Epilogue

Blake

 

It was a beautiful sunny December day in Del Rio, Texas. The street outside the small church in town was lined with cars, and everyone in town was honking their horns as I snuck into the church surrounded by my wedding party.

Holly was the flower girl, dressed in a violet dress with white ruffles. She continued to balk at wearing it, and I continued to promise she could take it off right after the ceremony, putting on her favorite dress and comfortable shoes.

I peeked into the dressing room for the men, noticing Aiden catching a quick glimpse of me in the standing mirror where he stood to straighten his tie. He was handsome, so handsome he made my heart swell just to look at him.

“You’re not supposed to let the groom see his bride on the wedding day. It’s bad luck,” Anna-Marie scorned.

Liana pushed her mother in a wheelchair, one decorated with wedding bells on the back at her insistence. Alyssa and I laughed, both finding her comment ironic. Aiden and I had been married already, legally, and this was just a formality for the family to enjoy and share in the special occasion. We’d lived as husband and wife, sharing a bed, our hearts, and everything precious to us for a while, but we still abided by Anna-Marie’s traditions and slept apart last night.

“I’m starving,” I growled just as my stomach did as Alyssa unzipped the garment bag holding my dress.

“The last fitting, it was a little tight, so let’s get it on first, and then we’ll consider feeding you,” Alyssa teased.

“Consider?” I whined, just as my stomach growled again.

Liana handed me a bottle of water. It wasn’t exactly the cheeseburger I was craving, but it helped as I took a few small sips.

I undressed, no modesty at all, and let Alyssa and Holly help me into the large dress.

As Alyssa worked on fastening the lace, I stared in the mirror at my image. I’d made the right selection. It was a ballroom dress with a low cut front, and gorgeous beadwork all over. It was hot, so I was happy I’d selected the sleeveless gown instead of the one with long, lace sleeves I’d originally loved. It was perfect.

“Suck in,” Alyssa insisted, pulling tightly on the lace ribbons.

“I am,” I assured her.

“Fat and happy,” Alyssa teased under her breath.

I laughed, knowing she was only playing. “Does this mean I don’t get a cheeseburger?” I asked.

Anna-Marie rolled her eyes as she shook her head in amusement, and Liana quickly pulled a mint from her purse, handing it to me.

“Thanks,” I said as graciously as I could.

The priest was reluctant to allow Gunner inside the church, that is, until he saw him in his lavender doggie tux, custom made just for him. He had the ring box tied to his collar with a satin bow, and the priest couldn’t stand to keep him from his part in the ceremony.

Music started, and my knees weakened. I was already married, so I didn’t understand why I was so queasy.

Alyssa took Luke’s arm, and they walked down the aisle to the slow music, while Holly and Gunner waited for their queue. Liam appeared by my side, a wide grin on his face and his arm extended for me to hold.

Holly led Gunner down the aisle, where the packed little church all gasped, awed, and ooed as they made their way to the podium. Gunner took his place near Aiden, who I could now see. My eyes welled up with tears when the bridal march played, and Liam turned to me, giving me a warning, yet playful look.

“What did I say about crying on my tux?” he said softly.

I smiled, pulling myself together, and took the steps towards my husband, the man I would marry again, this time for real, and in front of all these people as witnesses.

“Who gives this woman in marriage?” the priest asked as we made it to Aiden.

“I do,” Liam smiled, and then led my hand into Aiden’s.

It was the thing I feared most, the moment when I’d realize without a doubt that my dad wasn’t there, that neither of my parents were there. But, somehow, I got through it; with Liam by my side and Aiden taking my hand, I didn’t fall apart.

The ceremony was quick, and kind of a blur. When it was over, we were pronounced husband and wife, and Aiden kissed me so hard, so passionately, he nearly tipped me over.

Gunner barked, nipping at our heels as we walked out of the church into the waiting truck. Liam drove us to his house, where a large reception was already set up, complete with a live band, catered meal, and every round table and violet tablecloth that could be found within fifty miles of the small town.

I was exhausted, but I knew it was due to hunger. As soon as we were introduced, the photographer whisked us away for some formal shots. I felt as though I would fall over, light-headed, hot, and hungry.

“Get her some food,” Anna-Marie demanded of one of the guests, a cousin, one I’d never met before.

He rushed over to the buffet, swiping a few morsels of food and brought them back to me. I shoved the meatballs in my mouth, even though they were too hot, and then the three cubes of cheese he handed me. I was still picking at the remnants of my plate when Anna-Marie pulled another guest, most likely another cousin, aside. I watched as she whispered in her ear, and wondered what she was saying. She turned back to me, smiling wildly, and then just nodded. What was she up to?

