Atmyself. I didn’t even have a gun on me. What was I thinking?
And the fact that I still couldn’t stay out of trouble.
At the fact that even with someone like Frasier in my corner, I didn’t know how to wait.
I packed that night.
Quietly. Methodically.
No tears.
Just shame.
Because I wasn’t someone who could wait around like a soldier’s girlfriend, I wasn’t built for porch lights and praying.
I’d told myself this was a big mistake.
But this?
Letting someone matter this much?
This was me repeating the cycle.
So I wrote him a note.
Frasier—
I couldn’t stay still. You knew that.
I wanted to be the kind of woman who waited for her man to come home.
But I’m not her.
I don’t know if I ever will be.
Don’t come looking for me.
—M
I left the note on his pillow.
And walked away. Again.
12
Frasier
Igot back at dawn.
Dusty. Exhausted. Blood on my boots and adrenaline still in my veins.
The mission had been a mess—hostiles, weather delays, missing intel—but we got the guy out alive.
All I wanted now was a hot shower… and Marley.
But her cabin was empty.
The bed was made.