Remember When (Teach Me Book 3) Read online

  “Miller Emerson Vaughn,” came her instant reprimand for his language.

  His eyes flew open, finger pointed at her. “No.” His voice was a near growl. “No. You don’t get to scold me over language when you … you—” His voice cracked and he broke off, swiveling away to face the windows overlooking the ocean.

  Shaking his head, his words were steely. “I can’t even look at you right now. You knew. You knew how much I loved Tate. That I planned to propose after getting my Trident. You. Knew.”

  Miller heard his mother clear her throat and there was a beat of silence before she spoke. “Miller, I’m sorry.”

  He huffed loudly in disgust at her pathetic apology. But just when he was about to call her out on it, she decided to drop another bomb and rock his world.

  “Miller, I’m sorry. That’s why I’m here. To make amends. Because I … because I’m dying.”

  Tate,

  Yeah, I’m writing, again. Like a pathetic dumbass. It just gets stashed in the back of my pack. Not like I’m planning on slapping a stamp on it and mailing this shit off. Hell, sometimes I don’t even know why I’m writing still.

  We nearly lost one of our guys today. Just thinking about it now gives me the chills. A kid who couldn’t have been more than ten years old aimed a fucking RPG at Shaw. Luckily, Doc took him out. It’s like a completely different world over here. And not a better one. It’s almost like what I’d imagine hell would be like, sometimes. People who have no souls, who would love to kill us just to hold our bloody heads up like trophies afterward.

  It’s times like these that I miss you. No, that’s not right. I miss the girl I used to know. The one who supposedly loved me. If that was even true. I think of your laugh. God, your laugh was the greatest. Just thinking about it now makes me smile.

  Why, T? Why?

  I hate that my heart misses you.

  M.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  TATE WASN’T SURE HOW SHE had managed to make it through teaching her classes, but she had. Luckily, she had a wonderful group of students this year. Well, with the exception of two students but, hey, that went with the territory.

  She still felt thrown off kilter—and pretty raw—after her encounter with Miller the previous day. She should have known better than to mention anything about their past. It had just sort of poured out of her as she was curled up on his lap, feeling so secure in his embrace, telling him about her parents.

  And then he went and basically called her a liar. Miller was so intent on believing she had been the one who had bailed on them, on their relationship, when in fact, she had stuck with writing him letters for nearly an entire year. Because she had been stupid enough to think that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t truly been finished with her like his mother had claimed. And so she’d continued to write. Of course, she had never heard back from him.

  Tate still recalled the final letter she had mailed, remembered her own cynical laugh as she had tossed it in the mailbox, knowing it would come right back to her within a few days. That letter had been full of a mixture of pain, love, sadness, and anger.

  But, when she had received it back from the post office and tucked it away with the others, she’d made herself push those memories to recesses of her mind—and heart—to the best of her ability. She knew she couldn’t continue living in the past. And her past had contained more pain and sadness than one person should ever experience. One thing was certain, though. There had been something—she still wasn’t sure what that actually was—which had prevented her from getting rid of those letters.

  After deciding to transfer down to the University of South Alabama, finishing out her Bachelor’s degree, she’d been hired on at a nearby school and had stayed in that area for two more years—long enough to go back and acquire her Master’s degree. Deciding that Mobile, Alabama was just not where she was meant to settle, she had decided to apply for teaching positions in the area surrounding Fernandina Beach, and had been hired on at her current school. It had been one of the best decisions she’d ever made as it had brought her friends into her life.

  Pulling her car into her driveway after work, she exhaled loudly, relieved at being home and finished with her work day. Trudging up the steps to her door, she unlocked and entered, closing it, leaning against it with a sigh. Leaving her bag at the door and keys on the entryway table, Tate slid her heels off onto the mat beside the door and padded through the house in search of something to eat. Just as her hand grasped the handle of the refrigerator, there was a knock at the door.

