Page 13 of Reclaiming Izabel

Throwing myself into my job helped me through the grief, but I wouldn’t have made it without Cindy, especially when I lost my baby a mere four months after Drake’s death.

Pain dug into my chest.

Tears sprung to my eyes.

Would there ever come a time when their loss wouldn’t hurt? That was why I’d finally agreed to go on an actual date and not one that was work-related. Maybe falling in love with someone else was the answer. Counseling sessions, group therapy, and the passage of time had dulled the ache, but there were still days of crippling pain.

“I’m not backing out. Kyle’s great.” He was the new architect at the firm and had been my date at the company gala last week. I hadn’t experienced belly flutters the way I had with Drake, but I had accepted that my husband was the love of my life. My soul mate. But like my grief counselor said, the heart had room tolove more than one person, and it didn’t mean I was replacing Drake.

There was no replacing Drake.

But I had to move on somehow. Because this gaping emptiness? It had gone on for too long and I was barely existing outside my job.

A light sigh of relief whooshed at the other end of the line. “Good. I don’t know why you couldn’t find a match on RightSpark.”

It had been Cindy who opened an account for me on the online dating website saying she’d had much success there.

“Online dating doesn’t work for everyone. Just because it worked for you, it doesn’t mean it’d work for me. And, for the love of God, don’t go opening accounts for me on all these websites.”

A hearty laugh came over the phone. “I just hate to see a beautiful woman like you remain single for the rest of your life. I’m sure your husband would’ve wanted you to find someone else and be happy.”

I wasn’t sure that was a true statement. Drake was over-the-top possessive. I imagined even in death he wouldn’t be willing for another man to have me. The corners of my lips tipped into a small smile.

“Didn’t you meet Drake in school?” Cindy asked suddenly.

“I was in my last year of grad school,” I replied. “I was the nerdy girl my classmates dragged to a bar. At twenty-six, I’d never had a serious boyfriend.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“I had a scholarship at an Ivy League university and I wasn’t going to mess that up by getting distracted.”

“And then Drake swept you off your feet,” Cindy gushed.

I laughed. “You could say that.” Contrary to what people believed, SEALs were a low-key bunch when they were out inpublic. I wasn’t even aware of their group at the noisy honky-tonk bar and hadn’t known that Drake had already singled me out from all the women in the establishment. He startled me when I exited the ladies’ room and was about to attack him with pepper spray. He disarmed me easily and somehow managed to charm me enough to leave the bar with him. We ended up talking for hours in his pickup and had breakfast at a diner at two in the morning. He was in the area because one of his buddies was from Ithaca and was getting married.

“He gave me the best six years of my life.” My voice cracked.

“Shit, honey, the last thing I want to do is set you back,” Cindy said.

“I’m okay.” And I was determined to move on,dammit.

“Have you heard from Marcus?” she asked.

I winced at the mention of Drake’s former commander. If there was someone whose loss was beyond catastrophic, it was Marcus Harrelson. To have lost his entire team and his family within days had proven too much for him to bear. He’d drowned his sorrows in a bottle and gotten addicted to painkillers. He got kicked out of the Teams. I’d visited him every few weeks after he’d come back from rehab.

“Yes. A couple of days ago.”

“Does he look better?”

“Yes. I think this time rehab will stick. He seems more focused at work.” I had gotten Marcus a job with the firm’s security department. With Marcus’s background and the circumstances of his past, our boss was willing to overlook his one transgression of showing up drunk at work. But rehab had been a part of the deal.

“I feel so bad for him,” Cindy mumbled. My assistant had a soft spot for Marcus. “I wish Veteran’s Affairs would devote more budget to mental health.”

“Good luck with that,” I muttered. I wasn’t much into politics but had heard enough from Drake about every slash in budget for military veterans.

“Maybe I should make him a casserole this weekend,” she said.

“Cindy,” I warned. “Leave the man alone. He’s fine.”

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