Page 49 of The Bright Side of Brooding
She raised a brow. “As a coach?”
“No. In the Army. I have to pass PT tests and be fit enough to do my job.”
She made a disbelieving sound. “I’m sorry to tell you this, because I don’t want to sound like I’d ever discourage you from looking like an anatomy lesson on well-developed male musculature, but there’s a long way between passing a PT test and you.”
I chuckled. “True. Obviously, my interest goes beyond simply passing. I’ve always liked exercise, and after my parents passed, it was one of the ways I processed the world. It’s hard to imagine a life where I don’t coach people more and more, especially after I retire. With that, for me, comes walking the walk, so to speak.”
We’d slowed to a stroll, but at this, she stopped and turned a little toward me. A look of something small, light, and pleased made my pulse tick up a notch.
“I like that about you.”
She moved again, so I followed, though I would've been happy to stand there and look at her. I didn’t know what to say to that, so we walked quietly side by side, looking out at the early spring version of the park. Last I’d visited had been July the first year I lived in Germany. The vibrancy of the grass and trees was missing, but it still felt like a lovely little manicured version of nature in the midst of the city.
“So you think you’ll coach when you retire from the Army?”
“Coach, train, yeah. I’m not sure I’ll end up with anyone who wants to train the way Art and Alicia do, or even Rob, but if that works out, I’d enjoy it. If not, just training people to work hard safely and to meet their goals sounds good to me.”
Lately, it sounded better and better. I was fully aware I might be suffering from somegrass is greenermentality, but the Army drag had gotten to me. I couldn’t keep my mind off the countdown to when I’d hit twenty years and be able to walk away, retirement fully vested and the rest of my life in front of me. I’d inherited everything from Gran, too, so financially I wouldn’t have to worry.
At the same time, that prospect ofthe rest of my lifefilled me with so much emptiness, sometimes it took my breath away. What kind of future did I really have? Leaving the Army after twenty years—more than half my life at this point. I didn’t want to stay, but would working out, training people, and just existing be enough?Thatwas not a topic to consider right now.
“How long until retirement for you?”
Her voice brought me back to the moment.
“Not quite fifteen months.”
She whipped to me. “I know we talked about this with everyone, but really? Retirement after twenty years?”
I nodded.
“But you’re—you… how old are you?” She looked so perplexed, almost troubled.
Interesting. Wouldn’t have guessed that. Also hadn’t anticipated that I might be too old for her. I hadn’t even considered that aspect.
“I’m thirty-seven.”
She swallowed. “I’m thirty.”
The tone in her voice didn’t sound good. I’d call it disappointed, but that didn’t quite hit it. Pensive, yes, but with a twinge of regret for some reason.
“Is that a problem?”
Might as well get that out of the way. I certainly didn’t see it as one, and I hoped like hell she didn’t either. But if she did, I needed to start the process of winding myself back onto my safe little spool. I’d already unraveled more than I could’ve imagined, and if this—
“No. Not—I don’t think so.”
Not exactly an effusive endorsement of the age gap. I didn’t know what to say to prompt her to talk more, but she pivoted toward me, her hands tangled together.
“It’s just, what do you mean when you ask that?”
“When I ask if my being thirty-seven is a problem for you?”
She swallowed and nodded.
Nerves crackled.Okay, just say it. “I mean, are you uncomfortable dating someone seven years older than you?”
The beaming smile that blossomed on her face made my heart leap in pleasure. The words that came next all the more.
