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“Thanks for coming to my house, Joe.”

The therapist smiled. “You’re welcome. Tell me what you’ve been doing since you were injured. Six days ago, right?”

“Yes.” Declan had his brothers move up a workout bench from the basement. He sat on one end, the PT on the other. “RICE.” Rest, ice, compression and elevation. “And some gentle movement and massage. That’s about all they did in Peru. Since I got home, I’ve been massaging the ligaments lightly.”

“Ah, the joys of treating a doctor.”

“We’ve also pushed the ankle forward, then taped it.”

“Who did that?”

“My brother’s a doctor.”

“Okay, take off the boot. I’ll show you some exercises you can do on the days with no PT. We’ll add more each time.” He gave a half-grin. “You probably know these.”

“I need your guidance to make sure I’m doing them right.”

The first was to sit on the edge of the bench and spell out the alphabet A-Z with your foot.

His brows raised. “I should go all the way through the alphabet?”

“We usually work up to that, but since you’ve done some therapy yourself, yeah, try the whole thing.”

By the time Dec got to M, he was breathing hard and his foot ached. “It hurts.”

“Then stop. Let’s try inversion and eversion of the foot.” Which was basically turning the foot in and out using a stretch band for resistance. This was harder than Declan thought it would be, especially after thirty reps.

“Next would be balance exercises,” Joe said, “but I think we’ll stay off the injured foot for today.”

“Damn, I researched what we’d be doing online. I thought I could start putting weight on that ankle.” This included standing on the injured foot for a few seconds, and gradually extending the time.

“No. And don’t try it on your own. You’re not ready yet.”

Frustrated, Declan reluctantly agreed.

“Now you’ll rest and elevate again.”

After Dec slid back onto the mattress, Joe wrapped his foot in the ice packs he’d brought in a cooler. Then the therapist sat on a chair and demonstrated some upper body exercises necessary to maintain tone and strength. He let Declan do arm and bicep curls while he was in bed. Since Dec worked out every day with weights, this would be a piece of cake.

But by the time Joe left, Declan was exhausted. Geez. During the therapy, he’d blanked his mind of all outside thoughts. But now, as he lay back against the pillow, he allowed what he’d done in that kitchen with Robert to come to the forefront. Lila would be pissed. He’d feel the same if the sides were reversed and she’d been so arrogant, so autocratic. Though Declan hadn’t planned what he’d done, he didn’t regret the macho stance he’d taken. He meant what he said. He was going to get his wife back!

Much calmer now, Lila said goodbye to the therapist. The hour Dec was in therapy gave her a chance to cool down. Still, she waited a bit before she went to the bedroom doorway. She found him reading some papers. And wearing glasses. He looked up when she knocked.

“Hi. I wasn’t sure you’d come in again.”

Arching a brow, she folded her arms across her chest. “I thought about that. I’m mad at you.”

A devilish look in his eyes. “You should be.”

“That’s a start.”

“I’m not sorry for what I said, though. I’m sorry you’re angry or hurt by it. But we have to talk.”

“Not now. I’m too pissed.”

He nodded to her clothes. “Going out?”

“To Pilates.”

“That’s new, isn’t it?”

“No. I counseled a group of women veterans. One of them owns a studio, and since we all hit it off, we do a class together. I hadn’t planned to attend today, but I changed my mind after what you did with Robert.”

“Ah.” She was getting out of Dodge, so to speak.

“Calla and Connor are coming over at noon, so you’ll only be alone for an hour or so.”

“I can keep Mags company.”

“Nate will get here in a few minutes. I think they might want to be alone.”

His brow furrowed. “Alone?”

“I assume so. He’s a nice, solid kid.”

“I’ll do my best to chaperone.”

“Don’t you dare do anything to embarrass her.”

“I won’t, I promise. Come closer for a minute.”

“No.”

“Come here, Delilah.”

He didn’t play fair. In the past, he’d used her full name when he was being macho. And sexy. She’d always been a sucker for that. Against her better judgment, she crossed to the bed. He yanked on her hand and she fell on top of him. Before she could scramble off, he took her mouth.

It felt so good to have his lips on hers again. To taste the man she’d loved for years. He opened his mouth and explored hers. The sexy dance made her go damp. Leaning into the kiss, she put her hand on his neck and pulled him closer.

