Page 122 of Oathbreaker

And I open the first letter.

…God, Briar. I’ve never felt like this before. As though I’ve left half of myself behind. Honestly, it’s fucking with my head, baby. The only time I can keep things together is when I write to you, but since being a soldier is the only thing I know how to be, I have to suck it up and ignore the fact that I feel like a lovesick puppy and focus.

I miss you, baby.

-C

P.S. Be prepared to get a lot more letters…since it’s the only time I can get my shit together and all.

I laugh and it’s watery.

That’s so Colt…and it’s sad. We’ve talked about his future, about him finding his place in the family, about figuring out his next steps. But did he—or more concernedly—does he think that all he is, is a soldier?

Because he needs to know that he’s so much more than just a soldier.

He needs to know?—

A sob bubbles up in my chest.

Then I open the next letter.

…I dreamed about you last night. It was so real that I could have sworn you were right here next to me when I woke up. Then I realized I was in the twin bed with the shitty mattress and government issued blankets and my single pathetic pillow (they really don’t want us getting soft with brick-like pillows and scratchy blankets)...and fuck, baby, I so wanted to be home. To be beside you.

I can’t wait to dream about you again tonight, baby.

-C

He dreamed about me. He thought about me so much he had trouble focusing.

He wanted to be home.

…today was a fucked-up day. One of the guys I’ve been training with got careless. And then things got bad. Seriously fucking bad. We’re lucky no one died, in all honesty, and now I’m left wondering why I’m doing this. I could be home with you and the guys, building the life we planned together that weekend. I just…if I was home what would I be doing? Like really doing? What difference would I be making? At least if I’m here, I know we’re doing real work that is going to make a difference. It’s direct. It’s hands on. It’s…fuck, but it’s all I know how to do. And I need to do something to prove to the guys, to you, to Dash that I’m worthy of being in their lives. In your life, baby.

I promise you that I’ll prove it.

I promise you that I’ll be home as soon as I can.

-C

He needs to prove that he’s worthy?

Does he still think that?

My lungs hitch, and tears start sliding down my cheeks.

And I can’t stop.

I tear open letter after letter.

…training was really shitty today, but I made it through, so I’m a step closer to ready for my first mission. I’m so fucking exhausted, though, that I’m thinking about nothing except your smile. And how once the mission’s done, I’ll finally get to see it somewhere that’s not just my dreams…

…I dreamed about you last night again. About the way you got so mad at Dash for sneaking the cookies you were baking. I have a confession. I stole them too…

…I think I’m going insane. I swore I caught a hint of your perfume today. I ended up following the agent who was wearing it and she sprayed some on a piece of paper for me. I sniffed it like an addict. And now it’s tucked under my pillow…

…I’m getting ready to fly out, baby. So, this may be my last letter for a while. But know that I’ll be thinking about you every spare second and I’ll be dreaming about you every night. I’m going to make this go as quickly as possible so I can get home to you…

And that’s the last one.