Page 4 of Flashback
“I’ll probably turn it in before that.”
“That’s fine. Whenever you’re ready.” She dropped the keys to the house into his outstretched hand. “I hope you enjoy your new home.”
“I’m sure I will.” At least that was the plan. He might have bought something a little over the top for a single guy, but he was determined to make this a home he could raise a family in even if he didn’t have one yet.
“I’ll get out of your hair and see you when you drop off the key for your apartment.”
“You will. Barring any problems, I’d say I’ll be ready to hand it in on Wednesday. And thank you, Mrs. Russell, you’ve made everything about my move to Sunnyville easy.”
She smiled up at him. “It’s my pride, it doesn’t allow me to be anything but the best, and the best make sure every client gets the home they’re looking for.”
“Well, this client couldn’t be happier.” Smiling at her, he added, “I’ll see you on Wednesday with the apartment key.”
And close that final door on his old life. The new one was already well underway. He loved his job and the house he’d bought despite it not being a “single man’s” ideal home.
“Good, good.” She patted his arm. “See you then.”
He marveled at the older woman as she made her way back to her car. She’d helped make his transition into civilian life a smooth one. He’d been unsure of his decision to move to a new town in the beginning, and Mrs. Russell had gone out of her way to accommodate him, first in his search for temporary housing and then in his hunt for a permanent dwelling.
And she’d outdone herself every step of the way on that score. Her questions—his answers—had given her a clear idea of what he was looking for in a home. Within a week, she had three places for him to look at. All the houses had appealed, but this one on Olympic Street felt most right.
Yes, it was much bigger than the other two, a lot of house for an unattached guy. However, the large yard, along with the huge deck off the back of the house, had sold him instantly.
He’d had a vision of his children running around on the grass, his wife sitting beside him, cold beer in his hand, a glass of wine in hers . . .
Yeah, he’d known the second he’d stepped out on that deck that this was the place for him.
He might not be looking for that wife and family just yet, but he didn’t plan to remain celibate forever.
He’d decided he’d wait a year after the move.
A year to settle in—to the job, now the house—then he’d start looking.
Before that, he would make friends, more friends than he’d already made on the job in the last six months, and immerse himself deeper in his new hometown.
Rylan liked the idea of settling into a community like Sunnyville. And there wasn’t an army base within a hundred miles. Not that he’d been uncomfortable living near one after his discharge, but it was time to move on, put that behind him and embrace life as a civilian.
His physical injuries were one hundred percent healed, and there were no residual effects from the crash other than the occasional flashback. And those were limited to his nightmares. Nightmares that were few and far between these days.
He’d recovered fully. What the army doctors said would take years, he’d accomplished in a little over fifteen months. Astonishing when you tossed in a cheating wife, a betraying best friend, a divorce, a move, and a new job.
Yeah, he’d recovered fully.
From everything.
It made him wonder if he had loved Renee at all. She’d certainly accused him of not loving her, of not being there for her.
Rylan shook his head.
No more of that.
None of it mattered. She was in the past. He’d had no contact with her or his former best friend since the divorce was finalized twelve months ago, and he was happy to keep it that way.
Another reason to move away. There was no chance of running into either of them at the supermarket here.
Sunnyville held no bad memories or living reminders of what he’d lost.
Then again, when he looked back, it seemed as though he’d never really had it to begin with.
