Dragging a hand over my jaw, I accept my mistakes in my early marriages. I just want to get through them quickly. “Let’s start with the first one because if you’re going to understand who I am now, you need to know who I was then.” I pause, lettingthe weight of that settle. “Eighteen years old. Fresh uniform. Fresh ego, having just been accepted to train at Coronado. And absolutely no business making promises to anyone.”
Rhoswen’s breath releases softly—the only sound I notice.
Rubbing my palms together once—a nervous habit I thought I’d broken years ago—I shift my weight, grounding myself in the thick soles of my boots. “Barely old enough to rent a car. But old enough to die for my country. Too stupid to realize those two things didn’t balance each other out.”
A few soft snorts ripple through the room. I wag my finger at the college age kids in the room. “Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up.” All the college age parents howl hearing the truth in that. Their kids look outraged at my “betrayal” as I’ve always been the cool uncle. Instead of falling down a rabbit hole of insults, I continue.
“I met her at the beach near base. We’d known each other for maybe six weeks. I was heading out on my first deployment. She was scared. I was trying to pretend I wasn’t.” I huff out a humorless laugh. “And in that perfect storm of fear and hormones, we convinced ourselves that getting married would make us feel more anchored. Like nothing bad could happen if we slapped our names on the same piece of paper.”
Rhoswen shifts slightly on the couch to get more comfortable. Since she’s already heard the story from me, I’m not worried about her judgment. No, she’s just silently offering her support. God, she always does. She’s always by my side.
I could lose myself in how much I love her. Instead, I force myself to keep going.
“We were given a rare Tuesday off before we shipped out to tie up loose ends. So, we got hitched at the courthouse in downtown San Diego. She wore a dress her roommate loaned her. I wore my uniform. My team took us to In-N-Out for burgers afterward to celebrate. One of them placed a bet that we wouldn’t last a year.” I shake my head. “He was being generous.”
Mitch, sitting next to his wife near the fireplace, winces. “Charlie…”
“I was eighteen, Mitch.”
“Still.”
Austyn gives him an incredulous look. “For our first date, you took me out with the intent of dumping me.”
Mitch has the good grace to look abashed. “That’s different.”
“Only because it’s the truth,” she counters. “Go on, Charlie.”
I wink at my rainbow haired former charge before glancing around the room at the people who have become my family over the last twenty odd years. They’re all captivated by my tale, which astounds me. “The most time we spent in the same zip code during our marriage was the week after the wedding,” I tell them. “I got deployed. She tried to adjust to life on base alone. Letters came late or not at all. Calls were impossible. We didn’t know each other. Hell, we never really had the chance.”
Laura’s head rests on her husband’s shoulder. “So what happened? Did you call it quits?”
“No. She did. As she should have.” I draw a slow breath. “She sent the papers while I was still overseas. I signed them in a tent the size of the farm table where I was bunking with three otherguys. It felt surreal, like ending a relationship I’d read about in a magazine.”
“Do you know what happened to her?”
A flicker of a smile crosses my face. “I do. Once the divorce was finalized, she moved back home. Got married to her high school sweetheart. Has a daughter who opened a café not all that far from here.” Quickly, I add, “I don’t blame her. I hope none of you ever will.”
Ali clears her throat. “I don’t. I’m just trying to reconcile this with what I imagined.”
“Which was?”
“That you were hurting too much to talk about it,” Emily adds in.
I’m grateful for their insight. “For a while—long before I met any of you—I was. But not because the marriage ended. Because I’d made a promise I didn’t have the capacity to understand. It made me question whether or not I was ready to be a SEAL.”
That’s when the room explodes in defense of the long ago me that none of them knew based on the man that stands before them today.
It gives me the strength to continue. Finally, knowing their bickering can go on all night, I raise my voice. “Hey!”
They immediately swallow their words and focus again on me.
“My first marriage taught me that commitment isn’t a crutch for fear. That if you’re going to stand next to someone, it better be because you’re ready—not because you’re scared.”
Colby murmurs, “That’s fair.”
Caleb nods. “Brutal, but fair.”
I clear my throat again, feeling the weight lift—just a fraction—now that the first layer has been peeled back. Not enough to breathe easy, but enough to speak the next part.
