I shrugged and crossed my arms over my chest, completely dissatisfied with the appetizer Emily had ordered for the two of us.

Food wasn't what I wanted.

Hadn't been what I wanted for a very long time now.

"So why'd you come by the station?" I asked. "Thought you were getting married this weekend."

Emily grinned.

"I am. At the end of the month," she answered. "I just wanted to make sure that you got the papers."

I nodded. "I did. But I told you I didn't need any money."

Emily rolled her eyes. "It wasn't my decision to give it to you."

I sighed, my eyes going back to the bar area once again when I saw movement out of the corner of my eyes.

I watched as Masen moved, hugging around the pole that led to the bar and crouching down until she could sneak out the pick-up door.

Then I turned in my seat so I could watch her walk to her Jeep.

The same Jeep that she'd had for a very long time now.

And it looked it.

"She's leaving," Emily told me helpfully.

I turned around and glared at Emily.

"She sure is. Would you look at that?" I teased.

Emily stuck her tongue out.

"Now, let's discuss money."

"You're a dumbass," Aaron said, rolling his head in my direction to glare at me.

"Why?" I asked.

"You're wondering why she ran out of there when you were having dinner with your ex-wife. You don't think that would be something that would be cause to upset her?" He asked stiffly.

"Well, Masen thinks that Emily is my wife. And I didn't correct her misconceptions," I answered reluctantly.

Aaron raised his brow.

"You're a dick, you know that?" He asked.

I shrugged. "I don't care."

"Yeah, you do. Which is what I never understood. You loved her more than life, and there is no way that you would've taken her dismissal of you unless you were secretly wanting to leave her, too," Aaron added.

My jaw tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Aaron laughed, causing a grimace of pain to flicker over his face.

Aaron had been injured badly in an accident causing burns that covered nearly half of his body.

It took up the majority of his left side.

One side was perfect unmarred flesh, and the other was mottled with ugly, unhealed skin.

My brother, though, was a fucking survivor, and I had no doubt that he'd make it back to his old self.

His burns were in that gross stage where they were starting to heal. His skin flaked off in clumps here and there, and he looked a tad bit grotesque.

"You do know what I'm talking about," Aaron said. "You're just refusing to acknowledge it and letting her take all the blame. It's the same thing I've been telling you for years."

I sat back in my chair and stewed.

He was right.

I had been, perhaps, at least partially responsible for the entire thing.

But I wouldn't be taking all of the blame.

She was the one to put the entire thing into motion. It was me, however, who refused to run after her.

At least not until two years later, and I'd fucked up that night, too.

I'd received a call in the middle of the night from my CO asking me if I wanted to join a different company who'd just lost their medic. I'd done that twice before, but this time was different. This time it was during combat, and the company was pinned down in a remote village in the outskirts of our patrol.

I'd taken him up on the offer, my mind going into work mode, not thinking about what I was doing until I was in the air with nothing else to do but think about what I'd just done.

However, it didn't stop me from doing my job.

What I loved.

"What are you doing here, baby?" My mom broke into my thoughts, making me look up.

Her and my stepdad were standing in the hospital room door, both with huge smiles on their faces.

"I'm sneaking Aaron in some beer," I told them the truth.

They'd think I was joking, but I wasn't.

I'd snuck in three beers in my coat pockets and had buried them in a urinal of ice next to the sink.

A clean urinal, but a urinal nonetheless.

"Oh, Booth," my mom laughed. "What are y'all talking about?"

"Masen," Aaron said.

My mother's head snapped towards him, then turned to me.

"What about Masen?" Bill asked.

"He was telling me that he saw her today at the fire station," Aaron said.

"You just started yesterday," my mom said. "How'd she know you were there already?"

"She didn't. They were having a bake sale to help fund this bozo," I said, pointing at Aaron with my thumb. "She baked some cookies."

"She baked?" My mom giggled.

I grinned myself.

Masen really couldn't bake. In fact, she was more of what one would call a 'burner.'

She burned everything, even when she was actively trying not to burn it.

Literally.

I was scared to even look at her cookies.

"Yeah, she baked. Guess we'll see about how those cookies come out. It's a small town, there's bound to be talk about them," I teased.

Aaron made a low sound of agreement in his throat, and I stood up to offer him my hand.

"I'll get out of your hair. But I'll be back tomorrow so don't think you're off the hook," I tilted my head in the direction of the chess game we'd been playing.

Aaron smiled and gave me a thumb's up with his good hand.

"See you tomorrow," he said.

My parents followed me out, and we stopped just outside the closed door.

"How do you think he's doing?" My mother asked me.

I looked at her, studying the worry etched on her face, and shrugged. "He talks a good game. But I know this is affecting him greatly. We're going to have to keep an eye on him. This isn't going to be an easy road for him," I admitted.

My mother sighed and my stepfather gathered her into his side.

"Will you keep an eye on our house while we're gone?" He asked.

I nodded. "Mom already asked, and I will," I agreed.

"Good," he said, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. "This is the boat we'll be on, and where we're leaving port from. Call us if anything interesting happens or if you need to talk."

I nodded and took the piece of paper and offered him my hand.

"Have a good time," I ordered.

My mother hugged me.

"I think you should talk to her," she whispered into my ear.

I leaned back with a grimace.

"I'll see what I can do, Ma. But I'm not making any promises," I replied teasingly.

My mom rolled her eyes.

"When have you ever 'made any promises?'"

I grinned.

"It's easier to do it that way, then you're not breaking promises," I responded cheekily.

My mother smacked me on the arm.

"Go home and mow your lawn. It needs it," she ordered.

After saluting her, I left.

Then I mowed my lawn.

Why? Because my mother told me to, that's why.

Chapter 4.