Because it is unfair. We’re two people who found love with each other. Isn’t that supposed to be a beautiful thing? Aren’t people supposed to celebrate that, not try and tear it down?
As an hour ticks by, I think back to the people in the bar.
How they didn’t seem judgmental at all. How they were kind and welcoming.
I think of Santana and Jess, instinctively knowing they’ll have my back no matter what.
And Vale…
God, I love him so much. He won’t give a crap what anyone says. He never wanted the squeaky-clean image, because it’s not real. He’s a soldier who has had to do hard, traumatizing things. And me…I’m his lifeline. Didn’t he tell me that?
You put me on solid ground.
Vale wants me because I’m good for him. He cares about me. Enough to guard me overnight while camping and defend me to our parents. I make him happy. And he doesn’t want to be with me in spite of my body type. This is simply the body of the woman he fell for. In turn, he’s fallen for every inch of me.
He loves me.
He loves me like crazy. When it comes down to it, the only person who is making me feel terrible is my mother. Am I going to let her continue to do that to me? She’s been doing it my whole life. She’s the wrong one. Not me—and not us.
I sit up in bed, wiping the tears out of my eyes.
I can’t believe I let him leave. After telling Vale I wanted to be with him, I stumbled and possibly hurt him. That knowledge is painful and unacceptable. I have to go find him.
Wiping my damp cheeks with more purpose, I swing my legs off the side of the bed and speed walk out of the room, down the stairs. Vale is probably long gone, but I have to try and find him anyway. I have to tell him I’m sorry and demand he forgive me for losing faith.
I throw open the front door of the house—and there he is.
Striding up the walkway, still shirtless and barefoot in sweatpants. Only this time he’s not carrying a plate of sandwiches, he’s holding a small black box in his right fist. There’s a determined expression on his face and he’s such a welcome sight, he’s so gorgeous that all I can do is sniff loudly and say, “I’m sorry.”
“No,” he rasps, coming to a stop in front of me. Towering over me by several inches, his eyes the most intense shade of blue. “I’m sorry, Lula. I should have stayed and reassured you. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that. I just thought actions would carry more weight than words.” His throat works with a heavy swallow. “You’re mine. All mine. And I need you. I don’t give a damn what the world thinks or what our parents say—we know this is right and good and perfect. We know this was meant to be.” He kisses my lips softly and goes down on one knee, snapping open the ring box, bringing a choked, happy sound past my lips. “There was only a pawn shop open this time of night, but I’ll get you a better one. I just need to get a ring on your finger. I need you to know I’m positive about us and I’ll never need time to think or consider it. I know. My heart knows. I only need time with you—every second, every minute, every day. Will you please give that to me, Lula?”
“Yes.” Not a single beat passes between his question and my answer. I throw my arms around the man I love and we hold each other on the top step of the house, rocking together, the ring box still open between us. When he finally slides the diamond onto my finger and kisses me, I let the happiness blanket me and my heart. I let it cover the holes that were punched in my insides earlier and seal them up tight.
Never to be reopened.
Epilogue
Vale
Five Years Later
I’m not supposed to be here. But I can’t stay away from my wife.
Across the street from where I’m parked, she is having an outdoor potluck with some of the other SEAL wives. She’s in her element in the outdoors, lifting her beautiful face to the sunshine, laughing along with the other women. Christ, I can’t take my eyes off her. When I met her, she was perfect to me. I had no idea she would get even better with time.
How is that possible?
How am I even more obsessed with her than I was in those first few days? How is my body holding it all together without imploding?
I manage to seem normal, going about my duties as a commander of the new recruits. Training them. Preparing them for combat. But I never stop counting the seconds until I’m back in her arms, where I feel like myself. Where I feel loved and happy. With my wife.