Book 3 - Chapter Fifty Eight

Mackenzie’s POV

I pace the floor in agitation, gnawing on a nail as Maxton plays on the floor in front of me, oblivious to my internalised breakdown. To think I woke up this morning wrapped in a fog of happiness? Is that what it was? Confusion is more like it. I had not meant to come back to the living room after putting Maxton down, but even my pep talk hadn’t stopped my body from doing what it wanted. For some reason I seem to be unable to stay away from the soldier I’m sharing living space with, and when he shared that last piece of himself with me, the deeply hidden guilt he lives with each day, it was like I became tethered to him.

As we watched tv, all I could smell was his cologne, feel the ripple of his muscles under my cheek along with the slow breaths that brushed the top of……