God only knew how long it was before she moved away.

“There!” he said, smugly.

Scrambling off the bed, she smoothed down her hair. “I’m going. Behave for Connor.”

“I will. I’m in a much better mood now.”

“You can be a real brat.”

“That I can, darlin’.”

Nia Johnson’s studio was a second floor loft at a Zen Center about fifteen minutes away. Walls, ceilings and floors were made of warm oak, and the windows were skinny and long. Open now, they let in a cooling October breeze. Still, the air inside was tinted with incense.

Her friend looked up. A beautiful black woman, she wore her hair cropped short and curly. “Hey, girl. You weren’t supposed to be coming today.”

“I know. My plans changed. Long story why.”

“You can tell us in Talk Time.”

She referred to the aftermath of Pilates where they sat around at the studio or at a restaurant. Each of them could spill their guts about problems they were having, but the rest would be Fun Time. They discussed movies, food and even fashion.

“Hey, all,” Joanne Kramer said as she walked toward them. She was sturdily built with chin-length brown hair. As she got closer, the lines around her eyes and mouth told Lila that Joanne wasn’t all right today. “Lila, glad you showed up.”

Lila hugged her. “Me too. You need us right now?”

“No, it can wait.”

Marilyn Beck and Carrie Anthony were the last to arrive. Both were long-limbed blondes whose appearance disguised the soldier inside them. They were best friends and lived on the same street.

Nia began the instruction. “All right, let’s start with breathing. This will help you concentrate. No outside thoughts in Pilates. The goal is to use your body as the weight instead of machines. You have to focus if you want to do that.”

Lila took in air slowly.

“Let the breath enter your lungs in stages. First the abdomen. Then the stomach, then your lower lungs, your upper lungs. Now, release it.”

On breath number three, Lila thought of Declan on the bed today, pulling her over him, taking her mouth. The contact had been carnal. Shit.

“Now some stretches. Slowly raise your arms over your head...”

She followed along while she remembered the determined, confident expression on Declan’s face when he told Robert he was taking her back.

They’d just gotten on to the floor to start the poses when Joanne burst into tears. Everybody stopped. “I’m sorry,” she said between sobs. “I can’t make it till the end.”

Nia angled her chin to Lila and she took over. “Let’s sit in a circle.”

When they were all around her, Lila grasped Joanne’s hand. It was shaky and cold. “What’s going on, sweetie?”

“Patrick’s leaving me.” Her husband had been having a hard time accepting Jo’s PTSD, rooted in the fact that she’d been in Iraq and was captured for a time by the enemy. Female soldiers fared badly in that situation. She’d contacted Lila through the website, and had several private sessions.

“What did he say?” Carrie wanted to know. She’d been a full-time Marine.

“That I wasn’t the same person he married since I got back. That he didn’t sign up for this. Fuck it, like I signed up for what I got?”

“Go ahead and be angry,” Lila told her. “You went through hell. Did he give you a timeline?”

“No.”

“At least he didn’t just walk out.” This from Nia. Her boyfriend had done that to her because she wasn’t feminine enough. Men!

“Is he serious about this?” Lila asked.

Her eyes widened. “Why else would he tell me he wants to leave?”

“Because he might be frustrated. He might feel helpless. He might be erroneously trying to scare you out of what he doesn’t understand.”

“He did use the word helpless.”

“What do you want, Jo?” Marilyn was often quiet but asked insightful questions.

“I don’t want to break up.”

“Did you tell him that?” Lila prodded.

“No, I called him a real shit and walked out.”

The women exchanged glances.

“I guess I acted badly too. I was... I don’t know.”

“You were scared,” Carrie stated.

“It’s hard for me to admit that.”

“Understandable,” Lila told her.

Lila waited a bit, as she could tell Joanne had let off enough steam, aka, emotion, to feel better. Finally, Jo said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin our time together. Let’s get back to class.”

“Fuck class!” This from Carrie, who stood and offered a hand up to Marilyn. “Let’s go get a beer and talk.”

Everybody high fived. Man, she loved these women.

