Epilogue

Katy

8 MONTHS LATER

None of it was easy. None of it. Not a minute of Briggs’s recovery. Not the trip home, where we had to separate once again for the sake of what remained of my family. Nor the day Gavin and I put our home up for sale or signed those divorce papers.

No part of the time after we left Germany, united in heart but torn apart by circumstance, was made easier by the dissolution of my marriage to a man who loved me so selflessly, that he let me go to be with another.

I’m still in therapy.

I still wake up with nightmares. Still at times a prisoner in my own mind.

I still fight the void that threatens to consume me when I feel helpless against my weaknesses.

But there’s one thing that I’m capable of without effort, and that’s my ability to love. And in love, there is so much healing.

Muscular arms circle my body as warm lips press against my neck, sending a chill up my spine and goosebumps across my flesh.

“Ready?”

“Think so,” I say, standing at the edge of the door, staring at the expansive sand.

I look over at him with clear apprehension. “Did you get—”

“Got it,” he says, cutting me off as he takes my hand in his.

“You didn’t even let me ask, Briggs.”

“We’re good. I promise. Tell me what you’re afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” I say timidly. “I’m just scared.”

“Well,” he says, looking at me and trying not to smile, “judging by the weight of that bag on your shoulder, we’re missing nothing.”

“Save that smirk,” I snap, “or I’ll bite those lips off.”

He leans in with a whisper. “You keep that up, it’s going to be hard to hide this hard-on.”

“Damn you,” I snip, letting out a nervous laugh.

“I love you,” he whispers softly. “It’s us; we’re like the Titanic.”

I wrinkle my nose. “The Titanic sunk.”

“But it’s still there, even if it’s not visible. That’s us, isn’t it? We’ve weathered everything. I think we can handle this.”

“I’m going to need a different and much better analogy, Briggs.”

“Okay we’re like a set of horse balls,” he says with a chuckle.

“Forget it,” I say. “I’m seriously panicking, and you’re making jokes.”

“That’s why you love me,” he coos before turning my chin with his finger.

“One of the reasons, yes.”

“I’ll give you at least four more tonight,” he whispers as he leans in. “Five, if you play your cards right.”

“I never beat you in cards,” I pout. “You never let me.”

“And I never will. I have a feeling you’ll beat me on your own, eventually.”

“Bet your ass I will,” I swear, and I will. Just as soon as I can figure out how he cheats and do the same.

“I don’t cheat, Scottie.”

My lips part in surprise.

“Yes, I can read your mind,” he says. “One of the perks of being half the Titanic.”

“You’d be a horrible motivational speaker,” I snark, feeling a little lighter. I clasp my arms around his neck, pressing my chest to his. “But I would always show up to listen.”

“It’s my drawl, isn’t it?” he says smugly. “It’s always been the drawl.”

“I love you,” I say truthfully. “So much.”

“Then take my hand and let’s walk out this door.”

“Okay,” I agree, feeling ridiculous.

“Give me them lips,” he commands as my desire spikes. Full lips capture mine in a breath-stealing kiss. I sigh into him before he thrusts his tongue inside, sweeping me away with his rhythm. Moaning into his mouth, I pull him tighter to me and sink into his tall frame, my hands roaming over his shoulders before I trace the scar on his chest with my fingertips. Pulling away, we share a dazed smile. Unable to help myself, I press my lips to the scar mere inches from his heart. Calloused fingers slide up the back of my neck as I kiss it again and again, thankful. So fucking thankful.

“Killing me, Scottie,” he whispers.

Flushed, and a little embarrassed, I shake my head. “Sorry.”

“God, that’s sexy,” he mutters, stroking the heat from my face with deft fingers.

The sun in his eyes shines brightly over the bleak feeling slowly invading me, and I feel a little safer, a little bolder, and a whole hell of a lot sexier.

“I’m ready, Mom!” Noah calls as he bursts through the door of the bathroom in a full sprint before wiggling himself between us.

Briggs glances down at Noah before he bursts out laughing. “Dear God, boy.” He looks back up at me. “Are you happy? You told him to put on more sunscreen, and now your son looks like a glue stick.”

Laughter bursts from my chest as I study Noah. He does, in fact, look like a glue stick with curly blond hair.