  “This had better not be those door-to-door vacuum cleaner guys again,” she muttered to herself. Those guys took forever to get a clue that she wasn’t going to shell out three hundred bucks for a vacuum. She was a teacher, for God’s sake. That three hundred dollars could go toward supplies for her classroom, rewards for her students, or—oh, wait—bills.

  Cautiously opening the door, she felt her entire body freeze when she saw who was standing before her. Without more than a second’s worth of hesitation, she started closing the door. “Nope. Not interested.”

  One strong forearm shot out, fingers splayed on the door to stop its movement. “Tate, wait. Please.”

  Leaning all her weight against the door was futile. She was one hundred twenty pounds soaking wet and Miller … well, he had over a hundred pounds on her. And that was pure muscle. Which meant the door didn’t budge in the direction she wanted it to.

  At all.

  “Damn it, Vaughn.” She hated the sound of defeat in her voice. “Please, just go away.” She laid her head against the door, eyes closed. She couldn’t do this again.

  “I’m not here to fight with you, T,” Miller spoke softly. “I came to apologize.”

  Her eyes flew open in surprise. He came to apologize?

  “Please, can I just come in for a minute?”

  Closing her eyes, wondering if she were an absolute moron for considering it, she thudded her head softly against the door.

  “Please?”

  Oh, God. His plea, spoken in a near whisper, made her cave. Blowing out a loud breath, she swung open the door the remainder of the way. Pointing at him, she attempted to maintain the upper hand.

  “One minute, Vaughn. But if you accuse me of lying once more, you’re outta here. Got it?”

  His lips twitched and she knew he was fighting a smile. Knew she posed absolutely no threat to this tough former SEAL.

  “Promise.”

  Huffing out a breath at his acquiescent response, she turned to walk toward the living room, leaving Miller to close the door behind him and follow. Sitting on the far end of her couch, she watched as he approached the couch before abruptly turning, beginning to pace back and forth. Appearing agitated, running his hands through his hair, mussing it, he finally spoke.

  “I owe you an apology, Tate. And the shitty part about it is that I don’t know how the hell to truly apologize to you.” He stopped a few feet away from where she sat, blue eyes staring imploringly at her. “Because I don’t know how one goes about telling the person they loved years ago, the person they thought had completely abandoned them, that they had it all wrong.”

  His eyes fell closed as if he were in pain, and she watched as he fisted his hands in his hair a moment before his eyes opened and his gaze focused on her again.

  “Tate. I stayed up all night reading those letters. Every. Single. Fucking. Letter. Every letter that I never received. Never read. Never had the chance to read because someone stole that from me.”

  Tate felt her brows furrow in confusion, but when she opened her mouth to ask him for clarification, he stopped her with a raised palm.

  “Wait. Please.” When she nodded, he continued. “I went through my training, went through BUD/S thinking you’d ditched me. I figured it was an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ scenario. That you’d lied when you’d said you loved me. That you’d wait, that you’d be there for me when I was finished with training.”

  Miller’s eyes
filled with pain, regret as he shook his head. “I was under the impression you were finished with me. And,” he paused, swallowing thickly before continuing, “it was my mother’s fault.”

  He squatted down in front of her. “Tate, I never would have done that to you. I never would’ve left it to my own mother to tell you I wanted out of our relationship.” His eyes held hers, gaze so intense, imploring her to believe him. “I didn’t want out. I never did.” He gave a humorless laugh, shaking his head sadly. “That was the last thing I wanted, T. The very last thing.”

  Tate’s hand flew to her mouth, barely covering her anguished cry at his revelation.

  Miller reached out to grasp her other hand, thumb stroking her wrist over her rapidly beating pulse. “I’m sorry, Tate. For making you feel like I threw you away, for causing you pain, for making you cry. For … everything. And I realize that’s a really shitty apology, but it’s an honest one.”

  She looked into his eyes, seeing the boy she had once loved with her whole being. Before she could voice her acceptance of her apology, he startled her by quickly standing.