Connor sat by Dec’s bedside while Calla fixed them lunch. The room had two windows so a cross breeze aired out the space, assisted by a ceiling fan above. “So, now that Calla’s gone, how’s it really going?”

“I’m in more pain than I thought I’d be six days after a sprain.”

“A bad sprain, buddy. Severe for this kind of injury.” He frowned and picked up a bottle on the night table. “You taking these?”

“Not often.”

Con got up and walked into the bathroom, drew a glass of water, and came back in. He shook out a pill and handed it to his brother. “Here, take your medicine.”

Dec didn’t even bother to object. He was in pain, and he was stupid not to take the medication, even if it did make him sleepy.

“What did the PT say about your ankle?”

“To move around as much as possible with the crutches, but no weight bearing yet. I forgot when I reached from something in the fridge, bore down and almost went through the ceiling.”

“It’s hard moving around and being careful. Keep the crutches with you at all times.”

“I will.”

“So, how are things going with you and your nursemaid?”

“She’s been great. I couldn’t have done this without her.”

“She was brave when we found out you were missing, but she broke down with Whitney.”

“That’s so typical of Lila. Here, she’s a drill sergeant.”

“Huh. Nothing happening between you yet?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t kid me, bro. You two spending so much time together, sparks are bound to fly.”

Declan ducked his head.

“They have, already?”

“A bit. She slept here last night because she was upset about Maggie.”

“I thought she moved in here.”

“No, she slept here.” Declan patted the mattress.

“Oh, interesting.”

“And I kissed her this morning. She was mad at me and I always did that in the past when she was pissed.”

“Why was she mad?”

His brother explained about Robert.

“Wow, that didn’t take long.”

“You’ve been right all along. I want her back. I realized I did when I was in that mud pit.”

“I’m glad you’re admitting it, Dec.”

“Now, brother, let’s talk about you.”

Halfway through Connor’s second anecdote, Dec fell asleep and Con headed to the kitchen where he found Calla stirring something on the stove, holding her cell to her ear. Her hair was down her back, and she wore a pretty, full skirt with a peasant blouse. But her carriage was regal. He didn’t make his presence known yet, and listened to her conversation. “I know. Yes, I want that, too. But it will be up to Connor.”

Silence on her end as she listened then she said, “ Ti amo anche’io,” and disconnected.

Staring at her phone, she sighed heavily. He crept up behind her, slid his arms around her waist. She startled. Then turned.

Thinking about how Dec made Lila mad, he kissed her. It was slow, long and luscious. When she pulled away, he said, “Declan’s sound asleep. I’m sure we can find somewhere in this house that has a lock.”

“No way. You’ll wait till we get home. Besides, I want to tell you something. As long as Dec’s out, let’s do it now.”

They sat at a table. “Is it about the call? The person you said you love, too.” He was learning to speak Italian.

“Mamá and Papá FaceTimed me.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes. But I’m afraid to tell what they requested.”

“Afraid of what?”

“That it will open old wounds.”

He ran his hand down her hair. “I think I’m past all that.”

“Maybe not with this. But I’m just going to say it. They want their grandson to be born in Italy. His place of birth won’t affect his dual citizenship, because he’ll automatically have that with an American father. But a prince’s birth is a whole-country affair. All the people celebrate for a week.”

Connor felt a flicker of fear. Initially, he’d been afraid that if they had children, Calla could take them to Europe and he wouldn’t be able to get his kids back.

She must have seen his reaction. “I knew you shouldn’t have torn the prenup our lawyers made for you.”

When she’d come back to him, she’d made a prenup to prevent her from taking their kids to Casarina without his consent. Instead of signing it, he’d ripped it to pieces, ready to trust her.

“No matter. We can make another legal document.”

Connor pulled on her hand and plunked her onto his lap. “We aren’t going to make another document. I don’t need it. I promise. That reaction was just a residual insecurity.”

She looped her arms around his neck. “Thank you, love. Do you understand why he wants this to happen?”

“Yes. But what do you want?”

She bit her lip. “I want that, too, Connor. Only if you agree.”

“Well, my parents won’t be happy, but I think they’ll understand.”

“No, Mamá has worked that out, too. If we agree, she plans to call Deirdre and invite her and Tony over to Casarina to wait for the birth. They would stay in the palace guest house.”