Finally, the pictures were over, and I was allowed to sit down. Alyssa made my plate, filling with everything just as I suggested, and then teased me about splitting my dress on the dance if I wasn’t careful. She sat beside me, watching me with a strange look.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked.

I wasn’t. I felt sick.

“I’m just hungry,” I sighed, nearly passing out as I took another bite of a meatball.

“I don’t think so. You look pale,” she insisted, standing and tugging at my arm.

“Where are we going?” I protested, not feeling strong enough to stand, let alone walk.

“The bathroom. I want to get you freshened up before all the events start,” she ordered.

She was my maid of honor for a reason, so I listened. It took every ounce of energy I had to make it across their large yard and into the house. As soon as we made it to the bathroom, I bent over, vomiting into the toilet as Alyssa grabbed my hair and guarded my dress with a towel from any splashing.

“I knew you weren’t feeling well,” Alyssa said sternly.

“I’ve just been pushing myself too hard, and this dress is tight, and I was starving,” I gave as excuses.

Anna-Marie rolled into the bathroom, blocking the doorway, still wearing that strange smile as she stared at me.  I sat on the toilet after flushing and closing the lid, and let Alyssa freshen up my face. She handed me a mint, and then another. I felt foolish.

“Is everything okay?” Anna-Marie asked.

“I feel a lot better now,” I admitted.

It was true. I felt a ton better, except for the tight dress.

“I hate to take this off, but can it be loosened?” I asked Alyssa, motioning to the back of my dress.

“Of course,” she agreed, working quickly to give me more space.

“It’s not any of those things,” Anna-Marie declared calmly.

I stared up at her, wondering what she was trying to say, just as she pulled a pink box from her purse.

“What is that?” I asked,

“A test, although we don’t need it. I already know,” Anna-Marie said smugly.

Alyssa grabbed the box, quickly opening it, tearing one of the test applicators from the package.

“Try it,” she insisted, her tone filled with excitement.

“No. I couldn’t be. We always use protection,” I stammered, and then paused as I realized that statement wasn’t true.

There were a few nights, ones where our passion took over, and protection never even made it into our thoughts, let alone into our lovemaking.

I took the test from Alyssa’s hands warily and then told Anna-Marie to stand guard.

Alyssa helped me lift the dress, almost over my head, and then find my panties under the thick hoop skirt. Finally, I was on the toilet, the lid back open, and the test strip between my legs. Having everyone watch me was making it tough to go, so Alyssa turned on the faucet.

Finally, my urine streamed over the test applicator, and then into the bowl. I wiped my hand with a baby wipe, handled cleaning myself up, and then allowed Alyssa to help redress me while Anna-Marie stared at the test on the bathroom counter.

“It’ll take a couple minutes,” I explained to her, but she continued to stare.

“Oh no, I think it’s done. Just as I thought,” she blurted.

I grabbed the test, stared at the line going across the positive screen and nearly passed out.

“I’m pregnant?” I muttered, unable to even think.

Alyssa freshened me up, fixed my makeup, and straightened out my dress. By the time we made it out of the house, Aiden, Luke, and Liam were all on the back porch, headed in to look for us.

Aiden had a worried look on his face as I stopped in front of him, unable to speak. Alyssa was grinning from ear to ear, and Anna-Marie had a gleam of pure pride in her eyes.

“We’re pregnant,” I said softly, lifting the stick to Aiden.

He didn’t speak, not at first. It felt like forever had gone by when he finally did speak, and all it just a howl of excitement, not actual words. He gripped me up by the waist, lifting me into his arms like a baby, and ran through the yard with me, announcing to everyone that we were pregnant. I’d never seen him so excited.

Liana ran across the yard, her arms swallowing both Aiden and me, bouncing and squealing as tears rolled down her cheeks.

It was all so surreal. Here, Aiden and I chose to get married, just to get his family off his back about starting a family, and now look at us. We were married, still, but this time for real, Anna-Marie was living in our garage apartment, with adopting Gunner, we already had a family started, and now we’ll have a child of our own—a real family of our own.

That’s the end of SEAL’s Fake Marriage.

