Page 45 of Viking

By the time dinner winds down, the sun has set, and the conversation shifts to other things—funny mishaps at work, embarrassing childhood stories, and some harmless teasing.

Logan puts his arm around me, pulling me into his chest and dropping a kiss on my temple. I inhale deeply, taking in the near perfect moment.

Hampton, Virginia

May 31, 2024

2000

Logan

The sun’s setting when I get to her place, casting streaks of orange and pink across the sky, like the world’s trying too hard to be beautiful. The front door is unlocked like it always is when she knows I’m coming over. It’s one of those little things I’ve come to rely on—the silent welcome, the quiet reassurance that no matter how chaotic everything else is, I have this.

But the second I step inside, I know something’s off.

The air feels charged.

Lila’s standing just outside the kitchen, arms wrapped tightly around her abdomen, her jaw set like she’s trying to hold something back. Her green eyes sear into mine.

If looks could kill.

Shit.

“Hey,” I say carefully, testing the waters.

She doesn’t say anything back. Doesn’t move. Just stands there, stiff as stone.

My stomach knots. “What’s up?”

“I heard something today,” she starts, her voice sounding strained. “Someone said Alpha and Charlie Flights are deploying soon. Maybe Delta Flight, too if they need all of you.”

I’m part of Alpha Flight within my fighter squadron, the 142nd Phantom Lancers. There are five flights, Alpha through Echo. When we deploy, another flight—likely Bravo—will take over as the demo team until we return. Which means Lila will be watching another pilot skillfully rip the sky in two during practices and demonstrations.

I blink, thrown off by how fast she cuts to it. “What?”

“Is it true?” she presses, her gaze like a spotlight burning into me.

I hesitate. Not because I want to lie, but because I don’t have a real answer. Bravo and Echo aren’t back yet, and we haven’t been given their redeployment date, so everything is speculation at this point. Will my deployment happen eventually? Sure. But that’s like saying it’ll eventually be Christmas. I’m not putting up decorations now just because it’s inevitable. I run a hand through my hair, sighing. “I don’t know. Maybe. Nothing’s official.”

Her laugh is brittle, humorless. “So you just weren’t going to tell me?”

I step closer, trying to keep my voice calm. “Lila, it’s not like that. I didn’t tell you because there’s nothing to tell yet. Deployment is part of the job. You know that.”

She flinches, like I’ve slapped her with those words. “I know that, Logan. But I’m not just part of the job.”

Of course she knows. Guilt floods me, hot and fast.

I exhale sharply, trying to rein in the frustration clawing at the edges of my voice. “I didn’t say you were.” But I can hear the sharp edge in my tone, and so can she. I curse under my breath and inhale deeply, slower this time, trying to soften it. “I wasn’t hiding it. I just…I don’t have details. Why worry you over something that might not even happen?”

Her arms drop to her sides, fists clenched. “Because it matters to me!” she snaps. “You matter to me. And finding out from someone else that you might be leaving, that matters to me, too.”

The words sit between us like a wound left open, aching and exposed.

I want to say something, to fix this before it spirals further, but my throat is tight.

She’s right. And the worst part? I knew she would be. I knew she’d be upset, and I still told myself it was fine, that I wasn’t keeping anything from her. But maybe I was. Maybe I was keeping it from myself, too.

Because if I said it out loud—if I admitted that I might be leaving—it would make it real.