Page 124 of Damaged Desires

I coughed, turned away adjusting myself, and then picked up the last large gift which had been waiting by the tree.

“What’s that one? Is it for me?” Dani’s little china doll of a niece asked.

“No, this one is for Nash,” Dani told her.

“You already got me something,” I said, rubbing a hand over the puppy’s smooth fur.

“This one isn’t from me,” she said.

I looked at the tag, and my heart stalled. It was from Tristan, Hannah, and Molly. The three females who I was still responsible for. Tristan had not returned from New York to Delaware. She’d given up the rental by the ocean completely, moving her things to her grandmother’s house upstate. We talked almost daily. Things were better with us. Back to a friendship embedded with a sibling love that would never disappear. We’d been seared together by loss, and that wasn’t going to change.

I realized, before even opening it, that it was a frame. Tristan had sent me a painting, and my heart pattered a little as I wondered if it was the one that came immediately to mind. I tore the paper away, pulled apart the box that had been stapled shut, and slid out the portrait.

Dani stared back at me from the canvas.

It was not the painting Tristan had started originally, or if it was, she’d done a lot to change it. Because this wasn’t a straight portrait. Instead, it was a Dani with wings, a helmet in one hand, an owl perched on the other, and a delicate diadem with a jewel on her forehead. A goddess literally glowing with the same life force that burst from my Dani every day. It was stunning, not only because of Tristan’s talented brush strokes, but because she’d captured every single thing she’d missed in the image of Dani she’d started months ago.

“Ooh, let’s see,” Bee asked, and I slowly turned it to face the room.

As the room burst into noise, I saw a small card tucked into the framework on the back. I removed it, reading Tristan’s softly curved writing:

Dear Nash,

You said you didn’t have the words to tell me what was missing, but you found it all by yourself. You were missing the love she was already showing you before either of you knew it. The love I recognized but couldn’t put in the painting because it hurt too much at the time. But seeing the two of you at Thanksgiving…it was glowing around you both. I tried to capture it for you so you’ll never lose your way again. So the light she shines will always direct you home.

With love,

Tristan

My eyes filled with tears that I couldn’t hold back. I handed Dani the card and took off for the kitchen. I didn’t have to wait long before Dani found me, trailed by a sleepy puppy. She wrapped me in her arms.

I’d never be able to forget the one mission I’d lost. The one that cost me my best friend and Tristan her soulmate. But I had a different mission now. Not only Dani, but my position here at Wellsley Place. Softer callings. Things that didn’t leave as many nightmares piling up at the doorway when I entered my dreams each night.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded. “I’d told her the portrait wasn’t right, but I couldn’t explain to her why. I knew something was missing because I’d spent every second I was with you studying you with a sniper’s focus, with the intuition we use that keeps us alive. But even with all that training, I still missed it.”

“Missed what?”

“The love. It had been so long since I’d allowed myself to see it reflecting in anyone’s eyes that I didn’t recognize it for what it was.”

Dani smiled at me and said softly, “That doesn’t count, butI do love you. I loved you before I knew it was love.”

I grinned back. “That only counts as one.”

And I smashed her lips into mine but then went purposefully slow, dragging out every second that we were able to touch a part of our bodies together. Like all SEALs, even former ones, I wasn’t gentle, but I knew a hell of a lot about control and patience, about working slow for the best results. There weren’t many people who could keep up with that slow yet harsh pace. I was an oxymoron of sorts. But Dani had proven she could keep up with me. With all my twisted pieces. With a burnt heart she’d somehow replaced with one that was bursting with new life.

She was my goddess, leading me home from war.