“Thank you.” Two simple, but grudging words. “Why does you waitress if you have the research job? I mean, for months I was certain you were a total airhead.”
“Gee thanks.” His words hurt, but she could see how he might have arrived at the conclusion. She was a very happy-go-lucky person and always sought to be cheerful. More than once she’d overheard comments how she was nice but a bit of a light-brain. Typically, it never bothered her. Until now.
“Sorry, that came out wrong. First impression only. It quickly became clear you weren’t…” he paused.
“An intellectual lightweight?” she offered.
“That’s one way to put it. Listening to you talk, being with you, I discovered you were actually smart, probably a damn sight smarter than I am. I didn’t understand how you could be happy as a waitress.”
“Yeah, I remember those comments.” This conversation wasn’t going where she wanted it to. “I became, and remain, a waitress, or server if you prefer the modern term, because I love people and I need human contact. My computer work is very solitary and lonely, despite the people I chat with online.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes like a light snapping on. “Oh, I get it. Your dual careers make total sense now.”
She swallowed the last of her tea. She’d said her piece and could leave now. He knew who she was, what she did. Maybe she should explain her motivation.
“I fell into the government work by accident. I wanted a job in computers, in the training I took at SAIT. Not repairs. More like programming. I saw an ad and applied. I was four interviews and eight aptitude tests in before I was told the client was military. I was tempted to refuse but when I learned I’d be finding and stalking potential terrorists, I was hooked. Especially after 9/11. I hope what I do helps prevent similar tragedies in the future. I should clarify. I said I met Cameron at SAIT. I didn’t, I met him on the job.”
He nodded his understanding, but didn’t interrupt.
“When we were at your house, watching the news, and I left suddenly, it was because I recognized one of my marks in the news broadcast. I had to report in. I’m proud to say my information led to an unknown terrorist cell being broken up, and the conspirators were arrested.”
Just thinking of her role in the arrests filled her with pride and a deep sense of accomplishment. She’d been instrumental in several such raids and a dozen smaller ones. Twice, she’d fed information to her boss which thwarted major attacks.
“I still can’t give you all the details, but I hope this is enough to set your mind at ease about what I do. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, couldn’t tell you. I can’t go back and change that, but I’d like for us to try again.”
Ira fiddled with his mug, rose and refilled it. Leaning back against the counter, he studied her. She’d been open and honest with him. He was proud of her accomplishments. She was, in his opinion, a hero. “I’m impressed. Thank you for telling me.”
Relief flooded through her. It was a good thing she was sitting or she might have dropped to the floor when the tension rushed from her body. She smiled at him.
* * *
Somehow,her smile was reassuring to Ira. Maybe there was hope for them after all.
“Where do we go from here?” he asked, newly confident he wanted to resume where they left off. He was still in love with her and couldn’t see his feelings changing. He’d loved her, even when he was angry with her evasion.
“I’d like to see you again. I care for you. You’ve become important in my life.”
“Are you okay with my past?” he asked, needing to be certain. He’d accidentally revealed his position as a sniper, he wanted, needed to know she was okay with the things he’d done.
“Do you have regrets?” The question was typical of her compassionate heart.
“Dozens of them. More than I’ll ever settle in my mind. Taking a life isn’t easy. Each one hit me harder than the last. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, because it was the best way to serve my country. Terrible atrocities were averted with a single shot. It’s hard to reconcile the two sides. Regret versus need. After my accident, I saw my counselor every day for a month. I still see them weekly. I alternate between two. I can’t change what I did and it haunts me at times. I don’t mean being shot; I mean shooting people. That’s what bothers me. I was always resigned to the idea I might get injured in the line of duty. I expected it. I’m resolving my issues. It’s a long slow process.”
It wasn’t easy to confess his mental disarray. He wasn’t considered dangerous nor did he have PTSD. What he suffered from was a whack load of guilt and an inability to fully reconcile the need for what he’d done and the pain of ending lives.
“I think,” she said, “I’m okay with your past. I’ve never seen a shred of violence in you. I don’t think you’ve ever really even raised your voice. I’m sorry you have residual problems over what you’ve done, but I’m not afraid of you. In fact, I love you. More than I realized I could love anyone.” She rose and drew him into her arms, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re in my life.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He stepped back just enough to press his lips to hers. “I love you Honey Dalton. I think I loved you the first time I saw you.”
“Even though I was an airhead?” she teased.
Heat flooded his face. “Yes, even then. I’m not ever going to live that down, am I?”
“Never.” She kissed him deeply. Her love flowed through her touch, straight to his heart.
Warmth stole over him, not passion, not lust, but the soft warmth of knowing he loved and was loved back. “I just have one more question,” he said when they finally broke apart.
She grinned and rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”
“You’re my life, my world, my sanity, and my heart. I’m not much of a man. I am who I am. I’ve done ugly things but you put beauty back into my life with your giving heart and beautiful soul. You complete me.” He paused. “Honey Dalton, will you do me the honor, no, the privilege of being my wife?”
She stared at him, unblinking, for a full minute before a heart stopping smile bloomed on her face. She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “Yes, Ira Castillo, yes. I’d be honored to be your wife.”
