The hope died as quickly as it had sparked.
“The damage to your femur, combined with the location where the shrapnel was lodged, means your leg will never be at full strength again,” Dr. Park explained gently. “You’ll be able to walk, run, and live a normal, active life. But the kind of physical demands placed on Navy SEALs—the jumping, the sprinting with heavy gear, the extended operations in extreme conditions—your leg can’t handle that anymore.”
Gabe felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. He had known this was coming. Had suspected it since the moment he woke up in that German hospital with doctors telling him how lucky he was to be alive. But hearing it stated so definitively, so finally, felt like a door slamming shut on everything he had built his life around.
“So my career is over,” Gabe said flatly.
“Your career as an active-duty SEAL is over,” Dr. Park corrected. “But the Navy has other positions that could use your experience and expertise. Training roles, advisorypositions, intelligence work. You have options, Gabe. They’re just different options than you had before.”
“What about the PEB?” Gabe asked. The Physical Evaluation Board—the panel that would officially determine whether he was fit to continue serving.
“I have to report my findings to them,” Dr. Park said. “And based on my evaluation, I’ll be recommending medical retirement or reassignment to limited duty. The final decision will be theirs, but they typically follow medical recommendations.”
Gabe nodded numbly. Medical retirement. After sixteen years of service, after dedicating his entire adult life to being a SEAL, it was over.
“I’ll need to run a few more tests,” Dr. Park said. “Blood work, some additional imaging. It’ll take about an hour. You can wait here or in the main waiting area—whichever you prefer.”
“We’ll wait here,” Jane said, speaking for both of them.
After Dr. Park left, the room fell into heavy silence. Gabe stared at the anatomical charts on the wall, not really seeing them, his mind spinning with the implications of what he had just been told.
“Gabe,” Jane said softly, but he could not look at her. Could not face the sympathy he knew would be in her eyes.
“I’m okay,” he said automatically, the lie he had been telling himself and everyone else for six years.
“No, you’re not,” Jane said gently. “And you don’t have to be.”
That broke something in him. Gabe’s shoulders sagged, and he felt tears burning behind his eyes. “I don’t know who I am if I’m not a SEAL,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “It’s all I’ve been since I was twenty-two years old. It’s how I define myself. It’s what I’m good at.”
Jane moved closer, wrapping her arms around him. “You’re so much more than your job, Gabe. You’re Trinity’s father. You’re a hero who saved countless lives. You’re someone who faces impossible situations with courage and compassion. That doesn’t change just because you can’t do active combat anymore.”
“It feels like it changes everything,” Gabe said, his voice muffled against her shoulder.
“I know,” Jane said, and he knew she did. She had lost everything she thought defined her three years ago. Her husband, her baby, her career, her mobility. She understood what it felt like to have your identity ripped away and be left wondering who you were supposed to be now.
They sat like that for a while, Jane holding him while he processed the end of the life he had known. Eventually, his tears stopped and his breathing steadied.
“Trinity and Maddy saw us,” Gabe said suddenly, the words tumbling out. “Last night. Kissing in the ballroom.”
Jane pulled back slightly, surprise on her face. “They did?”
“Through the window,” Gabe confirmed. “Trinity asked me about it this morning. Point blank, no beating around the bush. She wanted to know what was going on between us.”
“What did you tell her?” Jane asked.
“The truth,” Gabe said. “That we’re getting closer. That I care about you. That we’re taking things slow to make sure we’re doing this right.” He paused. “And I told her that no one could ever replace her mother. That Abi will always be her mom, and nothing that happens between you and me changes that.”
Jane’s eyes misted over, and Gabe grabbed her hand, holding tight.
“I’m sorry if I caused her stress,” Jane said, worry evident in her voice. “I never wanted to complicate things with Trinity.”
“No,” Gabe assured her quickly. “Not stress. She’s not stressed about it at all. Actually, she wanted to know if we’re going to be moving to Anastasia Island now.”
Jane laughed, the sound breaking some of the tension in the room. “We haven’t even discussed what ‘we’ means yet, and she’s already planning where we’re going to live?”
Gabe grinned despite everything. “While we’re taking it slow, my daughter is moving our relationship full steam ahead.”
The room fell quiet for a moment. Then Gabe spoke again, his voice soft but certain.