  “There’s someone else who wants to—and needs to—apologize. Hold on a minute.” With that, Miller was out the door before she could offer a response of any kind.

  There was someone else who was going to apologize to her? Tate couldn’t fathom who else would need to apologize to her. Unless, of course, it was Miller’s mother. But, no. From what Tate remembered of the woman, she was definitely not the type to apologize. To anyone. So who on earth could it—

  Her head swiveled when she heard the front door open, waiting to see who would walk down the hallway to where she was seated. She watched as Miller approached, heard footsteps behind him but couldn’t see past his broad form. Until he came into the living room and stepped aside.

  It was in that moment that Tate was thankful for having taken a seat on the couch. Because the woman who stood before her had nearly knocked the breath out of her. Sure, this woman certainly resembled Miller’s mother. Except, as Tate allowed her eyes to take in the woman’s full appearance, she knew right then that this wasn’t the same woman she knew all those years ago.

  This was Miller’s mother, but the darkness in her eyes and her frail form confirmed the truth.

  Mrs. Vaughn was dying.

  * * *

  Miller felt like there was a huge lump in his throat as he watched his mother approach Tate. Observing Tate, he saw the look of realization on her face as she took in his mother’s frail form. Knew she recognized that his mother was dying.

  When his mother had dropped that bomb on him yesterday, he’d felt like punching through the sliding glass doors of the house. And, it hadn’t gotten any better from there, that much was certain.

  She had confessed to sabotaging his relationship with Tate all those years ago. Had believed he had been too young and starry-eyed to settle down with Tate. Back then, his mother had promised him she would pack up anything Tate sent for him along with a few “goodies” she would pick out for him, package it up and ship it to him once he had gotten to a point in his training where he was permitted to receive mail. Instead, she had taken it upon herself to ensure Tate’s letters were returned, and the grand finale—which had felt like she had stuck a knife straight into his heart—had been her admission that she had told Tate he hadn’t wanted to be with her any longer. The night Tate had stopped by the house. That same night Tate had lost her parents.

  It made him want to rip his hair out to think that when Tate needed him the most, when she had lost her parents, he hadn’t been there for her. Yes, he had been in training, but for God’s sake, he would’ve called or written to her as soon as he had the opportunity. Without a shadow of doubt, he would have been there for her. But he was robbed of that, had been robbed of all these years with her because of the woman standing beside him.

  His mother had told him about the cancer, that it was spreading so rapidly that the doctors had recently given a prognosis of barely two months. He’d held her as she had cried and apologized to him for what she had done. Then, they had all sat around the dining room table and he, his mother, and Kane had splurged on Kane’s famous brownies as they read Tate’s letters one by one. By the end of it, Miller wasn’t sure any of them had managed to make it through reading Tate’s words without wiping away any tears. Of course, he and Kane had been discreet, but there was no mistaking the sniffling which had occurred.

  His mother had clearly been exhausted by the time they finished with the letters but she had wanted to stay up and chat with him. He couldn’t understand why she hadn’t discussed the cancer diagnosis with him earlier. She claimed she hadn’t wanted to worry him, thinking that the chemo and radiation would work. When it hadn’t, when things had gotten worse, she began to truly evaluate her life, her options.

  That was when she had made the decision to fly down to see him and come clean about what she had done. She wanted to make things right. But, even she hadn’t expected Tate to have crossed his path again. She hadn’t known that Tate lived in the same area, let alone just a mile or so down the road from him.

  “Tate.” His mother’s voice drew him back to the present and he watched as she wrung her hands in nervousness. “I won’t ever be able to put into words how much I regret lying to you that day.”

  His mother took a deep breath and Miller watched as her lips pressed together, a combination of remorse and self-reproach in her tone as she spoke. “I was a lonely, bitter woman who was afraid my son would marry you and there wouldn’t be any room left in his life for me. I felt threatened and couldn’t see past my own fears, past my own selfishness. I realize it’s much too late and I’ve caused you both so much heartache, but I hope that you might be able to eventually forgive me.”

