5. Wynter

CHAPTER 5

WYNTER

“Please, Wynter. Let’s just sit and talk.”

Talk. As if words could undo this mess. As if words could make me unsee the roundness of her stomach, the child she was carrying for someone else.

"I’m leaving.” I grabbed my bag from the floor and walked to the door before she could say another word. She called my name, but I didn’t look back.

This wasn’t the life I’d worked for, sacrificed for. Lisa and I had always planned to start a family once I retired. That was supposed to be our new chapter, the life I thought we were working toward together. So when I handed in my papers, I pictured the moment I’d show up at the door, ready to tell her I was out of the military for good—a surprise for my wife, the start of everything we’d talked about. But instead, I’d walked straight into a nightmare.

After twenty years of service, I’d earned the right to step back and focus on us, on everything we’d promised each other during the long deployments. It was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to make good on the promise I’d made to Royce—to keep an eye on Taran and Rory, to be there for them, too.

I got into the rental car and drove off without a plan. Where was I supposed to go? What could I do? I’d expected to come home, cuddle with my wife, fuck her—it’d been a helluva long time—and then make slow love to her. But that didn’t happen. I didn’t have anywhere else to go to clear my head, so I just drove around for a while.

Finally, I parked near Ridgeway Grocers and stared through the windshield, watching people come and go, all of them moving through the motions of a life I’d wanted for myself—a normal, civilian life, steady and predictable. I had left everything behind, changed everything for this. And now... now I didn’t know what was left.

I looked around at the snow accumulating on the sidewalks. I couldn’t sit here all night. Going back home was out of the question. A hotel? Sure, I could check in somewhere generic, cold, a place meant for passing through.

But then, a thought struck me: Pinecrest Cabins. It was a small place just outside of town. Lisa and I had talked about staying there a few times, mostly just joking about “roughing it” for a weekend. The owner, Bill Lawson, was an old-timer who ran the place with his wife, Edie. He’d always been good to us, never hesitated to invite us out to fish or grill by the lake, though I’d rarely had the time to take him up on it.

That was it. Someplace private, somewhere quiet enough to breathe, to try to make sense of the mess my life had become. A place where I could stay awhile, away from the weight of everything I’d come home to.

I took a breath and got out of the car, stepping into the supermarket just to move, to shake off the numbness settling over me, feeling like a stranger in my own town. A fresh start, I thought bitterly, the words catching like a splinter in my mind.

Maybe at Pinecrest, I could figure out what that even looked like.

What I really needed was a friend I could talk to.

Royce.

But Royce wasn’t around—hadn’t been for a long time. I didn’t have any close friends in the area. The army was my life, and now I’d left it behind, only to realize I didn’t have anyone to start this new life with. I wandered the aisles, confused and feeling more alone than ever. I’d just tossed a six-pack of beers into my basket when I spotted a tall, blond-haired man picking out cartons of milk. Taran?

As always, his beauty hit me in the gut. If he were my man, he’d never do something as hurtful to me as what Lisa did. I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away. “Hey!”

Taran turned, blinking at me, obviously surprised to see me there. His gaze shifted to my basket. “Wynter! What are you doing here?”

“Just picking up a few things.”

He studied me with those expressive eyes, and I could tell he sensed something was off. “Are you alright? Is everything okay at home?”

He’d always been perceptive, and I knew it wouldn’t take him long to figure out that I was struggling. “It’s—I…” I hesitated, then shook my head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. Where’s Rory?”

“I left him at home. I just needed to grab some groceries. Should’ve done it earlier, but the snowstorm threw me off, and I won’t have time during the rest of the week.” He pointed to his full cart. “Anyway, nice to see you. Take care.” He gripped his cart handle, ready to walk away.

I couldn’t bear to let him go. He was the only person in this city I felt comfortable with. I wasn’t ready to talk about Lisa’s betrayal yet, but I could at least chat about normal stuff. I craved his company. But as the conflicting emotions swirled in my mind, I made no move to stop him.

Just then, Taran turned back. “Do you and Lisa want to grab dinner tomorrow? Sort of a welcome home thing?”

Did I?

Probably not the best idea, given that my marriage was in ruins and I was more drawn to him than I should be. But he was just being nice, and I didn’t want to push him away. I ran a hand through my hair. “Lisa wouldn’t be able to make it.”

He didn’t press, but I saw the wheels turning in his mind. He probably sensed something was up. I expected him to walk off, but he surprised me with a smile.

“Just you, then? After my shift at Mabel’s?”

Relief washed over me. I wouldn’t have to spend the evening alone. Of course, I didn’t want anything to happen between us, even if I was attracted to him. All I needed was a friend, someone who didn’t expect me to pretend everything was fine. Talking to Taran felt better than drowning my sorrows in beer. “Sure.”

“There’s a new place a few blocks away, Funky Gourmet. You’ll like it.”

“Pick you up at seven?”

He tilted his head, considering it. “How about we just meet there?” There was no judgment in his voice, just a simple offer.

“Sounds good.”

Taran’s eyes softened, and he gave me a small, encouraging smile. “It’s a nice place. Low-key, but with a good menu. You might even find something you haven’t tried before.”

“Yeah? I’ll hold you to that,” I said, managing a half-grin. His calm presence had already started to lift some of the weight I’d been carrying.

Taran glanced down at my basket before looking back at me.

I felt the weight of the six-pack in the basket, reminding me of the regret and sadness I feel. A slight heaviness settled in my chest and shifted uncomfortably. “So tomorrow, then?”

Taran nodded, his gaze lingering on the basket for a beat, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he just gave me another small, understanding smile. “Take care, Wynter.”

I watched him walk off, feeling a sense of relief. Talking to him hadn’t solved anything, but it had given me something to look forward to. With Taran, there was no pressure. He’d never expect me to play along with some false happiness. And if he’d picked up on my turmoil, he was careful enough not to press.

I glanced at my basket. Suddenly, I didn’t want to get drunk. There were better ways to deal with the mess my life was in. I put the beers back on the shelf and headed out.

As I drove to Pinecrest Cabins, I felt a little less alone. Maybe I should’ve been more open with Taran, but how could I tell him that my wife had shattered my heart? Given my own complicated feelings for him, he was the last person I should talk to about this.