“He’s a blond. We burn easier,” I say in shitty defense as Chris tries his best to rub the lotion in.

I didn’t introduce them for months. On the days when Gavin kept Noah, I went to the ranch, which is only two hours away from Killeen. It was an easy commute for me. I rented an apartment close to Noah’s school because there was no need to uproot him. While the initial transitioning was hard, it’s getting a little easier. My main concern is overstepping with Gavin. He’d shown too much grace, and I wasn’t about to throw it in his face with my new relationship. When we speak, it’s always brief, and I have to respect that. He’s moving on with his new life and mine has just started.

Chris worked his magic on my son, much like he does the rest of the world. He lets his light shine just a little, and they come flocking to him. Noah was more curious than anything. And when Gavin and I sat him down to give him the news of our divorce, I gave him honest answers. Answers that hurt him, that made him angry with me, angry with Briggs, and let Gavin off the hook. It was one of the worst nights of my life.

In the end, I am the reason, but I’m slowly making peace with it because I refuse to let this love I feel be condemned any more than it already has. This love brought me back—they brought me back.

I stare at the two men my heart thrives for as they get themselves together, looking over at me with expectant eyes.

“Let’s go,” I say, clasping hands with the both of them as we step out onto the sand. Noah tries to rip himself away from my grip, but I hold on tight.

“There are rules, little man—”

“Let a man be a man, Mom,” Noah pipes up, leaving me stunned.

My answering glare is directed straight at the horse’s mouth—the one I know that comment was birthed from. Briggs winces under the weight of it, an oh shit look covering his features. Blowing out a breath, I surprise myself by laughing, because how can I fault the character traits of a man I’m so madly in love with?

Noah smiles up at me with surprise. “Oh, you’re in trouble, just not today,” I say, and his smile disappears.

“I’ve got him, Katy,” Briggs says with confidence, his gentle gaze prompting mine to remember a time when we were still making plans in a place we never thought we’d leave.

“I want to take Noah to the beach. He’s never been. Clear blue water, not the shitty kind in Galveston. I want to watch him make sandcastles and see his reaction to the waves. If I don’t do anything else, that’s what I want the most.”

“Let me give it to you,” Briggs whispers, reading my thoughts.

Nodding, I let go of Noah’s hand as he accepts his, and they make their way toward the sparkling surf. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined I would see my plan unfold this way.

No, it hasn’t been easy. We’ve walked through the past sixteen months as lost souls with scarred hearts. It was only in breaths we shared together that we found relief. It wasn’t through longing or passion that we discovered our unbreakable bonds; it was through love and loyalty. And I realize now, it’s not because of the way I love the men in my life, it’s because of the way they love me.

Briggs

Katy kneels in the sand, still in the yellow bikini I had to beg her to bring, along with the cover-up I tried to hide before we got here. The breeze lifts her long golden curls away from her face as she works with the lanterns to get them set up.

“Is he asleep?” she asks in a tearful voice. Sliding the glass door to our suite shut, I make quick strides her way before kneeling in front of her.

“He’s out, in our bed,” I say, holding the first lantern as she moves on to the next.

“These are the joys of parenting,” she says. Her tone apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll live,” I say, as I rub a tear away from her chin.

She works to construct the lantern with Jones written on it as she looks over to me with agony-laced eyes. “Shit.” She blows out a breath and gives herself a moment. But the tears in her eyes hit me deep, and I share in her pain as I stare at the letters, my own eyes starting to water.

“He was so damned funny,” she whispers. “Funnier than you,” she remarks snidely as a tear drops, clearing some of the sand on her foot.

“I think you and I are the only people who realized that.”

“Don’t be so smug, Briggs,” she says, handing me the finished lantern. “We all liked him more,” she teases.

Scottie pulls Morrero’s lantern over next. “How was his mother when you went?”

It’s the first time she’s asked since I got back from California last month. I didn’t want to share it with her unless she wanted to hear it, and I refuse to lie.

“She’s trying hard to mend, like us.”

“Yeah,” she agrees as the sun sinks past the horizon, just beyond her shoulders.