 

HERE’S SOME BONUS BOOKS

 

By Ivy Jordan

 

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

 

Copyright © 2017 Ivy Jordan

 

 

Chapter One

SAWYER

 

“You really need to bring all that shit back with you?” John leaned against my truck and peered inside. I hefted a suitcase over the bed of it and huffed from the effort, then took another bag and repeated the process.

“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t have that much, really. A suitcase, a duffel bag, and one box with some personal memorabilia in it. Most men who came out of the Navy didn’t even have that much, though, and I knew it was strange to hold on to everything the way I did. I couldn’t decide what to part with. It was a decision better made in the comfort of my home, where I could decide what stuck out and what fit in.

“Jesus, it’s gonna be a shitshow when you leave,” John said. “Who the hell is gonna keep the newbies in line?”

“You,” I said, and raised an eyebrow. I pushed the sleeves up on my shirt and pulled the gate up on the bed of the pickup after yanking the bungee cord over the stuff to ensure it wouldn’t fly out. “That’s supposed to be your job, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” John shook his head and backed up from the truck.

I cast a final look at my stuff. A suitcase, a duffel bag, and one box. Six years in this shit, and I had less to show for it than when I’d gone to summer camp for a week in high school. Part of me was grateful that I got to leave most of what happened behind. The SEALs didn’t make for pleasant memories.

“Where are you headed?” John asked.

I thought about it for a minute. I had a few options, none of them guaranteed to pan out in my favor, but I knew the smartest decision would be to go where most of my old friends were. “Probably Austin.”

“See if you can get any sympathy?” John snorted a laugh. That damn laugh had tormented me in all our time overseas, creeping up like some unexpected pest; it was just a snort, a harsh bark, something I couldn’t escape from but could always hear coming. “Stick around, tell them about the war. They’ll usually throw a meal and some money your way.”

“You know I can’t stand that shit.” I sat up against the side of my truck and took my cap off, wiping the sweat from my brow. “It’s wrong, exploiting ourselves for that kind of bullshit.”

“Ain’t wrong if they’re thankful, if they want to, you know?” John shrugged. “Maybe it’s you who feels awful. You don’t think you deserve a free meal, Sawyer? You did a tour with the SEALs. You’ve earned a fuckin’ cheeseburger.”

I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t like that, and he knew it, and I knew it. I wouldn’t turn down free food, but I wouldn’t make a beggar of myself either. “Austin’s just the best bet for me. I don’t really have a plan. Might as well go there.”

“No plan? Most guys are achin’ to get back to a family.”

“You know I never married.” I shoved my cap back onto my head and pushed the bill forward. “Anyway, I should get going. It’s been good serving with you, John.” Even with his snorting laugh, I valued his company and his friendship. 

“Well, shit, you sure you don’t want to stick around?” John spat off to the side and sat up a little. “I mean, I know you don’t have any tours coming up, but you could still hang around the barracks.”

I couldn’t be more determined to leave. I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew better than to stick around here much longer. The place ate at me. Knowing what I’d done in my time serving, knowing what I hadn’t but should have, it all came to the forefront of my mind here. Going to Austin would be a step in any other direction, and that felt right.

“Nah,” was all I said. “I think I’d do best going back.”

“Shit,” he said. I knew he’d miss having someone to clean up after his shit and take care of the recruits, but couldn’t bring myself to care too much about it. Caring was what got us all into these messes in our tours. “Well, good luck out there.”

I had one more night to spend in these barracks. Technically I could have stayed in an apartment with some of the other SEALs, but I didn’t want to see my comrades when I went to take a shower. I preferred to keep them at a distance. Besides, I liked seeing new recruits come in and not know what the hell to do about a SEAL being in their bunker. They always acted a little scared of me.

In the end, the other SEALs decided to sleep in the barracks, too, so there were a bunch of empty apartments and a bunch of SEALs taking up space where they didn’t belong. 

Before I could go back to the barracks, I had one more meeting with my commanding officer. He went by ‘Chief,’ nothing else, and I’d long since forgotten his formal name. I stood outside his office toying with my lighter. I’d stopped smoking cigarettes a while back—the jitteriness that came with them was a luxury I couldn’t afford overseas. In the middle of a dangerous mission, that tiny amount of jitteriness could be the difference between life and death. Still, I liked to fiddle with lighters or shoestring or rubber bands. Busy hands, busy mind.

I could hear Chief bitching at one of the newer guys. It went that way with them; the only way they could earn their keep was by listening to people yell at them nonstop. I remembered my first days of boot camp. I’d been screamed at and screamed at and screamed at until one day I finally screamed back and got hit so hard upside the head that I almost blacked out. Dissent wasn’t an option. We were soldiers, not visionaries. We put up with what they dished out, or we got sent home.

