Prologue
Eight years ago
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Ensign.”
At the senator’s tone, a fine sheen of sweat formed behind the collar of Aidan’s service dress uniform. His fingers itched to tug at the stiff polyester, but instead clasped themselves around the thin wedding band he’d started wearing yesterday, reassuring himself that Leia Bellamy was his now. His forever. And nothing the powerful chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee could do would change that.
“Sir?”
“I’m owed a significant number of favors at the State House in Annapolis,” Senator Bellamy continued, his voice slick and unwavering as he casually toyed with a stack of papers on his desk. “I’ll put in a few phone calls, and by the end of the hour, your marriage to my daughter will cease to exist.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
Lifting his eyes to Aidan’s, the senator’s nostrils flared. “For what? For marrying my twenty-year-old daughter in some shotgun wedding at the Justice of the Peace? No, Ensign, I don’t think I can excuse that at all.”
Behind his ribcage, Aidan’s heartrate accelerated. Leia had warned him that her father wouldn’t like what they’d done after Commissioning Week at the United States Naval Academy. But like Aidan, she hadn’t cared what anyone would think at the time, until this morning when the senator had demanded a meeting with Aidan in private. “Sir, with all due respect, our marriage did take place. I have the certificate. She is my wife.”
“She is my daughter. You are nothing more than a randy ensign who took advantage of a young girl.”
“Leia’s twenty years old, Sir. She knew what she was doing. We’ve dated for more than a year.”
“A year out of my daughter’s life is nothing compared to what I’ve invested in her. Do you know the kind of education and upbringing she’s had, Ensign? Private schools, colleges, an MBA in her future. She’ll be a CEO before you even manage to pin a gold oak leaf on your uniform.”
“Sir, I know how smart she is. I know how ambitious and focused she is. It’s part of the reason I love her.”
Reaching into his desk, Senator Bellamy sighed with annoyance. “I can see where this is headed, Aidan, so let’s just cut to the chase.” He pulled out a leather-bound checkbook. “How much will it take to sweeten the deal for you? Ten thousand to walk away and pretend this marriage never happened? Twenty?”
Aidan tucked his chin toward his chest. “I don’t want your money.” His tone was clipped as he left off the customary “sir” that had been ingrained in him during his years at the Naval Academy. The senator’s offer didn’t deserve the respect of it.
The senator slapped his hand down on the desk. “God damn you, boy. I will not be seen as the senator whose daughter is barefoot-and-pregnant before she can take a legal drink. Before she has her degree. Before she’s made a name for herself. She’s a Bellamy. That counts for something in this town. In this country. You think you’re the only one with a duty to our nation because you wear that uniform? You’re not. It’s families like ours that run this nation. That build companies and create jobs. I’d bought and sold major corporations before I ever turned to public service. And I raised my two daughters to serve as paradigms of what can be attained through a good education and hard work—not so that the press can depict them as college dropouts who couldn’t keep their hormones in check until they’d made a name for themselves. I won’t stand for it, do you understand me?”
Aidan bristled. “First off, she’s not pregnant, sir. Secondly, we have no plans to start a family until she’s well on her way toward the goals she wants for herself. I plan to back up every one of her dreams. They’re as important to me as they are to her.”
“And how do you plan to do that with you as an ensign in the Navy?”
“We’ve decided that she’ll stay at Georgetown for the next two years until she finishes college. She’s too close to her degree to give it up now, and I’ll be away at sea much of the time, anyway. When I’m stateside, I’ll visit whenever I can. After she gets her degree, I’m hoping I’ll get stationed near a school where she can get her MBA like she’d planned. There are plenty of Navy bases along the East coast.”
His eyes peered out through narrow slits. “Oh, I see. And I’m sure you plan on asking me to pull a few strings to ensure you get such a post.”
“Absolutely not, sir. I plan on doing it on my own.”
Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms across his chest. “And you’ll support her on your own, I suppose?”
“I—of course.”
“Do you have any idea how much her tuition is at Georgetown?”
His heart hammered, having not actually considered it before. “I—imagine it’s plenty.”
“And I’m sure you weren’t expecting for me to subsidize a marriage that I don’t believe in.”
“Sir?”
“Well, if Leia’s adult enough to get married without my blessing, she’s certainly adult enough to pay her own way in life. And I have better places to put my money than into her education or car payments or that nice apartment she rents in Annapolis.”
Suddenly, Aidan found his shoulders slumping, with his and Leia’s last-minute plans not seeming as well thought out as they had in the post-commissioning rush. “If that’s the way you feel, Sir, then I understand.”
“Good. Because I won’t be paying money so that you can play house with my daughter when you feel like it.”
Aidan straightened. “I didn’t marry your daughter so that I could play house with her. I married her because I love her and I’m going on a warship in a matter of days and I want to make sure she has all the rights that are afforded her.” It had really been that simple, Aidan reminded himself. If something happened to him while he was away, he’d wanted Leia to have the support and services that were granted a wife, not a girlfriend.
“We can adjust our plans,” Aidan continued, trying to sound confident, even though he knew the idea of dropping out of Georgetown might shatter Leia. “And she can live with me on base housing. She might not finish her degree at Georgetown, but with her business sense, I have no doubt she’ll still excel,” he finished weakly, not because he didn’t believe in his wife’s capabilities, but because he was sickened by the idea that he was standing in her way. He’d married her to make her life better—easier somehow—not more difficult.
