Page 34 of The Forgotten SEAL (The Real SEAL #1)

“Him? Devastated? He came here to visit her before seeing me,” I say.

Traitorous tears flood my vision. “I saw you hunched over her bed when I walked in, and I thought it was him. I thought it was Smith. And that would make perfect sense. Then you looked up, and I was relieved. Maybe for one more minute I could pretend he truly is still mine.” Sniffling, I wipe my nose with the back of my hand in the most ungraceful way possible.

“He’s not mine, though, is he?” I turn my head to meet his eyes.

Moose winces, looks away, and then down at the floor. Shaking his head, he says, “He was never yours to take, unfortunately.”

An arrow shot directly into my heart would hurt less. “I have to go. Thanks for the talk.” He follows me out of the hospital and into the parking lot. I sense him close behind. “And for what it’s worth, I think you should tell Megan how you feel. She deserves more than an honor relationship.”

He stays silent, but still follows me all this distance out to my car.

To make sure I get there safely, I assume.

It irritates me, and at this point I’d do anything to hurt him the way he’s hurt me.

Even if it’s truly Smith who has hurt me.

The hot sun beats down as I stew with the words on the tip of my tongue and my heart hardening by the second.

“I’ve got it from here,” I whisper, grabbing the door handle of my car to unlock it.

Moose clears his throat. “I respect Smith too much to ever pursue her in that way. I can be her friend. I can try to fit in the spaces that he’s left, but he’s all over her body. He owns every inch of her skin, her soul, her heart. Forever.”

An angry sob rises in my throat. “Never forever!” I yell, remembering the words Smith whispered before he left me alone in that hospital.

“Forever doesn’t exist. Only dimensions of time that can be calculated by happiness or sadness.

Sadness? That lasts forever. Happiness is never forever, Moose.

It’s not. Don’t fool yourself into thinking any different.

I got a few months of it, and I’ll take it for what it’s worth and move on.

She won’t love him forever. Not after what he’s done.

Reach out and take what you want. Not because I think it would make my life easier, but because who the hell knows how much longer we have on this planet?

” I sob again and start my car with the door open.

I point to the hazy, smoke-covered sun. It still doesn’t look the way it did before.

Moose is leaning over, one hand on my side panel and one wrapped around the side of his head, soaking in my words of wisdom.

Maybe someone will have a better day than I am.

“I have to go. If there’s any chance of catching him, I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t try.

” I close my door and roll my window down.

He’s still silent and stoic.

“Tell Megan I’m sorry and she’s beautiful, okay? This wasn’t how I envisioned this visit going.”

He nods. “Thanks, Carina.”

A dimpled smile is the last thing I see before I pull away and head toward the freeway.

I use my Bluetooth to call home and alternate with Smith’s cell phone dozens of times.

The lines are down right now. It’s useless.

With each security check, I become more and more impatient.

The officer that’s checking my trunk and back seat at the entrance to my neighborhood is friendly enough, but I might as well be spitting nails instead of pleasantries.

It took two hours to cover several miles to get home.

Smith’s truck isn’t in the driveway when I pull in.

I cry some more and beat on my horn like a maniac.

The radio blares some news about an impostor attack at the White House.

The perpetrator didn’t get close, of course, but it’s still a suicide vest with intent to kill.

I cry some more for the state of affairs that ripped my life apart.

Pretending isn’t an option anymore. I exit my car with a face full of wet mascara and my oversized bag full of mace and empty notebooks.

The second I push open the door, I smell him.

Smith was here, and the tragedy of that forces a pit in my stomach that powers me to a toilet to be sick.

The house is warmer somehow. Complete. And he’s already gone.

I can’t ask him anything. Or talk to him about how he’s doing.

I can’t tell him about Roarke or Sean or show him my new hair color.

Truthfully, it’s as if a stranger passed through my home while I was out.

I open the door to the room where he keeps his gear.

A few large Tupperware boxes have been shifted.

I close the door quickly and head straight for my marker board to write down the title of the book.

