Chapter TwoEx-boyfriend?
“When did that happen?” Barry clamped his jaw shut, but it had just slipped out of him. He’d totally missed the “ex-” happening, though he absolutely remembered them getting together. He’d gone on a bender the night he’d heard about it—then had to report himself unfit for duty when a surprise mission cropped up the next day. He hadn’t touched a drink since, not even a beer.
“Couple months back, the misogynistic prick. He couldn’t cut the grade. Turns out he thought I was sure to quit during our last tour in the Dustbowl because no woman could possibly hack Afghanistan. He’d also been counting on me washing out—‘fired’ he called it—because a woman couldn’t possibly be good enough to fly big, nasty helicopters.”
“What an ass.” As if Barry could be so proud of his
