The Soldier's Sweetheart. Сорейя Лейн

a moment away from Nate. Away from the happy family scene that she’d been enjoying so much until her silly fantasy had taken over her thoughts.

      It didn’t matter that Nate was home, and there was no point even thinking about what could have been. Because the truth was he’d made the decision that he didn’t want to be with her when he chose not to come home. And the perfect little family they’d often talked about when they were together? It wasn’t even possible.

      No matter how badly she wanted children of her own, that wasn’t in her future any longer. There was nothing she could do to change that, and she sure didn’t want Nate to know about it, either.

      “Do you want to cut the cake or shall I?” Jess called out.

      Sarah hurried into the kitchen and took a deep breath, relieved to be away from the table even for a moment, before taking the knife and starting to slice into it. “I’m fine doing this, you go and sit down,” she told her friend.

      She’d already eaten enough cake to make her stomach ache earlier in the day, yet her brain was trying to tell her she was ready for more comfort food already.

      Sarah spun around with a plate in each hand before dropping one with a smash to the floor.

      “Nate!” She’d run smack-bang into him, the plates bumping straight into his chest.

      He bent to scoop up the fallen slice of cake with one hand, the other collecting what was left of the broken plate.

      “I’m sorry, I …” Sarah didn’t know what to say, so she put the other plate on the counter and bent down, too, picking up the smaller fragments.

      Nate’s hand hovered close to hers, so close she wished he’d touch her, to feel his fingers against her skin. Like a drug she’d long given up but was so overwhelmingly tempted to consume again.

      “Everything okay in there?”

      “Fine,” Nate called back to his sister.

      Only Sarah wasn’t so sure things were fine. Her heart was beating hard and fast, and her stomach was flipping at a rapid rate. She held the broken pieces of plate in her hands before braving a glance at Nate, and finding him looking straight back at her. His blue eyes icy as he stared.

      “Sarah.” He stated her name, like he wanted to say something else but couldn’t figure out what or how to go about it.

      “Do you want to go for a walk?” Sarah’s question came out as a whisper.

      “Now?”

      She nodded. Nate plopped the cake on the remainder of the plate he held and offered her his arm, careful to keep his sticky cake fingers away from her. Sarah accepted his help but didn’t look him in the eye again. Didn’t connect with him or touch him in any other way, because she was starting to feel so out of her depths, so weak, that she was terrified.

      They both rinsed and dried their hands in silence.

      “Jess, we’re going for a walk,” Nate told his sister, calling out but not moving. “Be back soon.”

      Sarah followed his lead, heading out the back door. And when his fingers brushed hers, the most gentle of touches as they walked together, hands hanging at their sides, she didn’t pull away. They curled against her own, fingers so close to interlinking they were halfway to holding hands, before the moment was over and she was left with a shiver crossing her shoulders as the wind touched her bare skin instead.