As she pulls Mullins’s lantern to her lap last, I physically feel her falter.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” she says, sinking with the weight of it as I pull her into my lap and start working the bracket for her. She grips my bicep and holds on tight while quietly shaking in my arms. After the few minutes it takes to construct the lantern, I’m finally able to speak. “It’s the perfect idea,” I say, my voice hoarse as she looks up at my face, realizing I’m not far from breaking myself.

We sit for endless minutes in silence before I speak up.

“I think Morrero was falling for Mullins,” I say, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m pretty sure of it.”

She gapes over at me, clearly in shock.

“I thought so, too.”

“You think,” I say cautiously, “you think maybe they thought the same of us?”

“Mullins didn’t miss anything,” she says with the shake of her head. “But it makes me happy to know she found love before…” She pauses. “Before she died.”

The strongest, bravest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known looks over to me with carefully placed resignation. “Ready?”

“Waiting on you, Scottie,” I say, pulling the lighter we purchased out of my pocket.

We light Jones first, and he takes off like a torpedo into the salty breeze before gently floating up and away.

“Isn’t that just like you?” I say to him with a tearful chuckle.

Scottie grips my hand as we stare at the bright light until it begins to fade.

She holds up Morrero and Mullins. “Should we let these two go together?”

“Yeah, I like that idea,” I reply.

“You’ll always be my favorite,” she promises as she lets Mullins go. “Thank you.” They float up together in a graceful dance on the same drift before fading away into the night sky.

Minutes later, Scottie’s encased in my arms as we stare at the surf, both melancholy and feeling a little lighter.

“Briggs?”

“Yeah, beautiful?” I whisper as I capture her idle hand on my knee and thread our fingers before pulling her closer to my chest.

“Let’s make more plans.”

“Sounds good to me. What did you have in mind?” I know mine. I know what I want—what I hope for every time she falls asleep in my arms. But half the battle was wanting time to stop. And it’s in that sand that I realize I haven’t heard that awful sound since I saw her in Germany. No matter how hard the past eight months have been, in the way I’ve missed her, I’ve never once heard it. I realize then I’ll no longer die a soldier or thief. Here on this beach, our future unfolds rapidly in front of me, in color. It was always there—I just had to battle time to see it.

I see sun-filled days on green pastures and nights in rocking chairs. Poker games leading to feuds that end in nights with her wrapped around me. I see a white dress and blonde hair blowing in the breeze. I see love and laughter. I see forever.

“You know what, Scottie,” I say, before pressing a kiss to her temple. “I think I’ll start.”

Gavin

TEN YEARS LATER

“Careful, Son,” I warn as I watch Noah place Gracie on the saddle.

“I’ve got her, Dad,” he says as she squeals with delight. Shaking my head, I stare on in worry as she bounces up and down on the one-ton horse without a care in the world. Chris and I share a look. Reading my posture, he jumps the fence, and in seconds he’s guiding the horse by the bridle in an easy trot.

“He knows what he’s doing,” Katy assures me, gently grabbing my hand and squeezing it before letting go. “Can you believe he’s eighteen?” she says with a sigh.

Pride swells in my chest as Noah helps guide his sister around the pen Chris built for “little people”—specifically for my daughter.

“She’s so beautiful,” Katy says with a grin. “How old is she now?”

“Thank you. She just turned six,” I say, glancing over at Katy. “Think you’ll ever have any more?”

She shrugs. “If it happens, it happens. We’re not preventing it anymore.” She lifts her eyes to mine. “I just wanted to make sure I was capable.”

“You’re more than capable.” And she is.

“We’ll see, I’m only thirty-seven. I think we’ve got something special with the one I have.”

“Agreed.”

Katy married Chris a few years after our divorce. Her recovery wasn’t easy. It took her years to finally become a registered nurse, but once she tackled it, she made it her life’s work. It was hard for me to watch her progress from the sidelines, but I was no longer the man in her life. Though I didn’t always show it, I was cheering her on—for Noah, for myself, and because I still loved her—always will.

It wasn’t easy letting go of old hurts. In fact, if someone had told me ten years ago that Chris Briggs and I would one day have something that resembled friendship, I would have laughed in their face. What transpired after I divorced Katy wasn’t easy to get through, but it was made bearable by the woman gliding down the gravel drive in a brand-new pickup truck.

