"I'm terrified," I admit. "I had no role model for this. My da did his best, but he was a soldier first, always. Raising a child—being there, really being there, the way your parents were for you? I have no idea how to do that."
"But you want to learn."
"More than anything."
She's quiet for a moment, her fingers intertwined with mine.
The ring catches the fading light, a promise on her hand. A promise of forever.
"We'll figure it out together," she says finally. "That's what we do, right? Figure things out together."
"That's what we do."
The sun has set completely now, painting the sky in deep shades of purple and the first scattered stars.
Inside, I can hear Fern and Runes moving around, the clink of dishes being washed, the low murmur of their voices.
Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks.
Crickets have started their evening chorus.
This is my life now.
Family dinners and backyard barbecues and lazy evenings on the porch.
A woman I love, a baby on the way, a future I never dared to imagine.
Six weeks ago, I was a soldier with no ties, no roots, no reason to stay anywhere for more than a few months.
I thought that was freedom. I thought that was what I wanted.
I was wrong.
This is freedom. This is what I want. This woman, this family, this life.
It's terrifying. It's perfect. It's everything.
"Hey, Dalla?"
"Mm?"
"Thank you."
She lifts her head, looking at me with curiosity. "For what?"
"For seeing me. For giving me a chance. For building this life with me." I press a kiss to her forehead. "For making me believe I could have this."
"You always could have had this, RJ." She touches my face, her eyes soft in the darkness. "You just needed someone to show you it was possible."
"And now?"
She smiles—that smile, my smile, the one that changed everything.
"Now you're stuck with me. Forever."
Forever.
I like the sound of that.