  What happened in the next moment, Miller knew he would never forget, knew that it would be forever etched in his mind. Because, just then, Tate stood from the couch, took the two small steps separating herself and his mother, and wrapped his mother in her embrace.

  When his eyes met Tate’s glistening ones as she held his sobbing mother close, running a soothing hand up and down the older woman’s back, his heart stuttered. It was in that moment he knew.

  His heart still ached for Tate Elaine Donnelly.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “SO,” KANE BEGAN, AS THE two of them were heading back to the office after their final training at the Jacksonville International Airport, “this has been an interesting past few days, huh?”

  “You could say that,” Miller remarked drily. They had dropped his mother off at that very same airport this morning so she could catch yet another flight. This one would be to south Texas to check in to be treated under a doctor there who had become renowned for curing cancer patients without chemotherapy or radiation, but with a particular diet and supplements. He had been skeptical when she had mentioned it to him, but his mother had been firm in her decision, stating that it was her last ditch effort since nothing else had worked.

  She had hugged him tightly as they said their good-byes and Kane had even wrapped her in his large embrace, whispering something to her which made her giggle like a little schoolgirl. Damn Windham and his sweet-talking, Southern charm.

  “You going to tell me what you were saying when you whispered sweet nothings in my mother’s ear this morning?” He glanced over to the passenger seat to see his friend grinning from ear to ear.

  “It’s eating you up inside, isn’t it?” Kane cocked his head and lowered his voice, taking on a mysterious tone. “Wondering what on earth I could have whispered in that beautiful woman’s ear that made her blush and giggle.”

  “Windham.” His tone was stern, full of warning.

  It didn’t faze Kane in the slightest. “Vaaaaauuuuuughn,” he drawled, dragging out the words.

  Silence hung between them before Kane finally spoke. “Fine. I told her to hurry up and get healthy because she was too much of a beauty to be letting cancer win.” Slight pause. �
�And I may have given her the teensiest ol’ tap on the behind.”

  Miller stared at him in disbelief. “You what?”

  “Eyes on the wheel! Ten and two. Ten. And. Two.” Kane waved his hand at Miller. “It was nothing, dude.”

  Miller shook his head in disgust. “You touched my mother’s ass. That’s hardly nothing.”

  “She’s a beautiful woman. I like women and they like me. No harm done.”

  Miller stared straight ahead as he drove on I-95 heading up to the Fernandina Beach exit. Jaw clenched tight, he attempted to ignore Kane.

  “What ended up happening with you and Tate? Now that you got that mess cleared up.”

  “Nothing happened. She and my mom spent some time talking before we finally left to come back to the house. I’ve been busy with work and spending time with her while she was here.”

  “Huh.” Pause. “Do you at least have some sort of a game plan?”

  Furrowing his brow, Miller asked, “Game plan?”

  Kane expelled a loud sigh. “Seriously, Vaughn. You slay me sometimes. Yes, a game plan. You need to make sure things are resolved between you two. So that y’all can move on to the fun stuff.”

  “Fun stuff?”

  “Vaughn, Vaughn, Vaughn. Yes, fun stuff. Like making out, dry humping, full-fledged sex up against a wall or on the kitchen counter. Stuff like that.”

  “Dry humping? Really, dude?” He tossed his friend a look.

  Kane shrugged. “Hey, sometimes that can be hot. Anyway, you need to move on to the fun stuff so you can stop furiously masturbating all the time.”

  “Windham,” he growled, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

  “You think I don’t hear what goes on in your bedroom? How about this? ‘Oh, Tate. Oh, fuuuuck. I’m coming.’”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Fucking thin ass walls.

  Kane laughed at the look of dismay on his face. “Kind of hot. Never took you for a vocal sex participant.”