A few people had gotten sent home that first week. Years later, others, in caskets.

Finally, the man walked out of his office. His face looked white, teeth nearly chattering in his skull, and he gave me a nervous stare before sprinting down the hallway. I couldn’t imagine why he’d been yelled at, but it was always something stupid. Boots not shined enough, hair not to standard, a dirty room, even looking at a commanding officer funny, all were criteria for getting screamed at. Sometimes they’d get so close to you that you could feel their breath on your face.

I walked into his office. It was strange that he even had an office, strange to see him sitting down, and stranger that instead of standing up, he remained seated. Usually he liked to look down at people. I snapped to attention, and he nodded at me. “At ease.”

I stood for a second and then sat down. I would miss Chief more than most people here. He was an unassuming man, with mostly lanky limbs and a skinny face; it was easy to think little of him, or at least not think he’d be a force to be reckoned with. But Chief must have known that everyone thought he was a shrimp because he was the single most damning force in the entire Navy. I was more afraid of him than any of the jacked up SEAL captains that breathed down our necks during our beach training.

“We’ll be sad to see you go, Gains,” Chief said. He leaned forward a little, shifting his ass back in his seat. “Not a lot of men have your work ethic.”

“All of the SEALs do,” I replied. That earned me a smile and a little chuckle.

“They have to,” he said. He shook his head. “You know, we could use you up here. Probably could use you to train some of the new recruits.”

“I wouldn’t suit the job,” I said. “Honestly, I think I’d work ‘em too hard. I’m too used to what the SEALs could handle.”

“These men aren’t that,” he agreed. “Still. You don’t have another tour? You’d think they’d want you back.”

I shook my head and adjusted my cap. “No, I don’t think they would. Best they see me off now. Besides, I have things to be doing. A life to get on with.” That was a lie. I had no life—I was the type who joined the military to make something of myself. Now I faced the realization that the military made up all of who I was, and my identity outside of it was faded at best. I didn’t know what to do. But I knew I couldn’t stay here.

Chief rolled his tongue in his mouth, and I suspected he had dip under his lip. We weren’t supposed to do it, but I wasn’t about to rat him out. “You know,” he said, “a lot of you SEALs, you get the wrong idea about things that happen.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You go out, something happens to you, you misconstrue it. Get it all backwards from what actually took place.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I said.

Chief leaned back in his chair, looking at me from over the tops of his glasses. “Uh-huh. Bet you don’t.” He ran a hand over his hair—it was too short to run a hand through it—and swallowed. “I’m saying it isn’t your fault, what happened with James.”

I pulled forward in my chair and started to stand. “I should get back to the barracks,” I managed. I didn’t want to talk about this, and I certainly didn’t want to try and ration through it with a man who I’d only seen screaming at new recruits.

“If you say so,” Chief muttered. He didn’t look angry or suspicious; I half expected him to bitch at me for blowing off his statement, but instead, he shrugged. “It was good serving with you, Gains. You let me know if you ever want to come back.”

I paused before I left. “Thank you,” I said. “But honestly, Chief, I think all I want to do is go back home.”

I walked back through the camp to get to the barracks. Recruits were running left and right with their freshly shaven heads like newly mowed grass. I could tell it had just happened because they stopped and looked at themselves in every reflective surface and had their hands on top of their heads whenever they got the chance. After they’d gotten their heads shaved but before they’d gotten their caps. This was a truly new group.

I remembered it all too well, when this was new. Before this had become my entire world for six years, I’d had one foot back in Austin. Back with my girlfriend, Stacy, and back with what I had left of a family. A job, a life. It had fallen away damn quickly. While I took a shower and got the last few things I owned put in a bag, I thought about whether or not to worry about Stacy.

She wouldn’t be in Austin, anyway. Six years had passed; she’d either be dead from a drug overdose or in some other city. She never could sit still for long.

I lay down in bed and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the other people in the barracks talk over one another, like Boy Scouts on a camp trip unable to shut up and go to bed because of all their excitement. That would wear off soon and give way to exhaustion, relief at the awful mattress on their backs. I closed my eyes.

I wouldn’t need to see Stacy. She wouldn’t be in town. If she was, I wouldn’t run into her. In any case, I prayed to anything that was listening that I could avoid her. I’d survived bombings, I’d survived gunfire, but I didn’t know if I could survive another round with Stacy Black.