Consolation Page 10

I extend my hand and take it.

“Was there anything else?”

The one thing I wanted was our wedding ring. After the explosion, no personal belongings were sent back. Maybe he left it too?

Liam looks at the other letters in his hand, and I hate the pain I see. “A letter for Jackson, Mark, and one for me were in there as well.”

“I don’t know if I can read this,” I reply honestly.

“You’ll read it when you’re ready. I’ve got some things I need to get done,” Liam says and grabs his coat. He kisses the top of my head.

I nod and gaze at the letter in my hand. I want to read it, but I can’t right now. Not with Aarabelle awake. I have no idea how I’m going to handle this. I place it on the table and decide I’ll read it later.

The night passes and I get Aarabelle to bed. I’m exhausted and worn as I flop on the couch and turn on the fireplace. The letter sits there and the need to read his words is too much to fight. I miss him and maybe this will help me feel close again.

My throat is dry as my finger tears through the seal. My heart beats rapidly in my ears as dread begins to claw its way through my body. Can I read my husband’s final message? Inhaling through my nose, I count backwards as my hands shake.

The wind blows and I know he’s here with me.

Biting my lip, I think about Aaron and what he’d say to me right now. He’d tell me to “man up” and read it. I smile to myself as I hear his voice in my head. Tears blur my vision, but I wipe them away and read my husband’s last words to me.

Lee,

If you’re reading this, I’m no longer here. I’ve broken my promise to come home to you, even though it was a promise I knew I couldn’t really make. Know that I didn’t go willingly. I wanted a life with you—forever. There’s not a single part of me that ever wanted you to read this. First, because I’m not good at this crap. Second, because I’ve failed you on some level. I always told you I am a SEAL—the best, elite, and untouchable. I believe that. There’s a reason why we’re trained like we are—we do the shit that no one else could. So, somehow I fucked up. I got in a situation and my training failed. I’m sorry.

My life was never the same after we met in Ms. Cook’s class. You sat next to me and I knew I was a goner. Then I saw you before the homecoming game and you had that damn skirt on. I almost fucked up the game thinking about how to get you to go on a date with me. After weeks of telling you how awesome I am, you finally caved. I felt like I’d won the lottery. You were the best prize. Hell, you are the best prize. We went to that awful restaurant but you smiled the whole time. When I walked you to the door and you kissed me before I could have done some stupid awkward shit, I knew one day I’d marry you. I knew you’d be the woman I’d spend every night next to. Because you’re my fucking world, Lee. You’re the sun, the stars, and the everything in between.

Everyone says in these letters we give these great speeches about random things. I’ve probably rewritten this damn thing twelve times. I can only tell you this: I love you. I’ve always loved you and I’ll love you far past my death.

I can’t tell you what to do because, well, I’m gone and you wouldn’t listen anyway. But, you made promises. You deserve to have the life you wanted . . . one with a man who loves you more than his own life. A man who will give you a family and the love that you need. If we have kids, I hope you give them a father. They’ll need that. Someone to teach them to throw a ball, how to ask a girl out, how to keep the stupid boys who only want one thing away. If we have a girl she’s never allowed to date . . . ever. Make sure that no boy puts his dipstick anywhere near my daughter. Tell them about us. Tell them about how much I would’ve loved them. If they ask why, tell them I was protecting them. I’m not a proud man, but I’m proud of the life we’ve had. You’ve stood by me, pushed me, and made me a better man.

I’ve made mistakes in my life, but you were the best thing that ever happened to me. You loved me when I probably didn’t deserve it. Know that when I close my eyes at night I always see you. And when I draw my last breath at the end, it’ll be your name I say last. Without you, there would be no me.

Love me when I’m gone.

Aaron

The tears fall and I clutch the letter to my chest. “I’ll love you forever,” I whisper and hope somewhere, somehow, he hears me.

 

 

“Fuck!” I yell out and punch the tree. My knuckles scream out in pain.

I pick up my pace and start to run again. I need to work out and be ready for the team. I can’t be sitting around and then not be in peak physical condition, but every damn day I’m at her house. I can’t stay away or stop myself from checking on her. It’s like a drug. So I run . . . I run and try to stop my mind from drifting to her and Aarabelle. I think about the way she laughs, how her smile lights up the room, and how much I like being the one to put it there. This shit needs to stop.

The music blares in my ears as I sprint. I count and breathe, focusing only on that. I can’t think about her blonde hair. I won’t worry about whether she’s read the letter. I refuse to worry about whether she remembered to call the mortgage company. Because I’m not her fucking anything. I’m the dickhead who won’t leave her alone because of a promise. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. I’m nothing to her and I can never be. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this.

I run faster and stop to do some push-ups. I’ll show her fat and old.

My phone rings and it’s a California number.

“Hello?”

“Dreamboat, it’s Jackson.”

“Hey, Muffin. What’s up?” I ask as I try to catch my breath. I’ve met Jackson Cole a bunch of times. Aaron worked for him when he left the Navy and our teams were both deployed together at the same time to Africa. We weren’t really close but drank together a few times.

“Not much. Wanted to check on Natalie and see if she needs anything.”

Natalie told me about how he took Aaron’s death hard. He felt like he was responsible. He got himself shot when he went over to investigate and bring Aaron’s remains home. Not that there were many remains left. “She’s putting on a good show. She’s stubborn as all hell but finally taking care of some things.”

He sighs and I wonder what he was expecting. It’s only been about seven months since he died. No one would be ready for much more than she is.

“She starts working for me this week. I wanted to make sure everything is okay.”

I forgot about that. Shit. “Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be good. My leave is over this week and who knows what the deployment schedule is like.”

“Ahhh, I heard. Four, huh?”

“Yeah, man.” I lean against the tree since this is going to be another few minutes. “How’s Cali?”

He laughs and pauses, “I’m adjusting.”

“She worth it?”

“You have no idea.”

“Thank God,” I say. This is no life for a woman. The home-again-then-gone-again life. How the hell any of these guys are dumb enough to marry someone I’ll never know. It’s unfair and I don’t need anyone clouding my judgment when I’m on a mission.

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