“I thought you were being dramatic. Thought it was one of your weird observations that didn’t mean much.” My jaw clenches. “But you were onto
something.”
I pause, eyes drifting across the rows of white marble that stretch like frozen waves across the hills.
0
not always. Sometimes it’s the taste of metal in your mouth “It’s never the big things. Not at first. It’s not the explosions, or the firefights, or the blood after biting your lip too hard. Sometimes it’s the way your boots sound in an empty hallway. Sometimes it’s cranberry juice.”
I glance back down at Night’s name etched into stone. The letters are sharp, unwavering.
“You were always the first to notice when one of us started drifting. You noticed Rooster chewing the skin off his knuckles before anyone else did. You caught Boomer going silent after that op in Libya. You noticed me when I couldn’t sleep for five days straight but kept saying I was fine.”
My throat tightens.
“I wish I’d noticed you sooner.”
The silence that follows is sharp enough to carve.
“I wish I’d done something. Anything. Asked harder questions. Stuck around after mission briefs. I don’t know, man. Something. Four years, and I’ve come to terms with what happened on that mission. I’ve accepted it – because I had to. But I sure as hell don’t want it happening to anyone else. Not on my watch.”
The wind stirs again. A bird lands on a nearby branch. Its head tilts toward me like it’s listening.
“I’ve made it part of training now,” I go on. “Every team has to go through scenario–based emotional response checks. It’s not just about physical reaction time anymore. It’s about heart rate. Eye dilation. Cortisol levels. We’re tracking it all. You’d probably call it overkill.”
I smile faintly. “But I call it protecting my people.”
Another pause.
“I wish you were here. You’d tear the new kids apart in drills but then hand them a protein bar after and make them think you were the nicest guy in the world. You had a way of making us feel like we weren’t going crazy. Like it was okay to carry shit, as long as we didn’t carry it alone.”
I lean back against the bench. My hands drop into my lap.
“And then there’s Penny.”
A different smile now. One with weight behind it. With heat.
“She’s…” I shake my head. “She’s everything, Night.”
“She’s light. Not in that empty way. Not like something bright and easy to forget. She’s… warm. Gentle, Strong. That kind of softness that makes you feel like maybe the world isn’t always trying to burn itself down.”
I glance up at the sky.
“For the longest time, I thought she was too good for me. Hell, sometimes I still do. I thought that if I got too close, I’d break her. Smother her with all the shit I carry. The ghosts. The guilt. The anger.”
I breathe out slow.
2/3
4:31 pm
Chapter 320
“But she never flinched. She never looked away. She held it all. All of me.”
I look back at the tombstone.
“She’s the reason I kept going. After you. After everything.”
A pause.
“I think I was what she needed too. At least… I hope I was. Am.”
I press my palms together, elbows still resting on my knees.
“She doesn’t know I came here today. I didn’t want her to worry. But I needed to see you. To talk. I know it’s just stone and grass, but…”
I shrug.
“You were always the best listener.”
The sun is starting to shift, the shadows longer now.
I glance at my watch.
“Alright, old man,” I say with a breath. “I should go home. She’ll be waiting. Probably barefoot in the kitchen, pretending she’s not sore even though I know damn well she’s gonna be icing that knee later.”
I stand slowly, stretch my back, and pick up the now–warm bottle of root beer.
“I’ll come again soon.”
I brush my knuckles gently against the edge of the stone.
“And hey… wherever you are, I hope there’s no cranberry juice.”
Then I turn.
And I walk away, toward the car, toward home, toward the only kind of peace that ever made sense to me after war.
Her.
Comments
Helena Cloete
This chapter had me ugly crying so bad. My husband thought I was hurt.
7 days ago
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