“Those royals, they think of everything.”

“And then we’ll send the jet for your siblings to come as soon as he’s born, or as soon as they can get away.”

“I think that will work, babe.” He grinned. “Now kiss me for being so adult about this.”

She leaned forward and put her mouth on his. They stopped only when the door to the garage opened and Lila walked through it.

“Ah, young love,” she said, smiling.

“It’s great.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Dec and Lila spent some time with the girls before Trish was to arrive. Then the twins wanted to play with the dogs in their rooms, and Maggie went upstairs to wait for the therapist. Lila and Declan headed out to the back of the house and sat at a picnic table under a tree, near the playset left by the previous owners.

Propping his foot up on the bench and seated in a chair, Declan stared at the swings and jungle gym. “Remember when the girls were little. Who knew that age would be so much easier?”

“I never expected any of this to happen to our family.”

“Mags is better, though, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Trish will tell us today if she can go back to the dorms.”

“Aren’t we going to get a session with them?”

“I think Maggie needs a counselor to herself for a while. Our time will come.”

“Are you dreading it?”

“Because she’ll say negative things about us?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I know in my heart that me leaving three years ago will be front and center.”

“And me going on missions.”

She lifted her face to the dying sun, and let the rays soak in. Then she looked at him. “Let’s make a deal, Dec. We know at least some of what brought her to this place, which we’ll work with. But let’s try to concentrate on the positive things about her and our family.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“Now, we have to talk about what’s happening between us.”

He tried to relax his shoulders, but this was important. “You already know my position on that. I want you back, lock, stock and barrel. I told Robert that and I’m telling you outright.”

“Why, Dec?”

He grasped onto her hand. She let him. “I’ve never gotten over you. All it took was a few weeks in your company to make me admit that. I’ve been fighting my feelings for three years and I’m not going to do it anymore.”

“The same problems still exist.”

“Before we go further, look me in the eyes and tell me directly if you do or don’t feel the same way.”

She held his gaze. Sighed. Then said, “I do. But I’m not sure that matters. We didn’t work out the first time around.”

“Of course it matters. And I don’t think the same things apply now. I’m here in D.C. and I’ll stay, I promise. You can do anything you want in your job.”

He saw temper spike in her eyes and she took back her hand. “You came here for your family, not for me. You wouldn’t do this for me. I’m not over that.”

“I’m so sorry, love. I made a mistake three years ago. I should have come with you then. Can you accept my regret, my apology, so we can go on from here?”

 “I’m not sure. I’ll try to.” She looked up at the cloudless sky. “Whitney said I need some counseling. Maybe I could talk about that.”

“Maybe we could go together.”

“Still, there are other people to consider in a decision to try again.”

“The kids, Maggie especially.”

“And Robert.”

His whole body stiffened. “Don’t tell me you’re considering staying in that relationship after what you just said!”

“Probably not. I realized when he asked me to marry him I didn’t love him like that, or enough, maybe.”

“He asked you to marry him?” Declan practically growled the remark. “When the hell did that happen?”

“Just after you came to town.”

“What did you say?”

“That I’d think about it.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Hell.”

“Dec, I’m most likely not going to marry him. But I need time. With all that’s happened here, I’m confused. And I have responsibilities to him. He texted me and I’m seeing him this week to talk.”

“I’m not ready to send you back to him.”

“This is my decision. What did you expect? That I’d run happily into your arms without thinking about its effect on other people’s lives?”

“Maybe. If you want a new one for us.”

“I owe him. Give me space to determine how to deal with this.”

“So long as you don’t make love with him.”

“You have no r—”

“Promise me, babe.”

She didn’t look torn at all. Why was she being so stubborn? “All right. I won’t make love with either of you.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“Take it or leave it.”

“I don’t see that I have a choice.”

Her face softened. “Actually, I’m more concerned about Maggie. She’s so fragile, I’m not sure she can handle us giving this another try. What if we fail?”

“We are not going to fail again. But you’re right about the rest. I don’t think she should have to deal with our issues, in the midst of trying to understand her own. But I want to know you’ll work on our relationship and we’ll tell her when the time is right.”

“After I talk to Robert.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Declan, stop! Give me room to maneuver here. I need it.”

