We fall asleep in one another's arms, with her just cradled against me, my hand rests on her perfect breast. I run my thumb over her nipples as she falls asleep against me.

"That was everything," she whispers, pressing a kiss to my skin.

I breathe her in. She smells like essential oils--that cardamom and bergamot--and it soothes me. There is a depth to her, and it's not just the scent of ancient spices lingering in her hair, on her skin, it's more than that. It's who she is, at her core.

And while it soothes me, it also scares me--the magnitude of what I feel for her. And as I hold her, so small and tender in my arms, I'm scared. Because everyone I get close to--except my brother--has died. I watched my buddies go down, one by one, and I couldn't save them, no matter how fucking hard I tried.

I don't want to fail Hannah.

Memories fill my dreams and they’re not good ones. Moments of fear, where I fought through the enemy lines and took hold of a fallen soldier, where I carried him through the battleground, praying that he was safe. Alive.

Still fucking breathing.

Too often they weren't. And I would fight through the night, using my medic training to guide the way. Hoping like hell that my they'd pull through. That the shots weren't fatal. That the strikes weren't deadly.

All too often they were.

I knew a hell of a lot as a Green Beret--but still, there were so many moments where I just didn't know enough.

My therapist, after each tour, would drill it into me and try to get me to understand that it wasn't about me letting them down. I did all I could do. They told me that some injuries are too severe. That not all men can be saved.

But it's impossible to think I did enough. Because in the end, I am here, and they are buried six feet deep.

And now look at me? Holding a woman in my arms who is so fucking precious, so damn beautiful. I am here, and they are gone, and it kills me to think about it.

Still, all night, I toss and turn, my humanity wreaking havoc on my emotions. When I wake, I'm sweaty and exhausted and full of doubts. Hannah is sleeping soundly beside me in bed, and for that I'm glad. No need for both of us to be torn up inside.

I shower and get ready for the day but feel like I'm a mess and wish I wasn't so damn weak. Truth is, I need to get outside and clear my head. Make sure I am really cut out for being a husband. Damn, I already feel those old fears rising up in me--fear that I will fuck it all up. Mess it all up.

Not be able to keep her safe when she needs me to.

Heading to the kitchen I make coffee and scramble some eggs. I pull out the champagne, popping the cork, and find a jug of orange juice. I take the cake from the fridge and make up a tray for breakfast in bed.

I've never done this sort of thing, but I need to take control of my emotions, and taking care of Hannah helps me with that.

She's sitting up, a sheet twisted around her, a smile spreading across her face. "Seriously? Breakfast in bed? You deserve a reward."

I shrug, setting down the tray on the mattress, not thinking that making my wife-to-be breakfast is anything to get a prize for.

"Hope you like vanilla frosting," I say, pointing to the slice of cake.

She laughs, her fork already diving into the piece of cake. "Um, I like anything with sugar."

"Me too."

"Really?" She scrunches up her nose, looking ridiculously adorable as she does. This woman is really too good to be true. "You don't look like you have a sweet tooth."

"I told you, I go out on the trails a lot. Spend a lot of time hiking and making sure I can practice what I preach."

"You mean what you're writing about?"

"Exactly."

"So, when do you think we can go to the courthouse?" she asks, as she picks up her coffee and takes a sip.

"Actually, uh, I think we should wait."

Her face falls. "Why?"

I sigh, running a hand over my beard. "I need to go to the woods for a few days. I didn't want to leave without telling you."

She frowns. "You are seriously ditching me in the middle of nowhere? Why?"

"There is a security system at the house. I'll be gone one night, nothing more. I just need to think."

"And you can't think here, with me?"

I clench my jaw, not answering. Not knowing how to answer. Not knowing how to do this at all. Dammit, I opened up last night and in the moment, it felt good, but now, I just feel raw. Vulnerable. Seen, when all I want is to hide.

"This is why you made me breakfast in bed, isn't it? Sweetening me up before you break my heart." She pushes the food away and stands up from the bed, the sheet wrapped around her, hurt in her eyes.

I did that to her, just like I knew I would.

What business do I have holding a woman's heart in my hands anyway?

"I'm not trying to hurt you," I say, knowing how insignificant the words are.

But she shakes her head, lifting a hand in the air, signaling me to stop. "Don't. Please. Just go do your walk-about. I shouldn't be surprised. You were too good to be true, Harrison."

"You're right," I say as she shuts the door to the bathroom. "You're absolutely right."