Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“You’ve always been Mark to me,” Isaiah said quietly because it seemed to matter. “And Mark’s enough.”
“I know. And I appreciate that. So much.” Mark took a deep breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I don’t trust easily. If there’s something medical that needs doing, I’m going to be the one, no question. I rely on my buddies to keep me safe, but I’m the one I trust the most. And after my parents died, it was even easier to completely throw myself into the job, into the myth that I was in control. It was easier than facing my grief and my guilt and the knowledge that probably nothing could have kept my dad from flying that plane. I keep guys safe every day, but I couldn’t save the people I loved the most. That hurt.”
“I know.” Isaiah scooted closer. “But it wasn’t your fault. Not your parents’ deaths. Not Cal’s and Danielle’s. You’re right, there’s nothing you could have done. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t suck. And trying to be the myth, 24/7, that’s hard, man. You can’t keep that kind of control up.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m realizing. But it’s hard to give up that illusion of control. Harder still to trust someone else to take point on something critical. So when Cal and Dani died, it didn’t even occur to me that someone else could be in charge. It just seemed natural that it was up to me to save the situation. When they told me the news, I just...knew that the kids were my responsibility from that moment on. And sure I could delegate, the same way I do during a mission, but the ultimate responsibility was mine.”
“You’re great in an emergency. But not every day can be code red or whatever, Mark. You can’t live your life on high alert. And you can’t control everything. Sometimes, even, it’s good to share responsibility.” He’d really come to see that in the past week himself, getting his dad and others involved. It was infinitely easier than when it was him versus the world, and he wished Mark could see the same thing.
“I’m figuring that out. But before I figured out about sharing the burden, I had the worst reaction to seeing you with the kids when I first got here.”
“Oh?” Isaiah was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like this.
“I... I saw how good you were with them. How they loved you. How you were re-arranging your life for them. And I... I wanted it to be you. I wanted the will to give you guardianship, so that I could go back to being Wizard, back to the myth I’d built up for myself, and I hated that about myself. Felt like I was running from responsibility. And I don’t run. And when Dani’s will said me, it felt like I’d let her down if I gave voice to that want. It was my job, plain and simple. No passing it off to someone else, even if part of me really wanted to.”
“It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”
“I get that. Now. But you gotta understand where I’m coming from here. I’ve never had a partnership. Not really. I loved my parents, but they had their lives and we kids had ours. And their marriage was hardly a blueprint for a functional partnership. Ditto Cal and Danielle. She and I were friends, once upon a time, but then she discovered her crowd in junior high school, left me far behind.”
Creak. The box where Isaiah had hidden his heart cracked open, a sliver of light coming in, as he ached for the kid that Mark had been. They’d been so much alike when it came down to it, learning to be self-reliant, not let others in.
Mark continued, “My swim buddy rang out second week of BUD/S. I’ve trusted my teammates, but we’ve never been partners. So then there’s you. For whom I’m Mark, not Wizard, no myth to hide behind. And you tell me you want me to trust you. And I just...couldn’t. Couldn’t give up that control. Couldn’t make myself vulnerable like that.”
“But I need you to.” Isaiah gave voice to the thoughts that he’d carried around all week. “If you respect me, you have to trust me. And maybe I’m a control freak too. I didn’t want to trust you back. Didn’t want to have to rely on you.”
“Maybe we needed each other.” Mark gave him a lopsided smile. “Maybe we needed each other to learn to trust. But maybe you figured that out a little faster than me.”
“Not sure about that,” Isaiah admitted. “I told you we should work together, but I was still insistent that it had to be me in control. Sharing that control is some scary shit. I wasn’t exactly open to trust or compromise either.”