Page 87 of Viking

This was all before I met him in Vegas while celebrating being selected for a Raptor squadron after he’d finished his Formal Training Unit—top of his class in that, too.

I knew he was good—anyone who’s ever watched him fly knows that. But this? This is something else entirely. You don’t just wind up flying an F-22. You don’t get a call sign that carries weight, or a reputation that follows you unless you’ve earned it a thousand times over. Logan didn’t just become a fighter pilot—he became one of the best in the world.

At thirty-two, he’s already done what most pilots spend their entire careers chasing. Top of his class. Combat-proven. Selected for the most elite airframe in the Air Force. The kind of pilot that gets his name spoken with respect in rooms he’s never even stepped into.

And yet, he never talks about it. Never boasts. Never so much as hints at how impressive he is. Just carries the weight of it—the expectations, the losses, the sacrifices—as if they belong to him alone. For a minute, I allow the pride swelling in my chest to overpower the anger, hurt, and confusion.

I blink a few times, realizing my mom’s been talking. “When you told him about your brother, was it easy? You had no idea Logan even had any kind of connection to Lincoln and you still waited before sharing. You told me yourself that it came out when you were upset, flew out before you could stop it.”

“So he just ices me out?” My voice is tight. I sound exhausted.

"That’s his way of trying to heal, Lila. Your father has done the same thing," she says, her voice a little firmer now.

I exhale sharply, squeezing my eyes shut. My thoughts swirl around in a frantic haze. The frustration and uncertainty claw at me from the inside. "I just...I think I tried so hard to be there for him, and it wasn’t enough. But it isn’t just his grief. He’s broken. And because of everything that’s happened I—" I swallow hard, the words escaping before I can stop them. "I’m broken now, too."

I hear her take a breath on the other end, like she’s bracing herself for what’s coming next. "Lila...honey, what else happened?" I’ve only told Alinna and Ivy, and even then, I hid the ugliest part from them.

I don’t love you.

My stomach churns at the thought of everything I’ve been carrying.

The pain of him walking away without so much as a backward glance.

Leaving me with a shattered heart and the echo of his absence.

I want to tell her, to scream it all out, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

"He just disappeared. Like I wasn’t even there. Like nothing between us mattered," I say, the words coming out ragged. "I don’t know why, Mom. I don’t know what I did to make him leave me like that."

"Honey..." Her voice is gentle, the kind of softness that only a mother can give. "He’s carrying something heavy. He shut you out because he didn’t want to burden you with whatever he’s holding inside."

He took a missile meant for me.

Systems failed.

Murphy’s fucking Law at its finest.

I shake my head, feeling the ache of his absence flood through me. "I wanted to help him. I wanted to be there for him, to carry some of that weight. Mom, I can’t… I don’t think I can fix him."

It should’ve been me.

"Hear me, darling. He’s overcome with grief but that doesn’t mean you weren’t enough." Her voice is rich with understanding.

I close my eyes, the words ringing in my ears. "But what if I wasn’t?" The doubt lingers in my chest, impossible to shake.

The silence that follows feels like an eternity. I hear my mom’s soft breath on the line, then she says something that makes my heart ache even more. "Hon, you are enough. You’re more than enough. Sometimes people don’t know how to ask for help. They bury their heartache deep and chase healing in their own way, like a silent pursuit of something they can’t even name yet. Logan’s grief might be louder than his words, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t searching for a way through it.”

I let out a long breath, feeling like I might finally break under the weight of everything I’ve been holding in. "I know, Mom. I’m just...I’m so tired. Of everything. Of missing him. Of missing us. I thought we were getting somewhere, and then..." I close my eyes tightly. "Then he was just gone."

God wasn’t giving me anything. He was reminding me that I destroy everything I touch.

Her voice is steady. "Maybe it’s not your time yet, honey."

I swallow hard, feeling the pain settle deeper into my bones. "I hate that I want him to come back to me."

She doesn’t answer right away. She just lets the silence hang between us for a moment, then says softly, "We don’t always get to control who stays or who leaves, Lila. But you do control how you move forward. It’s okay to feel the hurt. It’s okay to miss him. But don’t let that stop you from healing. You deserve more than being stuck in a place of what-ifs."

I nod, my hand gripping the kitchen counter in front of me, the cold seeping into my overheated palm. "I don’t even know where to start. How do I heal from this?"