“Excellent,” the senator remarked, sarcasm hanging in the air like a thick fog between them. “And while she’s racking up tuition debt at some online university or state college, you can also find her a nice beater car to get her around town while you’re off playing Popeye.”
Trying desperately to lighten the mood, Aidan forced a laugh. “I think I can do better than a beater.”
“And she’ll need credit cards to fix its transmission and for all those things she likes to buy, and eating out like she enjoys. After all, you’ll be away for much of the time and you can’t expect her to sit around bored in your one-bedroom apartment on base.”
Aidan pictured it then, Leia alone, far from friends and family, living in one of the small apartments supplied to childless O-1s at the start of their careers. How would she spend her time while he was at sea? On his pay, how would she possibly budget for the things that always brought her pleasure—the nice clothes she wore, the purses and shoes that she seemed to collect in her current walk-in closet?
But she loved him more than any of those things. He knew that. He reminded himself it, even as the senator stood, walked to the front of his desk, and leaned against it.
At 6’2”, Aidan towered over the senator by five inches when standing. But right then, sitting in a chair with the well-connected politician staring down at him, Aidan felt small and powerless.
“You know the life that’s ahead of her as your wife, Aidan. I had your past investigated when you started dating my daughter.” The senator almost looked sympathetic just then. Yet it was only on the surface, as though part of the façade that got him re-elected every six years. “I know how your parents struggled. You know what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, finding yourself further in debt each month for no other reason except that you want to feed your kids and make sure they’ve got the basics. Do you really think that’s the kind of life Leia wants to live?”
Aidan could picture it then, so clearly that it shook him to his core—the small apartment where he and his family lived before they’d managed to get a house. He remembered the noisy neighbors with the incessant thump-thump-thumping of their music while he tried to nap as a little boy. He remembered the overcrowded day care facility where he was dropped off while his mom worked, and how his father was home barely enough hours from his two jobs for Aidan to even remember what he’d looked like in those early years.
His gut churned, ready to admit he hadn’t thought this through until the good memories of his childhood thrust past the bad ones, and Aidan was struck by the laughter and love that was the cornerstone of his family. He might not have been raised in a life of privilege like Leia had, but he’d been given a solid foundation for a future.
“She loves me, Sir. And I love her. And despite what you think, I can provide for her. If you choose to take away the things she has now, I understand, and it will make things harder for us, but I’ve survived worse.”
“And has Leia?”
“Leia’s a lot tougher than you think, Sir.” Yet even as he strategically laced his tone with certainty, doubt simmered inside his veins.
“You think you’re going to make something of yourself? Well, good for you. Go do it. Ask her to marry you again when you’ve got more to offer her than nothing. But don’t you dare stand in my daughter’s way.”
“Sir, you’re the one talking about cutting her off. Not me.”
“Damn right I’ll cut her off. I’d rather she learns the consequences of crossing me and my plans for her than—” He stopped, his features constraining as though he hadn’t meant to say the words that had slipped from his lips.
Aidan remained silent, suddenly seeing this had more to do with the senator’s plans than Leia’s.
Senator Bellamy’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t try to turn this around on me, Son, or you’ll find yourself in a battle you can’t possibly win,” he threatened, walking back around the perimeter of his desk. “I’m the Chairman of the Armed Services Committee. Don’t think I can’t pick up that phone and have you stationed in goddamn Antarctica if I want it.” He sat again, leaning back in the leather chair.
“I’m not trying to be disrespectful, Sir. But you underestimate me, Leia, and our love for each other.”
“Maybe. But I’m not underestimating human nature. And as much as my daughter loves you—I’m not questioning that—but as much as she loves you, one day she’ll look at you and regret the day she married you. If your love for each other is strong enough, then take my offer. If you think her love for you is too weak, if you think she won’t still love you after she’s on the path toward the future that I want—that she wants for herself,” he quickly amended, “then by all means, keep her chained to you and the life you can give her.”
“Sir, I took a vow.”
“To love and honor her, I’m sure. And how is it honoring her to strip away all the dreams she’s had? There’s no honor in that. Only selfishness.” He lowered his gaze on the young ensign. “Take my offer. Let me make your hasty marriage disappear from the books so that she can become the person she was destined to be while you get yourself established in the world.”
Aidan’s fingers gripped the wedding band once more, and he remembered the moment Leia had slipped it on his finger at the Justice of the Peace. He could feel her hands in his again as he enclosed her palm in his. And he could remember the image of her he’d savored in that first moment that they were husband and wife—her flawless young face, framed in the long, coffee-colored locks that draped over the simple white dress she’d worn.
She always looked as hopeful as she had that day they’d married—her clear eyes never marred by frustration or worry—as though she was certain that her future would always be bright and filled with promise.
He tried to imagine his Leia with the same lines of worry that always creased his mother’s brow when the bills came in. The anxious looks shared with his father when their paychecks weren’t enough to cover the needs of their children.
That was something he’d never seen on Leia in the precious time he’d spent loving her—that worry, that feeling that all the hard work in the world wouldn’t suffice. And dammit, he didn’t want to see it, knowing that it was her marriage to him that had caused it.
“And if I say yes,” Aidan began, his words tentative, as though making a deal with the devil himself, “and she finishes school and still wants to marry me, you won’t stand in her way?”
In that moment—that split second when Aidan had dared to let doubt crack through the armor of his love—Aidan knew his life would never be the same.