Page 3 of Pretend I’m Yours
Other friends I had in the city tried to get me to go out with them. They encouraged me to move on from my wife by finding another fling. I was good looking, they said, so it wouldn’t be hard for me to get another girl in bed. Not to mention how many women went crazy for a military man.
There was a part of me that thought they may be right. I was muscular, very much in shape after my time spent on missions. I’d turned thirty-one just days before I was shot, so I was still in the prime of my life. My black hair was a stark contrast to my blue eyes, and my angular jaw was one thing Anna Marie always said was sexy.
I could be a catch if I wanted to.
But that was the problem. I didn’t. It had been two years since she’d broken my heart and I still didn’t want anything to do with love.
I was done with women. Done giving my heart to any of them, anyway. I didn’t want to get into another relationship. I was just out to make myself happy. Sure, I wouldn’t mind seducing a woman and bringing her back to my bed, but I didn’t want it to go any further than that, and I didn’t have the patience for drama I was sure that scenario would cause.
With all that Chicago had to offer, I still felt trapped and alone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want to hear from anyone. The city was far too small knowing that Anna Marie and Charlie were in it, and I just wanted all of it to go away.
But that wasn’t going to happen. I was back to civilian life, and that meant that I had to face the facts. No more hiding out in shithole barracks in the desert, no more pushing my problems out of my mind so I could just worry about my orders.
I was home.
2
Hannah
I dropped my head onto the open book and sighed. School felt impossible as usual, and I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the rest of the semester. Finals were coming up in a matter of weeks, and if I was going to graduate this year, I was going to have to really throw my heart and soul into it.
Not that I hadn’t already, but it had been a rocky road to get even this far. It seemed that so many things were stacked up against me, no matter how hard I fought to stay afloat.
A failed relationship that still haunted me, a family that didn’t speak to me, and barely scraping by to pay my own way had me at my wit’s end. Not to mention the fact that I had been discouraged more than once by my boyfriend for the field of work I wanted to get in to anyway.
I had always felt that my situation was unique. I knew I had a lot going for me. I came from a wealthy family, I had an excellent work ethic, and I had a heart for others. I wanted nothing more than to help at risk youth within the inner city, giving them the mental health support that they needed to stay off the street and off drugs, and to deal with the shit their broken families dumped on them.
I’d always thought that I would have the support of my loved ones going into such a field, but I’d never been more wrong.
My parents were pissed from the beginning. My mother often told me that I should go into something far more glamorous. I looked the part, after all. At least, that’s what she told me.
I was slightly built. Delicate, as she would say. I had chestnut hair and brown eyes to match with just the hint of freckles on my cheeks. I had a smile that could kill, and my slender frame was perfectly proportioned. Nothing was too big, nothing was too small.
And I didn’t care about any of it. My mother had always been far more vain than I, and she didn’t understand why looks didn’t matter to me. She didn’t understand why I was so determined to help young boys and girls, either.
Often, she and I had gotten into arguments over the vile and degrading things she’d call people she didn’t feel measured up to her worth, and I couldn’t stand it. As a result, I refused to let them help me pay for school. The money was there, and it was mine to take.
It had been put in a trust fund when I was younger, and I inherited it when I turned eighteen. But I just let it sit. They didn’t have any access to it, but I didn’t want to touch it, either. I knew it drove them crazy watching me work my way through school like any normal person would, and I didn’t care.
