Mission: Soldier to Daddy. Soraya Lane
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with being back.
Ollie looked up at him, and he resisted the urge to reach out. To touch her and remember what things had once been like for them. He knew it was a lot to expect, her having him here, but it wasn’t as if they were pretending to be together again. Except maybe just a little, to keep things uncomplicated for their son.
“Why didn’t you call, Luke?”
If he could have hung his head any lower, he would have. He’d been a lousy husband and an even worse dad, and he had no excuse. But her question still made him feel like dirt. Luke took another sip of wine and stared back at her.
“We were lucky to hear from you every other month.”
He frowned. “It was hard to make contact.” He knew it sounded phony, and the truth was he should have made more of an effort, but … damn it! He knew he’d stuffed up, and it wasn’t something he’d wanted to do.
“Bull!” She stood with a thump, glaring at him as she swore. “Don’t lie to me, Luke. You had a little boy here who cried for his daddy night after night, and you couldn’t make the effort to call more? He’s had to grow up without even remembering or knowing who you were.”
Luke stayed seated. He was not going to argue with her. Not on his first night home. Not like they used to. But at one point, when he had been at his lowest, that’s what he’d wanted: for Charlie to forget him so he never knew the pain of loss.
“Keep your voice down, Ollie. You’ll wake Charlie,” he said.
“How dare you!” she growled. “I’ve kept my voice down every night, doing nothing but look after our son. He’s been my life, Luke. While you’ve been off fighting for our country, I’ve been fighting for our son. For me. For our family.” She paused and glared at him, her voice dropping an octave. “While you decided not to give a damn.”
Her eyes were full of tears. Luke looked away. He couldn’t watch her. Couldn’t bear to see the sadness, the emptiness in her eyes. Worst of all, he knew she was right.
“I know it’s been hard for you.…”
The silence that stretched between them seemed to drain the air of oxygen. But it wasn’t just his fault, was it? Ollie hadn’t exactly acted as if she’d wanted him to stay, and he’d never forgotten it.
“You have no idea how hard it’s been, Luke. Don’t even try to understand. I was here alone, with a little boy who deserved a father.” Her voice cracked. “It wasn’t that you left me, it was that you left our son.”
Luke stood and walked into the kitchen. He couldn’t hide behind the excuse of being a soldier any longer, and Ollie was right. His son didn’t deserve to grow up without a dad, and he knew firsthand why. Because it was how he’d grown up, and he’d come home to make sure history didn’t repeat itself, that his son knew him.
“Olivia, I’m sorry. I am.”
“You forget that I’ve been around army wives for the last two years.” Olivia was standing behind him in the kitchen now, her voice still laced with tears. “They had calls at least every month, once a week even, and their husbands took leave and came home, even if it was only a few days. With your rank … Oh, I don’t even know anymore, Luke. But I do know that you could have done more.”
He looked back at his wife, ashamed. Walking out had been the easy option for him when things had become difficult, and he’d taken it. When their son had refused to sleep, when his wife had never believed he would have married her unless she was pregnant, knowing that he could die on deployment and leave his boy without a dad, just as he’d experienced …
“It was too hard to talk to you, Ollie. Charlie, too. It was easier not to.” It was a struggle to push the words out, to make himself be honest with her. “You have no idea how many times I picked up a phone, how many times I wanted to talk to you and couldn’t go through with it.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should have.”
By the time he looked back up, she was gone.
Luke dropped his head into his hands, eyes shut. Maybe if they hadn’t gotten pregnant so soon, if they hadn’t rushed into marriage, things would have been different. Maybe they never would have married at all. But all that mattered right now was making it up to his son, and proving to him that he was here for him, that he was committed to being his dad.
Because this time he had no intention of walking away.
CHAPTER TWO
CHARLIE’S HEAD APPEARED next to the bed and Luke squinted at the bedside clock. It was 2:00 a.m.
“Hey, buddy.” He reached out a hand and touched Charlie’s head. Luke didn’t know what else to do. He’d never really been around kids, not even his own.
His son blinked at him, big brown eyes peering down at him as the little boy leaned closer.
“Can I get into bed with you?” Charlie whispered.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.”
Luke pulled the covers back. He hated that he didn’t know what to do. Should he send him back to his own bed? Cuddle him? What?
Now Charlie was snuggling hard against him, and Luke knew there was no going back. He put his arm out, feeling awkward. Not sure what to say, to his own son.
“Daddy?”
Luke swallowed. Daddy. It was a name he’d dreamed of being called for two long years, but now he didn’t know how to even be a dad. When he’d left, Charlie had been so young, and now Luke could see how much he’d missed out on. “Yes, Charlie?”
“I love you.”
“Well, uh, I love you, too.” Luke choked. He tried to swallow again. Thank God it was dark and his son couldn’t see him.
“You won’t go away again, will you, Daddy?”
“No, bud.” He held his son close, fighting back tears. Truth was, he didn’t know when he’d be going away again, but he wasn’t going to let his son know that. It was what he did—the army called and he had to jump to attention. He’d tried to think otherwise sometimes, that maybe he could change vocation, but being a soldier was what he did, and he did it damn well. He had a few months without having to leave, and then he didn’t know what he was going to do. Or how he was going to leave things here.
“I like having a dad.”
Great. Talk about pulling on his heartstrings. Luke pushed away the feelings he’d tried so long to keep hidden—the guilt of leaving his son and repeating the cycle. Of letting his own child go through what he’d been through, what he’d struggled with his whole life: growing up without a dad and wishing like hell his life could have been different. But then, deep down, he’d rather Charlie not even know his dad than lose him and remember what he’d lost for the rest of his life. Like he had.
He’d gone all these years in the army without crying, and now he was on the verge of turning into a blubbering baby.
“Will you ever sleep in Mom’s bed?”
That made him smile. “Let’s hope so, kiddo.”
He knew it was a lie, a fib at a stretch. Ollie was never going to let him back in her bed, and although it was tempting to think about being under the sheets with her, that wasn’t why he was here. He’d come home for his son, to get to know the boy, not with any illusions that Ollie would take him back. Things had been strained between them, and he’d helped their marriage go from bad to worse.
“Do you have a night-light?”
Had someone taught his son interrogation techniques? “Let’s get some sleep, huh?”
Luke snuggled him even closer, tucking his son’s little body into his.
Maybe he could