“Here we go.” Sam held out a white, oval pill and a bottle of water.

“No,” I denied. “Over. A month.”

Her eyes softened for a heartbeat, and then she was steel again. “Yep, so this time we’ll push for two months between. We set the goals we can attain, remember?”

She thrust the offering my way and waited for me to decide. She gave me power in a moment I had none.

I swallowed the pill. It took half the bottle of water to get it down my throat, but it was in. A small brown paper bag appeared next. I grasped it with two hands, brought it to my face, and began breathing.

“There we go,” Sam said softly. “You just breathe and wait for the meds to kick in. What the hell did you do?” That last part wasn’t aimed at me.

“I’m deploying.”

Sam drew back and her wide eyes flew to mine, interrupted by my paper bag every few seconds as it expanded. “Oh, Morgan.”

“It’s not the same, Sam.”

“To her, it is.”

They both fell silent as I breathed like it was my full-time job. For the last four months, it had been. How had I only lived here for four months? Is that really how long I’d known Jackson? God, and I was already so far gone that I was breathing through a paper bag. This wouldn’t be the only time he deployed. This was who he was.

Slowly, my breathing returned to normal and the buzzing faded in my head. My throat was still constricted, but that would pass once the meds kicked in. Not that it mattered because I’d be asleep soon after that.

I dropped the bag to the floor and sat with my head against the wall, arching my neck. “You should go.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got her, Sam,” Jackson said softly.

“No.” I lowered my head and found him watching me. Beautiful, kind, magnetic, head over heels in love with me—and a loaded freaking gun when it came to my mental health. “You should go, Jackson.”

“Morgan?” His eyes flared.

“Go. This isn’t going to get any better the more we talk about it.” My heart screamed in protest. “I need you to go.”

He warred with himself, with my words. It was all over his face. “Okay. I need to talk to Fin. And Claire. Shit. Okay. I’ll come by for breakfast tomorrow?”

Quick cuts were better. I shook my head. “No. I need you to go for good.”

“This is not over. This is…I don’t know what this is because it’s not a fight. This is a blip on the radar, Kitty.” Agony. That was the only way to describe the look in his eyes and the rending of those stitches in my heart.