They’rehappy. In this moment, their life is messy—one kid is sniffling, the other pulling their father’s hand in the direction of what he wants. There are tired lines around the wife’s eyes, butthe happiness on her face is plain as day. They are a family, and a dropped ice cream cone and a demanding son are just part of their day.
That could be us.That could be our future.
Then the darker thought:Or it could be Riley, alone, getting a folded flag.
But I can’t look away from them. The wife leans into her husband’s side, and he drops a kiss on the top of her head without breaking his conversation with the boy. It’s the casual intimacy of people who’ve built a life together.
She knew the risks. She chose him anyway.
And they’re happy.
I find a bench and sink onto it, pulling out my phone.
Jake picks up on the second ring. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“I screwed it up.” My voice comes out raw. “Bad.”
“What happened?”
“I kissed Riley last night.” Even saying it out loud makes my pulse kick up. I can’t even say the words ‘oh, and by the way, we got married on Valentine’s Day night, but we were both drunk and don’t remember it.’ “And Jake—it was the best fucking kiss of my life. I never knew it could feel like that. She kissed me back and…” I stop as the memory crashes over me again.
“And what? What’s the problem?”
“I stopped. Told her I couldn’t do this. Walked away.” I laugh bitterly. “She looked at me like I’d ripped her heart out. Andthen this morning I basically ran out of the hotel room because I couldn’t handle seeing the hurt in her eyes.”
“Jesus, Duke.”
“She said she’d be devastated if I didn’t come home. She basically confirmed every fear I’ve ever had. But the way she kissed me—” My voice cracks. “I think I’ve been in love with her for fifteen years, and I was too stupid to see it.”
The line goes quiet for a moment. Then Jake sighs, long and heavy. “So what? You think Izzy and I don’t have hard days? You think she doesn’t worry when I have a dangerous assignment at Ghost Security? Or that I don’t worry about her when I can’t be with her when she’s touring? A long-distance relationship is hard fucking work, man. But when you find the woman you love, you’ll do anything, and you’ll make it work.”
I don’t answer.
“Love isn’t about avoiding risk, brother.” His voice softens. “It’s about finding someoneworththe risk. And from everything you’ve told me about Riley and everything I saw this weekend, she’s worth it. The question is whether you’re brave enough to let yourself have it.”
I think about the soldier across the plaza, the way his wife fit naturally against his side. The way they moved together like two halves of the same whole.
“What if I hurt her?” The words scrape out of me like glass. “What if I come home broken, or don’t come home at all?”
“Then she’ll grieve.” Jake’s voice is steady. Matter-of-fact. “And it’ll be awful. But at least she’ll have had you. If you come home hurt, you’ll have each other.” A pause. “That’s more thanmost people get, Duke. Most people never find someone worth grieving over. You found her when you were seventeen, and you’ve been too scared to do anything about it ever since. But Duke, listen to me here. Don’t fucking catastrophize. Yes, things can go wrong, but they can go right just as easily. And if you want to come to the private sector, there’s always a job for you at Ghost Security.”
The truth of it hits me like a fist to the gut. Fifteen years of watching her date other men. Fifteen years of being the shoulder she cried on when they broke her heart. Fifteen years of telling myself I was being noble when really I was just terrified. Fifteen years of never finding a woman that came close to comparing to Riley—and I compared every woman to Riley, and they all came up lacking.
Jake is also right about my mind always going to the worst place. I’m a good soldier, and I know how to take care of myself. I know I get caught up in the “what ifs?” but maybe that’s been me thinking I’m protecting myself and women, when it’s just me hiding.
Jesus. How many years have I wasted?
“You remember what you told me before my wedding?” Jake continues. “You said Izzy was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’d be an idiot to let fear screw it up.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
I don’t have an answer. Because it hits me that it wasn’t different.
I watch the military family across the plaza. The soldier has set his daughter down now, and she’s holding her brother’s hand, tear-tracks drying on her cheeks. Their mom is laughing at something, one hand on her husband’s arm.
“I think I’ve already lost her,” I say quietly. “As a friend, as anything. The way she looked at me this morning—”
