“One day I do see us getting married. I see us having kids. I see Connor being the best fucking uncle that there is. But I’m not asking you to marry me. Not today. Not right now. But I want you to know that one day I will.”
Turning my head slightly I kiss the palm of his hand. “I’m in no rush, Oak. We can take this at our own pace. I love you, that’s never going to change.”
He nods his head, swallowing. Looking rather unsure of himself he asks, “But I do want to ask you one thing.”
“What is it?”
“Will you and Connor move in with me?” I blink up at him rendered speechless. I go to open my mouth but he’s quick to intervene. “I already talked it over with Connor. He’s more than happy to move here to Stonesville. He’s ready to leave Hollows Point behind. And I know you’re a strong independent woman, you’re a fucking fighter, hell, it’s why I love you so god damned much, but I’m ready for this next step, baby. I’m ready to start our lives together. One day at a time.”
One day at a time.
It’s what the leader of his support group says to them. To take one day at a time.
I clasp his face in my hands not able to hide how overjoyed I am. “I would love to move in with you.”
He releases a breath of relief. “Thank fuck.” Picking me up he twirls me around as he kisses me senseless. I giggle into our kiss, lost in the sensation, lost in the moment, lost in him.
We’re both breathless as our lips break apart. “Thank you, Grace.”
Still in a daze from our kiss I ask confused, “For what?”
His icy blue eyes are vulnerable. “For never giving up the fight.” I press a soft opened mouth kiss to his lips. How could I have ever given up on him? He’s always been worth the fight.
My lips brush against his as I promise, “I never will.”
I feel his lips smile against mine. “I know you won’t, baby. I know.”
Epilogue – Oak
“My name is Oak and I used to serve for The United States Marines,” I begin, my voice a bit unsteady. I get a few “Oorah” from those who have also served.
Beads of sweat form at the nape of my neck as my finger twitches against my jean cladded thigh. Blood roars in my ears and for a terrifying second I feel myself slipping back to the past. I blink a couple of times, my heart pounding viciously in my chest, tongue like lead in my mouth.
I’m on the precipice of a PTSD attack, but before it can take ahold of me my eyes catch a flash of stainless steel on my finger.
My eyes become laser focused on the piece of jewelry attached to my left ring finger. A vintage stainless steel Templar Knight Sword and Shield ring Grace had given me.
The moment I got down on one knee and proposed, wanting to fight alongside with her for the rest of my life, my woman had a ring of her own. And I damn well wear it with pride.
I proposed six months after Snake and Alice’s wedding.
We aren’t married. Yet.
But as long as my ring is on her finger, which will be forever, her ring will be on mine.
As I stare at the sword and shield, what we are, I find it so much easier to breathe. I’m no longer being dragged back to my past. I’m here, in the present. I twirl the ring on my finger with a small fond smile. With this ring Grace will always be with me.
I clear my throat, having the strength to continue thanks to her. My voice is steadier, my breaths even. “Next month will be twelve years since my brothers that I served with have died on mission. Twelve years and on some days, fewer now than once before, it feels as if it just happened yesterday.” My eyes cut across the room to the women and men nodding their heads in understanding. There’s no pity, what I feared the most, just understanding. “I find myself feeling guilty, forgetting about them. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. I found someone who loves me, who fights for me, fights with me, and I’m so fucking happy to be with her. I find myself so fucking happy to be alive. And it’ll hit me, like a slugger straight to the chest. I’m enjoying life,without them.I’m living,without them. I’m going on,without them.Everyday that I don’t think about them I feel like I’m betraying them. Those days are fewer now, the ones where I feel the guilt crushing me. I know punishing myself isn’t honoring them. But some days, some days I feel like I’ve made two steps forward and taken five steps back.”
Silence ensues the room but not the heavy kind. It’s the understanding kind. There’s a comradely in the pain we share. The same comradely we shared with our brothers in arms.
Jerry, the leader of the group, the very same man who was my contractor, clears his throat. All our eyes turn to him. “We all feel the remorse, the guilt, the sorrow of the ones we had to leave behind. It’s not easy, moving on. It never is.” A few hums of agreement come from the circle. “We never forget them, even if we think that we are. They’re always here.” He pats at his chest, where his heart beats underneath. “Our hearts will never allow us to forget them. And as for you, son, living is honoring them.Being happy, is honoring them. They aren’t here, and it’s a damn fucking shame, but you are. And it’s a fucking blessing that you are.” Tears gather behind my eyes as I swallow back a lump in my throat. I nod my head at him and he nods back. He addresses the group again, “There’s a hole we can dig for ourselves. A hole that can become home if we let it. But we have to remember we our worth more than that. We deserve more than that. We deserve to be free. We deserve to have peace. And that hole we find ourselves digging isn’t the peace and freedom we fought so courageously for. So what do we do?”
“We fight,” we all say in unison.
“And why do we all fight?” Jerry commands.
“Because we don’t know how to lose.”
