blondexhurricane:

A slight pang made itself known in Delia’s chest,
but she purposely ignored it. It wasn’t fair to fault
Teddy for the fact that she had excluded her from
the list of people she loved. Her head knew that,
but she wasn’t sure if her heart would ever come
to accept it.

                Iraq was out of the question, and New York was too far away.
                The fact that Delia herself barely knew anything at all about
                her extended family only caused the latter option to be even
                less attractive. More importantly than that, even if she didn’t
                remember (even though she probably did, given the fact that
                she thought she was supposed to be back overseas) her fear
                of flying, Delia would never be able to live with herself if she
                let Teddy step foot on a plane. Definitely not a helicopter.

                “Maybe there’s somewhere on base that you could stay for
                a little while? You’re the Chief of Staff, so I doubt anybody
                would think to question you.” There was always the option
                of a hotel, but that felt the least homey of them all. “I don’t
                really care where you choose, just as long as you decide
                sooner rather than later.”

“So you really want me gone, then?” Teddy said, fixing
Delia  with an impassive gaze.  But  beneath  the  skin,
she was hurting. Maybe she didn’t remember the pain,
but she understood it all too well — she wasn’t wanted
here. “Then… then I’m gone. I’ll have my things packed
by the end of the week.”

                For  all of her bravado, Teddy knew it was only a matter of 
                time before she broke. The tears stung bitter and unbidden
                in her eyes, and she didn’t know why — what did she have
                to  lose?  This  house wasn’t her home, but it wasn’t these
                four walls that she feared leaving behind. 

                “I’ll make it work,” Teddy said quietly, voice never once
                hinting at her sadness.  And it was only too easy to turn
                away  as  the  tears  began to get the better of her  —  a
                tear for every memory she’d let slip between her fingers.