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“You should have filed for divorce.” Liam crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s what, a couple hundred dollars and an hour of your time?”

I shrugged. “Never had a reason to.”

Jay studied me like he was reading my soul. “Did you have a reason not to?”

It was a good question. One I didn’t have an answer to—not one that didn’t make me sound like a complete asshole, anyway.

Lila’s accident…it had terrified me. She’d gone rock climbing at Seneca Rocks, a couple of hours outside D.C., with some friends who wanted photos. She was a competent climber, and she’d climbed way harder routes out west, so I hadn’t worried.

But I should have. I really fucking should have.

Because her belayer had been a complacent jackass who didn’t pay enough attention. When she slipped, he reacted too late, and she took a ground fall.

Lila hadn’t updated her emergency contact forms—there was very little she hated in this world more than paperwork—so I hadn’t even been the one the hospital called. Vanessa had called me, sobbing and frantic, and saying she was getting on a plane. I went straight to the hospital, but Lila was in surgery. Since I wasn’t listed on any of her forms, the doctors wouldn’t tell me shit.

I was so sure she was going to die.

I spiraled. I sat there in my car with one singular thought in my brain: If Lila wasn’t here, then I didn’t want to be, either.

She didn’t die. But I couldn’t forget how close I came to ending it. How selfish and sick I was even to let the thought of doing that cross my mind, when every member of my team had had their life ripped away far too early. I didn’t deserve to be the one who had survived.

The way I loved Lila…it was too much. It had only been a year since I’d lost my entire team, and I wasn’t emotionally stable enough to handle it.

Which I proved by running away like a little bitch.

I came here to Mercy River Ranch. A place built to help people like me who wear their scars from service deep under their skin. A place for healing, even when we didn’t deserve it.

Maybe I didn’t file for divorce because a small part of me hoped I’d never have to. That maybe one day, I’d have my shit together, and the way I loved her wouldn’t be so goddamn terrifying.

But what it came down to was I didn’t want her to marry anyone but me.

I rubbed my chest.

Lila Ford was my wife. If she wanted to change that, she’d have to do it herself. It sure as hell wouldn’t be me.

14

LILA

“Fucking Seb,” I muttered as I twisted off the screw top on the bottle of sauvignon blanc. I poured a healthy glug of wine into my glass tumbler, downed it in two swallows, then filled the glass halfway. “I can’t believe I’m actually married.”

“That boy is too handsome for his own good. He needs to be taught to clean up after himself and not leave it for someone else to handle.” Tamilee held out her glass, tapping it with a ruby red fingernail. “Just to there. I’m drinking in solidarity, but I’ve got a date tonight.”

Lennon pushed her sunglasses up to gawk at Tamilee. “You have a date?”

Tamilee bristled. “I don’t care for your tone, Lennon. Life doesn’t end at thirty-five, you know.”

“It’s not that you’re old,” Lennon defended. “I didn’t think Mercy River had much of a gay scene, that’s all. Especially lesbians. The population of Mercy River is first cows, then sheep, then cowboys, then chickens, then gay cowboys, and then women. Lesbians are at the very bottom of that list.”

Tamilee snorted. “Well, that’s true,” she admitted. “My date’s in Casper. I’m spending the weekend there.”

“Your first date is a whole weekend?” Emma asked, reaching for the bottle. “Damn. Lesbians really do move fast.”

“I never said it was our first date.” Tamilee scratched her nose like she was trying to hide her face. “Our first date was a month ago. We did a weekend trip to Jackson.”

Emma and Lennon cackled.

“Whatever,” Tamilee muttered, but she was smiling. I had the feeling the weekend was going to go well. “We’re here to talk about Lila’s marriage problems, not my dating life.”