could see she was trying not to cry, and my heart broke for her. This was exactly what I didn't want to happen. Because of me, her relationship with her father was damaged. Maybe even her whole family.

"And now, who knows what he's going to tell the Air Force?" she continued, her voice laced with fear. "What if he tells them everything? What if I get kicked out? What if you get disciplined? Then what will I do?" She kept one hand holding the bag against my jaw and covered her face with her other hand. "How can I go from flying a T6 to a tiny prop plane? Do I have to fly for FedEx?" She looked into my eyes, the realization hitting her hard. "Fuck that. I can't lose my career, Dean. It's my first love. It's who I am."

I could see the writing on the wall. She was choosing the Air Force over me, and I couldn't blame her. I had tried to make the choice for her in London.

Her career was everything to her. Mine was pretty important to me. I didn't think I wanted to lose my career either. Although I was having a hard time feeling as certain about that. Still, I had to make things right, even if it meant letting her go.

"I understand, Sarah," I said softly. "Let me see what I can do in the damage control department. Maybe I can fix this."

She looked at me, her eyes full of hope and despair. "How?" she asked.

I took her hands, squeezing them gently. "First, we have to call it. There's no us. We can't be together."

A tear rolled down her cheek. I cupped her face, wiping it away with my thumb.

"It was a hell of a lot of fun while it lasted," I said, my voice cracking.

She nodded, her eyes full of sadness. I wasn't exactly expecting her to argue with me. We both knew we had tried. It just wasn't in the cards for us. We were a forbidden romance.

"I can't believe he actually showed up," she said. "Am I really doing that bad?"

"Hell no," I said, putting my hand over hers. "You know damn well you're a rock star."

She smiled softly. "Do you have those reports?"

"I do, but you're not going to see them." I grinned.

"They are about me."

"No, they are about my trainee," I told her. "It's part of your personal file. That's where it stays."

"Seriously, am I totally bombing and you just don't want to tell me?"

I shook my head. "Not even a little. You're at the top of the class and you know it."

"I honestly don't know how to make my dad happy." She sighed.

"You don't have to make him happy, Sarah. You just have to be the best version of yourself." I squeezed her hand gently. "You're an extraordinary woman and an outstanding pilot. Your father, he loves you. He's just confused right now. I think he's disappointed in both of us, but since you've got the direct connection, he's taking it out on you."

She shook her head, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'm not sure he loves me anymore, Dean."

"That's not true," I protested. "He's upset, yes, and maybe he's handling it the wrong way, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love you. This is a difficult situation for him to understand. I'm his young protege. He put me in charge of your training because he trusted me. I fucked that up."

"Do you think there is a world where he can understand that what we do out of uniform has zero to do with my ability to fly and your ability to train?" she asked.

I paused, contemplating her question. "There might be," I said cautiously. "But we've crossed lines that shouldn't have been crossed. Your father is a military man through and through, Sarah. He sees everything in black and white, right or wrong. There's no room for gray areas. Your dad is the most respectable, stand-up guy I've ever met."

She bit her lower lip, a habit she had when she was nervous or worried. "But it doesn't have to be that way, Dean. It doesn't have to be black and white."

"I wish the world worked like that, Sarah," I said softly. "But it doesn't. We made choices and now we have to face the consequences."

"I know," she sighed, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on them. "It's just—I thought we could have it all. Our careers, each other. I didn't think it would become this serious."

"That's on me," I admitted. "I should have been more careful. We both knew the risks involved in this, but I guess I just didn't want to believe that we'd actually have to face them."

She looked at me, her eyes welling up with more tears. "So, what now?"

I took a deep breath, taking in her tear-streaked face and the pain etched into her features. "We move forward, Sarah," I said with a reassuring smile. "Separately for now. We'll keep doing our jobs, you'll keep being the top of your class, and we'll try to mend things with your father."

She blinked at me, her lashes heavy with unshed tears. "Separately," she echoed. "And what if I don't want to be separate from you?"

My heart ached at her words, but I forced a firmness into my voice. "It's not about what we want anymore, Sarah. It's about doing what's right."

"But who decides what's right?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Who decides what's right for us?"

I looked at her, saw the pain in her eyes, and felt it as well. " We do," I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat. "We have to think about more than just ourselves. We have to consider the people around us, the consequences our actions might bring upon them. If this thing between us became public, it hurts your father. Not just us. You. Me. Kylee."

She fell silent, her gaze dropping to our entwined hands as she processed my words. "Kylee?"

"She knows."

Her eyes widened. "No! I didn't tell her."

"Maybe not, but she knows, which is kind of how your dad figured it out. She and I were talking when he suddenly appeared."

"Dean, I swear, I did not tell her anything," she said. "I wouldn't do that."

"I think she figured it out." I shrugged. "Which is pretty much what I thought would happen. People just know this shit. Where there's smoke there's fire, and we were setting off alarms left and right."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked, anguished.

"No, Sarah." I sighed heavily. "I am just making it clear that what we do affects more than just us. This has far-reaching implications we can't ignore. We need to be smart about this. Some people would call it chemistry. We have it. It's obvious. Even if we weren't sleeping together people would think we were. It's just one of those things."

She nodded slowly, taking a deep breath before she spoke again. "So, what's our plan then?"

"We continue doing our jobs," I replied firmly. "We prove to everyone that this doesn't affect our ability to perform. We prove to your father that our personal lives have no bearing on our professional ones. We play by the rules now."

She looked at me, her eyes filled with sadness and regret. "And if that doesn't work?" she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

"We have to make it work," I replied. "You and I both knew this was inevitable. If we were different people with different jobs and different everything, this might work. But we are who we are. We are committed to the military. This is the life we chose. Neither of us is about to take a dishonorable discharge from the military. Flying is in our blood. So, there's us or our whole damn lives."

A long silence fell between us as we stared at each other. Sarah's hand was cold in mine, and it trembled slightly. The reality of what we had decided, of the sacrifices we had to make was very real. I knew this was the last time I got to have this quiet time with her.

It was over.