She’d held it together the last time a team had visited her, too. Back then she’d been certain that Winston would return to her.
“That letter... I don’t quite know how to express this...it’s unusual, to be sure...”
She waited. Felt for the guy. What, her death benefits weren’t going to be as described? She could tell him she didn’t care, but knew that the navy had its protocols. That there was probably a manual description Officer Hall was attempting to adhere to. Protocols were there for good reason, Winston always used to tell her.
Chaplain Blaine, her tag read on the navy blue jacket, leaned forward, almost reaching out a hand that, instead, landed on her own knee.
Hall coughed. “Are you here alone, ma’am?”
“Yes.” If you didn’t count the baby.
“And, since your husband was declared dead, are you in a relationship...?” He cleared his throat. “Is there anyone else who could or should be here with you?”
Frowning, Emily looked from one to the other of the three of them. All in their uniforms. Looking so...uncomfortable. She didn’t get it. She’d already been told Winston was dead.
What could they tell her that would be worse than death?
“I don’t need anyone here with me,” she said. “I live alone. And no, I’m not in a relationship, though what that has to do with anything...” She let her words trail off as she heard the defensiveness in her tone. They were good people doing their jobs. Apparently a very difficult one that morning.
Stomach churning, Emily was taking a breath to ask what was going on when Officer Hall spoke.
“We’re here to tell you that your husband is not dead, Mrs. Hannigan...”
He said more. She could hear the drone of a male voice. Felt eyes on her. Met the gaze of the redheaded chaplain and locked there.
Your husband is not dead, Mrs. Hannigan.
Was she going crazy? Had he really said those incredible, beautiful, miraculous words? But...
There was compassion in the chaplain’s gaze. Along with other things she couldn’t decipher at the moment. But one thing was pretty clear. There was no light of joy. No sparkle. With jerky movements, she turned her head, taking in the two officers on either side of Chaplain Blaine.
“Winston’s alive?” Before she could figure this out, she had to make certain she’d heard right. That she wasn’t losing her mind right there in her own living room just three days after she’d found happiness again—in the form of the life inside her.
“Yes.” Officer Hall nodded, as though to emphasize the word. Maybe knowing that emphasis was needed on her side of the room?
“He’s alive!” She stood, clasped her hands, teared up, as all three officers remained seated, watching her. Seemingly concerned, as opposed to just being polite.
So though she needed to run outside and scream to the world, she figured that could wait until she was alone. She sat. Faced them.
“What’s wrong?” It didn’t matter what they told her. Her man was alive. They could get through anything else.
Winston was alive! And she had a baby to give him! There could be no mistake in that timing. Finally! Yes! Life was making sense again and...
“He’s been living with extremists for the past two years, Emily,” the chaplain spoke now. “He’s not the man you knew him to be.”
They had no idea what she knew of Winston—bodies changed, thoughts changed, even hearts changed sometimes, but souls...they were forever. And that’s what she knew. Souls didn’t change.
Winston had shared his with her. She still kept it tightly held within her heart.
“I realize that combat takes its toll,” she said now. Had he lost his legs? Or maybe his face had been blown up? Whatever, she didn’t care—other than for the pain he’d suffered and could still be suffering. “It’s fine. I’m fully capable of handling it. Just tell me where he is and when I can see him.”
“That’s just it, ma’am,” Hall said. “He doesn’t want to see you. Not yet.”
So he was that bad. She shook her head. Confused. Winston knew that while she was wildly attracted to him, physical appearance was only a small part of the bond between them.
“Not yet.” She homed in on what she felt she could master in the moment. “When, then?”
“Soon,” Chaplain Hall said while the medic remained alert, but mute. “He’s going to contact you, but felt that just dropping in on you would be too much...”