I bent low over the engine, staring at it without really seeing it. The anger boiling up was darkly hot and indignant. But it’s not fair! People might not understand it but we had something together, against all the odds, we worked. He got my weirdness and I saw that he was more than his reputation. We should just tell JD and the hell with the consequences!

I could feel Danny watching me. I glanced up and, when I saw the pain in his eyes, I softened. He was terrified that he was going to lose his best friend. But I could see the concern there too. He really cared about me. Enough that he’d lose JD, if I asked him to.

I couldn’t do that. I could see the way the two of them felt about each other. Military men form unbreakable bonds, stronger than brothers, and they’d served together for years. And I couldn’t do it to JD, either. He’d lost his wife and child, he needed Danny at least as much as Danny needed JD.

An endless gray emptiness opened up inside me and it made me flail and panic, a last-minute urge to grab him and cling onto all that warm solidness. I can’t lose him!

Stupid, I told myself, furious. You’ve only known him a few days. Grow up!

I nodded, letting him know that I agreed. That it was our decision, not just his. Then I turned back to the engine. “Looks like the starter motor isn't getting any power,” I said, my voice raspy. I could feel that wonderful feeling of safety I’d had in his arms dissolving like smoke and when it was gone, it ached so bad I couldn’t speak for a moment. I was suddenly alone again, naked and vulnerable in this immense world, and it was so much worse now that I knew what I was missing. Without looking up, I held out my hand. “Can you pass me the big flathead screwdriver?”

A moment later, I felt the plastic handle press into my palm. But when I took the screwdriver, it wouldn’t move. He was keeping hold of it until I looked at him.

I reluctantly looked up and saw the question in his eyes. Are you okay?