Sadly, he knew that was the truth.
Graham had been made for him, and only him. He’d had a life with D’Artangnan, and he had one without him. The former was much better than the latter.
They might not have had a penny to their names, and they were trapped fighting rich men’s wars, but they were doing it together.
As soulmates.
“Perfect,” D’Artangnan admitted, as he began kissing the man’s neck to pepper the morning lovemaking with some foreplay.
Only, Graham had to know.
“So, where were you?” he asked. “It’s Sunday, and you’re normally off duty. What did the CO want?” he asked, curiously.
As he was teasing his earlobe, D’Artangnan couldn’t tell him that.
What he’d signed up for was something that would set them both up for their future. They’d be able to buy a great house, and some nice cars.
They’d get a jumpstart in their futures, and all he had to do was dedicate a single year to the cause to get one hell of a payout.
What was the cause?
Well, he was going to play bodyguard to powerful people and get paid well doing it.
This was for Graham, and their chance to have a life outside of the military. If it wasn’t classified, and he was allowed to tell anyone, he would be spilling his guts.
Only, how did he tell the man he loved he was going to have to leave him the last six months of Graham’s tour to go under and become someone else.
Michael.
The Archangel.
Even to him, it was weird, but it was necessary. To be the‘Hand of God’, you couldn’t have the world knowing who you were. D’Artangnan Graves would die, and in his place, Michael would be born.
God.
He wanted to tell him in the worst way, but as a Marine, you kept classified—classified. Graham wasn’t an American soldier.
He was a foreign entity, and this gig was too sweet to risk it.
“Like I said, it was just some paperwork. You know how the US military is. There has to be a paper trail forEVERYTHING.”
Graham fought to change the dream.
He fought to alter this past reality.
“Is it to become an Archangel?” he asked, not sure how the hell he knew that. He’d never heard of it before, other than when his parents forced him to church as a wee lad, but here it was in his mind.
When he asked the question, it clearly caught the man off guard.
And his eyes went huge.
“How did you know…?” he began, staring incredulously at him.
Graham kept going, using what he knew in his head, and changing the path they’d taken.
If he didn’t, they would fall apart. The irony was that he had planned on proposing that night at dinner. It was their anniversary—of sorts. They’d been together three years that weekend.
Graham knew it was time to get married, and to make that moment count.