Noah remains blissfully unaware as she jumps out and gives me a knowing grin before flipping her long auburn hair away from her shoulder. I met Molly during one of the lowest points in my life. I gave her hell, and she loved me through it. Never did I think myself capable of finding what I lost, but as it turns out, sometimes you don’t have to go looking for it. Sometimes it finds you.

“Oh, I know that smile,” Katy says with a chuckle. “Mind yourself, Captain, there are children present,” she scolds with the shake of her head.

“Sorry if that was weird,” I say, scouring the expansive ranch.

“Don’t apologize to me for being happy,” she says easily. “Ever.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“It’s all I want for you,” she says on a whisper.

We watch our families interact with such ease for several moments before I turn to Katy to speak, but I see she’s grappling with something that’s left her rooted where she stands.

“God, I know we agreed, but I don’t think I’m ready, Gavin. Do you think he can handle this? A truck of his own?”

Just as I’m about to reply, Noah’s voice breaks through.

“Holy Crap! Mom! Dad! You did this?” Noah exclaims as he spots his new pride and joy. “Molly!” he questions, sauntering toward the truck as his stepmother gathers Gracie in her arms and follows. She spent weeks looking for the right fit for Noah. They’re close, and I can feel the elation coming off her.

“I think it’s too late, Katy,” I say with a chuckle.

Molly must have said something because Noah pokes his head out of the open driver’s side door. “MOM! You knew about this?”

Katy just nods. “Ask your stepfather how fun this conversation was. And just so you know, he won.”

Noah bumps fists with Chris as he ducks his head in the cabin. Noah’s grown tall, his blond curls cropped short, but even with all his changes, he’s the spitting image of his mother. It used to sting, but now it just reminds me that I’ve loved more than once in my life, and I do it the best way I know how.

Katy and I watch as Chris takes my daughter in his arms, and his face gets animated. Something about that strikes Katy and I both. We stand there, paralyzed in conflicting emotion, as her hand brushes mine at our sides before she turns to me with watery eyes.

“We did good, right?” Her eyes flit to Noah and back to me.

I pull her into my arms, and we clutch each other tightly through ten years of space.

“We did so good, Katy,” I promise. We hug each other tighter before letting go.

She lets out a little nervous laughter through her tears. “Gavin, you sure he’s ready for this?”

I look over to the woman I would still move heaven and earth for—a woman who I thought would take up the whole of my life, but turned out was only the first half of it. The words fall easily from my lips.

“Trust me?”

Her eyes widen slightly, but she answers without hesitation, a beaming smile on her face.

“Always.”

“Still love me?”

“Forever.”

 

 

September 25th

Gavin,

It’s noisy tonight. The mix of soldiers are restless around me, and I feel the same way for a different reason. After hanging up the phone earlier, I felt guilty because I put space between us. Because I wasn’t truthful. I was trying to follow Mullins’s advice and “soldier up.” I was putting on a brave front, when the truth is, I don’t want to be here. My heart has changed so drastically since the time I met you, and so has my life. And I consider those changes the best thing that’s ever happened to me. The truth is, I feel ridiculed for having never-ending devotion to the man I have waiting at home, so much that I’m never really present here. I’ve tried—God how I’ve tried—but the only place in the world I know I’ll fit is with you. In your arms, kissing your lips, being your wife and Noah’s mother.

When I think of you, only one word springs to mind: golden. I know it may sound crazy, but that’s the word that strikes me every time I look at you. In a way, I feel like life delivered my gifts early, and you were the first. Our love is exactly that beautiful hue of yellow that shines so brightly in our bedroom on the mornings you make love to me. It’s in our son’s hair, in your voice, in the way we look at each other. Everything I know about love you taught me, through patience and understanding. You raised my heart, trained it to love you in the best imaginable way. And this heart loves you beat by beat, as the seconds, minutes, and hours tick by.

Please don’t worry. This letter isn’t meant to scare you. I’m still here. Still in it. Still fighting to get back home to you, where I belong. I just want to be clear that my life with you is exactly what I want. It’s more than I dared to hope for myself. I can’t wait to make that baby with you, Captain, and I’m dreaming of the ways to make it happen.

So, let them ridicule me for the truth, and I’ll gladly wave the white flag and declare that I know with certainty that my heart is in exactly the right place—with you.

Forever,

Katy