Page 49 of Montana Freedom

“Are you?”

I let the words hang in the silence. That was the real question. The one I had to answer by myself before I could decide anything about Emma. She deserved that. I refused to use her as a crutch for my own pain, and I wasn’t going to saddle her with half measures if I wasn’t sure.

The leader part of my brain kicked in. The piece of me that made it easy for me to coordinate teams and run a place like Resting Warrior. I could lay out data and see the best course. But I was man enough to admit I hadn’t done it for myself because I hadn’t wanted to and I wasn’t ready.

Was I ready now? I didn’t know. But for Emma’s sake, I needed to figure it out. Right now.

Was I happy?

I had a good job and good friends. A good family. Day-to-day, my life was pleasant. I enjoyed what I did and that I was able to help both people and animals who needed it. But did it equate to happiness? On a surface level, yes. Because I wasn’tunhappy.

But that wasn’t the same thing.

And that was what that scared me the most. So much, I hadn’t ever truly wanted to put words to it. I wasn’t happy. Not on the primal, instinctual level I craved. I was existing. But the memories I was plagued by and the mistakes I was paying for were stopping me from reaching for that happiness.

Would it ever not feel wrong to be happy when I’d been the cause of so much death?

You made the decision with the information you had at the time, just like everyone does every single day.

I shook my head. It never ceased to amaze me. You could be in therapy for years and do the work, and yet sometimes it still took hearing someone else say exactly what you needed in the exact right way for it to sink in.

“No,” I finally said aloud. “I’m not.”

“Will Emma make you happy?”

I let my head fall into my hands. “Yes. But how do I get past the feeling she’s wasting herself on me?”

“I don’t know, but that feeling has nothing to do with her.”

Looking up, I told him with my expression I needed to hear more.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but Emma isn’t the one who’s said you’re not worthy of a relationship. It’s all you. You’re the one who’s put yourself in the category of ‘not worth it.’ It’s not something Emma can fix, and if you don’t work on it yourself, with Rayne, or another therapist, then it has the potential to become a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“Fuck.”

He chuckled. “The truth is a bitch, isn’t it?”

“I would say you have no idea, but you know well.”

“I do.” Punching the bag one more time, he stepped forward and clapped me on the shoulder. “Just think about it. No one here would mind seeing you happy, Daniel. Emma seems nice, and I’m sure that will only continue as we get to know her more. I’m going home.”

“Have a good night.”

His smile told me he planned to, and the spark of jealousy it brought forward only made all of this worse. It was the kind of smile that came from knowing he was going home to fall into the arms of the love of his life.

Which was what I could be doing and still chose not to.

I didn’t know if Emma was the love of my life, but she was the first woman to reach me this way. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, no matter how hard I tried. And my thoughts turned toward what might have happened after our kiss, though I’d tried to resist that too, out of respect for her.

Since the mission, I hadn’t been with anyone. I was abstaining from being in a relationship, and that, in my mind, included sex. Even before, I’d never been a one-night–stand kind of guy. I wasn’t built for it. When I was with someone, I wanted to be with them and give them all of me for however long we were together.

That was frightening too. Because I knew myself, and allowing myself to let go enough to be with Emma was more significant than simply something light and easy. Which meant, if it didn’t last, it would hurt.

It felt more shameful to be avoiding potential emotional anguish than to be afraid of physical pain. But sometimes I felt like my entire life was pain, and I shouldn’t blame myself for not wanting more.

Now I was alone in the gym, but I didn’t go back to working out. I again let the puzzle pieces fall out before me in my mind.

Was the situation with Simon fucked up? Yes.