“I’ll give you room, reluctantly. But you’d better choose me.”

“We’ll see.”

Maggie sat her desk in her room, waiting for Trish. Her pencil broke as she was doing a word problem in math, so she pulled open the drawer to find a pen. Instead, she discovered a stack of letters written on the stationery Aunt Whitney had bought her.

She lifted them out. They were tied together with a ribbon. She recognized her mother’s handwriting right away. Maggie’s hands started to shake. After a while, she took out the first one and ran her fingers across the pretty parchment. Then she unfolded the letter:

Dear Maggie,

I’m staying in your room now and have been thinking of you. I’m going to start writing you notes about when you were little because I feel like you don’t understand some things. And because you always seem so sad.

As you’ve probably heard, you were a bit of a surprise when we found out you were coming. But now, I can’t imagine my life without you. And when you were born, it was a halcyon day: Dad was ecstatic and wanted to hold you all the time and I was enthralled. Did you know I nursed you until you were a year old? As you’ll discover someday, there’s nothing more intimate than giving sustenance to a child. That in itself was a miracle.

Maggie’s vision blurred. Her mother had known how she felt? Or just discovered it recently. Did when even matter?

She reread the words and the rest of the missive. Could Maggie have been wrong about her view of her parents’ feelings?

The next three letters recounted the things they’d done together through the years. But they weren’t the big stuff like Disney and the beach vacations. Instead she told of taking Maggie to the park and playing with her in the huge sandbox, of the two of them making ice cream and eating too much, of going to a popular Disney movie and letting Maggie hold a popcorn tub almost as big as her lap.

The last letter spoke about why she left them. Maggie got a paragraph in and started to cry. Her mother thought her father would go with her. Then he said no. She tried to take Maggie and the girls, but Maggie’s guidance counselor had recommended against moving and her father put his foot down about staying in Lakeville. Finally, she really believed they’d come down soon. Dear God, Maggie hadn’t known any of that.

A knock on the door. Then it opened. “Hi, Maggie. Your mother said to come up.”

Maggie looked up at Trish.

“Why are you crying?”

She held up the letters.

Squatting down, Trish asked, “Who are they from?”

“M-my mother.”

“Do you want to talk about them?”

Maggie said, “Yes.”

They were sitting in the living room when Trish came downstairs. The counselor seemed preoccupied. Her eyes were tired and she was tense. Tough sessions were brutal on clients but also for the therapist.

“How’d it go?” Lila asked.

“There’s been some progress.” She sank onto a chair across from them. “Even before she found your letters.”

“Oh. I forgot about those since everything else went down.”

“What letters?” Declan asked.

“I, um, wrote some letters to her when I stayed in her room those times when you needed me to cover.”

“About what?”

“About how I loved her, how I felt about her.”

Trish added, “And about how you wanted her.”

Lila felt her eyes moisten. “So I was right. She overheard my reaction all those years ago when I discovered I was pregnant with the twins.”

“She didn’t mention that,” Trish told her. “She did feel unwanted. But I’m not sure it’s from what you said, or at least only because of that.”

Lila came to the edge of her seat. “Tell us what to do, Trish.”

“She and I need formal counseling sessions in my office. That will give us a neutral place to discuss her issues. She’s agreed. I set the first up for Friday because Maggie should have a bit of a break from all this. And she can go back to campus. In my opinion, she isn’t suicidal. Cutters rarely are. Now she needs space.”

“Can we talk with her about this?”

“You all have to talk with each other about everything.” She focused on Dec. “Your missions are another area to discuss.”

“We will. But it’s a moot point. I already called Colonel Marx. I’m resigning my post.”

“You are?” This from Lila.

“Yes. Mags and I have talked about what those missions did to her more than once. If this is what she needs, I’ll give it to her. Not leaving home will be better for the twins, too.”

“Do you think our service to our country did her a lot of damage, Trish?” Lila asked.

“We’ll discuss that. My opinion is in some ways, yes, some ways no.”

“This is incredible.” Lila’s voice was hoarse, sad.

“You two have to be strong now. As much as you can, don’t let your guilt, your past actions affect how you handle her issues. You’re the adults. You have to be there for her.”

Declan grabbed Lila’s hand. “We will. We promise.”