Emilia

He swallows hard and takes a few seconds as if he’s finding the courage to go on. 

“A little over 18 months ago, my team and I were running a mission just outside Kandahar in Afghanistan. There were eight of us, plus Nero. We didn’t know it at the time, but the intel we received was bad and led straight into an ambush. I was the person in charge, so I took lead and commanded those who could to get themselves to safety. Three of my men made it out, but me, four of the guys and Nero were captured.” 

Captured? 

I can’t help the gasp that escapes me. He must feel the tension rising in my body, for he adjusts his hold to pull me in closer. Nero, who must sense the growing unease, stands from where he slept on the floor to lay his head on Lucas’s knee.

“It’s okay. I’m alright. We’re all alright,” he soothes with a faraway look in his eyes. 

As I process what he’s said, my stomach sinks. I want to believe he is in fact okay, but since those are the same words he uttered that day at the park as he recovered from a panic attack, it’s clear the soothing words are meant more for him than Nero and me.

I could tell from the moment we ran into each other in that grocery store parking lot, he’d been through something terrible. Back then, I assumed the sadness that still shrouds him after all these years was linked to his parent’s death. But, after witnessing his panic attack and now hearing about his capture, a terrifying picture has come to light.

I’ve seen the news stories. The harrowing tales of the things our soldiers endure while fighting for our country. To think of him, the boy I loved, suffering through those circumstances floods my mind with images of the terror he must have endured. The pain. The fear. And to think all the while we were here, living our lives completely unaware of what he was living through on the other side of the world. It tears me up inside and reminds me it was me who failed him. Me, who didn’t do enough to keep him in Ruby Creek where he belonged.

“For 28 days, the guys and I were tortured and beaten. As the team lead, I was deemed more valuable than the others, so I was forced to watch as one by one, three of my brothers were eventually killed. The fourth, Brian, who was Nero’s handler, died from his injuries as I held him in my arms.” His voice breaks suddenly, and his anguish over what transpired is palpable. “I was the only one left when rescue came,” his voice is gruff and unrecognizable. Giving him the space to compose himself, I curl up closer to his side and lay my hand on his chest. 

“I was in such terrible shape that as the medics worked on me, they couldn’t help but voice their shock that I was still alive despite my injuries. At one point, I remember them saying they didn’t think I’d survive medical evac, let alone the extensive procedures I’d need to put me back together. Yet, I did survive. And throughout my recovery, I was asked over and over how the hell I endured so much for so long, and still come through on the other side.” After letting out a heavy sigh, he leans over and kisses the top of my head. 

“It was you, Embree. Every time I felt like giving up, it was you that came into my thoughts. My mind conjured up a life with you, along with scenarios of coming home to you. To our kids and our home. At my worst moments, you’d come into my dreams and beg me to fight. You’d demand I stay alive and made me promise that I’d make it home to you. Overwhelmed by pain and the agony of what I’d experienced, my mind created this fantasy life that revolved around you. It became the place I could go to escape the waking nightmare of my captivity. There was no pain there, no death, only comfort, joy, and love. That’s what kept me alive all that time, imagining the life I built with you.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until he reaches out to wipe away the moisture from my cheek. I’m so overwhelmed by what he went through and the depths of comfort he found just by imagining a life with me, that I don’t know what to say. Especially as I too spent so much of my life imagining what could have been had the fire that killed his parents never happened. Not only was he my first love, but he’s also the only person who’s ever felt like mine. Like he completes me in every way. Like he’s the other half of this missing piece of my soul. So if what he’s saying is true, could this mean that he feels the depth of our connection too?

Not ready to dig into that just yet, I elect to hold on to the feelings of doubt that, to this point, have served as a shield. There are holes in his story. Facts that contradict the depths of what the experience meant to him.

“If that’s true. If I’m the reason you survived, then why didn’t you come back afterward? Why didn’t you do as you promised, and come home to me?” It’s an unfair question. Believe me, I know, but consider this my half-hearted attempt to prove his revelation changes nothing.

It takes a few seconds, but after clearing his throat, he says, “When I woke up in that hospital, the first person I asked for was you. It’d been days since the rescue and I’d been kept in a drugged-induced coma because of a head injury. I was septic. My body was riddled with infection thanks to untreated wounds. Between the head injury, fever, and all the medication I was on, it hadn’t dawned on me that the life I thought I had with you wasn’t real. When they broke the news to me, I didn’t believe them. It took a couple of weeks before I finally accepted the truth. You weren’t mine. The life I thought I was coming home to didn’t exist.”

When he breaks into sobs and covers his face, I turn to face him. This time it’s me that pulls him into my arms. The devastation pouring straight from his soul strikes at my heart like a physical pain that steals my breath. I did this to him. I pushed him. Out of some cruel need to make him prove his feelings for me, I’ve gone and made him relive this unimaginable nightmare. He thought he was safe. That he’d kept his promise and survived, only to find out what he lived for didn’t exist. 

“By the time I was discharged from the hospital and the rehabilitation program, it had been months. Physically, my injuries were extensive, and it took almost a year to recover. The brain injury, along with the psychological trauma, those have taken far longer and may never fully heal. I’m still messed up, Emb. All these months later, I’m still not the same man I was before everything happened. It didn’t feel right coming back to Ruby Creek in the shape I was in. I was barely surviving from one day to the next.”

When he pulls back, I let him go. Sitting back on the couch, he adjoins our hands and lays them on his thigh.

“Plus, it’d been so long by then. I’d been gone for well over a decade and I wasn’t sure you’d all welcome me back, especially with all the problems I now have. I was also terrified to find out you were married and happy with someone else, especially since in my subconscious, it felt like you were still mine. The experience left me feeling like I had lost you. Like you and the life we shared had been ripped out from under me. So the thought of you living the life I envisioned for us with another man was too much for my shattered mind to take.”

Shaking his head, he emits a self-deprecating laugh. “For god’s sake, it was all so real. I swear I can still remember the smell of your skin. The softness of your body and how it felt against mine. And your lips. I’ll never forget the way you tasted or the sounds you made when I kissed you breathless. It’s so hard to believe it was all in my head when I swear to all that is holy, nothing has ever felt more real.”

When I turn to look at him, I realize his eyes are locked on me. The intensity in his gaze, combined with his sensual words, reignites the fire that’s always burned between us. In that instant, I’m a 16-year-old girl again, desperately waiting to be claimed by the only boy I’ve ever wanted. The only boy who’s ever made me feel so completely whole.

“Then kiss me. Right now. Make it a real memory and see if what you imagined was based on some kind of premonition. Or maybe on the memory of our last night together.”

As if I’ve slapped him, he yanks his hand from mine. Leaning forward, he runs his hands over his face and lets out a hard breath. His reaction to my words is like a bucket of ice water has been poured on me, leaving me cold and desperate to disappear.

“Don’t, Embree.” His tone is sharp, almost angry if not for the tinge of hurt that comes through in the break of his voice. “Don’t ask that of me because you don’t mean it. You’re hurt, vulnerable, and grieving over everything that happened today. I won’t take advantage of you the way he did. If you and I ever get the chance to make those memories real, I want it to be because you want to be with me. Not because you’re trying to forget about him.”

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Author’s Note:

This is the first time we hear Lucas discuss what happened to him during that last mission. His openness to share the story is about showing Emilia that he's never gotten over her. However, I believe this is the first true stepping stone toward their healing, given this is the first time Lucas has shared significant details of what he's endured in the years since he left Ruby Creek. 

I'd love to know what you think of this chapter. How do you feel about what happened between Emilia and Lucas? Are you surprised by what happened between them at the end?

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