At that she finally looked up at him. Her aquamarine eyes were shadowed, her face a stoic mask and for one insane moment he wanted to rip it away and see beneath it to the woman he’d once loved with everything in him. “Why are you doing this?” she finally asked.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you’d been wounded?” he countered.

“Because I didn’t think it was serious enough to say anything under the circumstances.”

“Well it is. You don’t know what kind of damage is underneath there, and no one will until the X-rays come back.”

She broke eye contact, training her gaze on the linoleum floor. “Just can’t see why you’d bother, since you’ve made it crystal clear you want nothing to do with me and can barely stand the sight of me.”

Only because he hadn’t been willing to endure the pain of seeing her and knowing she was no longer his. “Yeah, well, today I’ll make an exception,” he said, more curtly than he’d intended.

Honor met his eyes again and he wasn’t proud of the hurt he saw in hers. Regretting his choice of words and tone he quickly changed the subject. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

She shook her head and shifted her hand on the fresh gauze pad. “Just bruised my back and hip when I hit the ground.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You hit your head too?”

“Had my helmet on.”

Satisfied for the moment, he leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. Man it was tough to be alone in here with her. Having her this close brought up too many memories, some the best of his life and others too painful to think about. He still felt raw, even after all this time. Maybe he always would. There was so much left unsaid and unresolved between them, all of it better left buried because the damage couldn’t be undone. Not for him.

“What about what’s going on in your head right now?” he asked after a few minutes.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“What you did out there,” he said, meaning the way she’d volunteered to crew one of the Chinook’s weapons. He knew damn well that she not only had never fired a minigun before, but that she’d never taken lives, either. Knowing Honor, that would weigh heavy on her, regardless if she knew she’d done the right thing or not. “You know you helped stop the attack and saved lives today, right?” She deserved a helluva lot of credit for that. He was impressed with her—proud, even—for all of it, especially since she’d stepped up in spite of being wounded. He knew a lot of men who wouldn’t have had the balls to do what she’d done today.

She went back to studying the floor and gave a negligent little shrug that had to hurt her shoulder. “It was either me, or you guys went up with one less gunner.”

“You did good out there.” No, she’d been amazing.

Her eyes flashed up to his, and held this time. “Thanks.” Her expression thawed a little and she even allowed a grimace as she shifted on the table. “Is there another pad? This one’s soaked too.”

“Here.” He closed the small distance between them and handed the last one to her, this time taking a seat on the doctor’s stool close by her rather than returning to the wall.

A few silent, tension-filled seconds passed before she sighed and dragged her left hand through her hair. “We just gonna keep ignoring the elephant in the room while we wait, then?”

Liam’s gut constricted, a warning tingle starting at the nape of his neck. “I think that’s best, yeah.” He wasn’t interested in ripping open those wounds again.

She shot him a disbelieving look. “Well you might not have anything to say, but I do.”

Liam rolled the stool back a bit and crossed his arms again, his posture totally defensive but he didn’t give a shit. “Seriously, I don’t wanna hear it.”

She snorted. “Too fucking bad.”

The sharp retort and sudden flare of anger from her caught him off guard. Honor was calm and even-tempered, almost serene most of the time, and she hated conflict. With everyone but him, it seemed.

Before he could get a single word out, she started in on him. “I assume you got my e-mails up until you changed your address?”

He nodded.

“Did you read any of them?”

“Yeah.” All three of them. Over and over again until he’d realized how pathetic it was to hold on to the hope of maybe patching things up with her someday. He’d responded to the first one then made himself delete them all and changed his e-mail address so she couldn’t contact him again, more out of self-preservation than anything else.

“And?” she prompted, raising one strawberry-blond brow.

What the hell did she expect him to say? “And, nothing.” He was at war over here, responsible not only for the men under his command, but the troops and equipment he carried on missions, and for the multi-million dollar aircraft his rank and position within SOAR allowed him to fly. The last thing he could afford was letting the fantasy of reconciling with Honor fuck with his head and distract him when his focus needed to be one hundred percent on his job.

Her eyes widened at his blunt answer, her expression shifting from angry to hurt, then to incredulous. “Jesus, Liam, and even after what I said you still couldn’t give me the time of day?”

“I answered.”

“One line. I can’t do this anymore. That’s all you had to say to me? Really? After everything I told you?”

Liam dragged in a sharp breath. She seriously wanted to have this out here? Now, when she was bleeding and in need of medical attention? And did she honestly think an apology would make it all better and change his mind at this point?

Anger and hurt rushed to the surface, so thick they nearly choked him. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to talk about this but he couldn’t deny that a part of him had been dying for this confrontation for months now, so he didn’t hold back.

He shoved to his feet and stood towering over her, hands on hips. “What did you expect me to say? That I forgave you? That I still wanted to get back together after everything that happened?” He gave a derisive laugh, fighting to keep the true depth of his pain hidden from her. “Not likely.”

She went utterly still, staring at him as silence once again resounded between them. Tears glistened in her eyes and guilt slammed into him, upping the pressure of the vise currently crushing the tattered ruins of his heart. “How many times do I have to say I’m sorry before you believe it? That I acknowledge I made a terrible mistake and have done everything I know how to fix it? How can you just freeze me out after that and walk away from everything we had?”

Hurt and resentment swelled inside him, mixing with the anger in a toxic, chaotic mess. “You walked away first,” he shot back. “That was your choice.” Then I made mine.

It was a low blow, even if it was true. But he refused to feel guilty about it, even under the circumstances. He hadn’t wanted to have this conversation, but she’d insisted, and he wouldn’t lie to her about the way things stood.

Honor’s chin came up, her tears evaporating as her eyes sparked with fresh anger. “I did,” she admitted quietly, her control merely emphasizing the loss of his own. “I did walk away and it was the absolute worst mistake of my life. I’m sorry, Liam. See? I’m a big enough person to admit it to your face. Are you?”

He made a scoffing noise and glanced away, panic clawing at his insides as he felt his traitorous heart soften. He could not let her back in, no matter how sincere her apology seemed. He’d never survive the next time she decided to cut and run. “The truth is, you probably did us both a favor.” It’s what he’d kept telling himself all this time, but even to his own ears his voice sounded raw.

“What?” At her stricken tone he couldn’t look at her because despite everything that had happened and the way she’d ground his heart into dust beneath her heel, some part of him still desperately loved her and wanted to be with her. “How can you say that?”