I know without a doubt what suits it best. With shaky hands and a red Expo Marker, I tell the world, and myself, too, what this story will be.

After I write it down on the board, I sit down to open my laptop to email it to Jasmine.

It’s ready. I’m ready for her to see my scars.

I’m ready for her to sell them to the highest bidder.

That’s when I see the letter. It’s one page, written in Smith’s neat scrawl on a piece of computer paper. It’s not folded. It’s sitting on my keyboard, sandwiched by the screen and the keyboard. “What have you done?” I ask him, as I glance over his words.

My beautiful, sweet, kind Care,

I missed you. I walked into an empty house that felt like you. Missing you has been painful, but feeling you and smelling you and not seeing you is heartbreaking. I don’t have a lot of time as I’m headed out again, but I need to tell you a few things.

I haven’t contacted you because I needed space.

You consumed me so wholly that I wasn’t sure who I was anymore.

It sounds like a pretext, but given my circumstance, it bears more weight than the average man giving that excuse.

Don’t get me wrong, I love you so fully that I can’t imagine the world without you in it, but I feel I may have taken advantage of our friendship by pursuing more.

I’m not calling you weak, or saying I have some superhero powers of persuasion, because I know that what you felt for me is real.

Our love is real.

Something changed when the new 9/11 happened, while I was wondering if you were alive, dead, or otherwise harmed.

I stopped breathing. I made deals with God.

Nothing in this world made sense if you weren’t going to be by my side.

It’s so selfish. It’s wrong. All my life my goal was to be a SEAL.

Loving you detracted from that goal, I’ve realized.

Loving you changed me completely. Loving you is painful.

It’s truth. It’s lies. It’s the past. It’s my future. Loving you is always.

Loving you is immoral, Carina. Because long before I loved you, I promised my love to someone else.

It wasn’t coerced. I gave it freely and of pure heart, entirely.

Megan needs me now more than ever. If I’ve learned anything about the fickle, trivial things of life, it’s that you need to honor your commitments.

What else can you do? How else is a man formed except by his word?

When I proposed to Megan, I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me.

I told her I would be there for her until the last sunset and the moon refused to rise.

I told her I would be her rock in any storm of life—her protector, her guardian, her provider.

Most men say these things during their wedding vows. I promised them when I proposed.

Do you know how horrible it makes me feel? Because of how it must make you feel? You’re not second best. You’re not runner-up. You’re the love of my life.

None of that matters. Sometimes men must sacrifice for the greater good.

Sometimes men must sacrifice for honor. I must sacrifice because I can’t in good conscience love you so fiercely and turn a blind eye to my past promises.

It would make what we had less. And it’s not less.

Quite the contrary. Care, you are everything.

From this moment forth, you’ll be that gentle sunlight that wakes me on a weekend morning.

That first scent of fall when the air begins to cool.

The smile on my face when I see a couple lounging in the park.

You’ll be the wind in my hair when I jump out of an airplane.

The stars in the sky as I fall asleep at night.

You’ll be that soft second beat of my heart every other moment.

The fog during a morning run. Your name will be the first thing I think when I wake up and the very last thing I mouth before I fall asleep.

Please know that nothing could change this, and it really has nothing to do with you.

This was the decision I was always destined to make when the time arose.

Some may say it’s not fair to Megan to give her the pieces you didn’t claim in her absence, but I know you’ll understand I have to try.

I have to make it right in her eyes. I have to honor my word.

I have to work to convince her of these things.

I know you’ll be more than okay because of how amazing you are.

The things you’ve overcome don’t define you, they add to your charm—your backbone.

I hope one day I can look at you and not feel everything.

I hope one day I can think of your face without wanting to curl into myself and die of longing.

Mostly I hope you can move on with your life without a backward glance in my direction.

If you love me, you will. As soon as you can. It’s my plea. My dying wish.

I’ll long for you always. I’ll love you even though I shouldn’t.

I remembered. And it changed everything and nothing at the same time.

Yours always,

S