Chapter 7 #5
The admission made something warm and hopeful bloom in his chest. She wasn’t just tolerating his attention—she welcomed it, enjoyed it, wanted more of it.
He glanced at the enormity of the Colosseum and realized the venue was insignificant compared to the relationship they were building. That was enormous.
Talon: One year ago today, I found you in that container.
It felt like a lifetime and an instant all at once. One year since the worst day of her life became the beginning of the best thing in his.
Riley: Yes, I remember your eyes. Green and so kind.
He wondered if she thought about it the way he did. Not just as the day she was rescued, but as the day their story began. She’d worked through so much in the past year. Was he stupid for thinking she would see that day as anything but the bottom dregs of her life?
Talon: Did you ever think we'd end up here?
Where they texted every day, where she was the first person he wanted to share good news with and the last person he talked to before sleep. Where he wanted to fly across the ocean just to take her to dinner and see if the connection that felt so real through screens was even stronger in person?
Riley: Honestly? No. I thought I'd never trust anyone again.
Trust. She'd told him a long time ago that she couldn't name anyone she trusted completely. Now, she trusted him. With her thoughts, her fears, her progress, and her setbacks.
Talon: What changed?
He knew what had changed for him. His priorities, his definition of success, his understanding of what mattered. But he wanted to hear it from her, wanted to know what their connection meant from her perspective.
Riley: You. Your patience. Your terrible jokes from foreign airports.
He'd never thought of himself as particularly patient—tactical situations required quick decisions, decisive action. But with Riley, patience had been essential. Letting her heal at her own pace, building trust slowly, and allowing the relationship to develop naturally instead of forcing it.
Talon: My jokes aren't terrible.
They were pretty terrible, actually, but she laughed at them anyway. Or at least, he imagined she did.
Riley: They're wonderfully terrible. Thank you for saving me in every way a person can be saved.
He typed his response without editing it, hitting send and allowing himself to be vulnerable.
Talon: You don't know it, but you've saved me, too.
Saved him from a life that was all mission, all tactical objectives, with no emotional connection.
She'd reminded him that he was more than just his job, that there was a world worth protecting, not just because it was his duty, but because it contained people like her. There were people worth loving.
One year ago, he'd been a man who saved people for a living. Now, he was a man who'd been saved by the person he'd rescued. The irony wasn't lost on him.
September
Talon stared at Riley's latest message for a full five minutes, reading it over and over until the words were burned into his memory.
Riley: Random confession: I look forward to your texts more than anything else in my day.
Random confession. Nothing random about it. She looked forward to his texts more than anything else. More than therapy victories, more than progress milestones, more than all the other good things happening as she moved on from recovery to stepping back into her life.
Talon: That's not random. And I feel the same way.
Understatement of the century. Her texts weren't just the highlight of his day. No, they were what got him through the difficult missions, the lonely hotel rooms, and the moments when his job felt too dark or the world felt too broken.
Riley: What does that mean for us?
The question he'd been avoiding for months. The conversation they needed to have, but he'd been too hesitant to start. What did it mean? It meant he was in love with her. It meant he wanted to build a life with her. It meant he was terrified of moving too fast and losing what they already had. And though he’d never kissed her or held her, he couldn’t imagine anything he wanted more.
Talon: I'd like to find out.
It was the closest he could come to admitting that he wanted everything with her, Not just the late-night conversations and shared observations, but real time together, physical presence, a chance to see if what they'd built through screens and distance could translate to something real and lasting.
Riley: Me, too. I’m ready to start living my life—for me.
Words that changed everything. She wanted to find out, too. Wanted to explore whatever this was between them.
Talon: When I get a chance, can I take you to dinner? It might just be somewhere with terrible airport coffee and good company.
His heart pounded as he typed it. Dinner. A real date, not just texted observations and philosophical discussions. A chance to see her smile in person, to hear her laugh, to discover all the small details that couldn't be conveyed through messages.
Riley: I'd like that very much. You might get the chance quicker than you think. I’m coming back to the Sahel region.
Talon blinked at the text. It took a moment for the meaning to cut through his disbelief.
Talon: Why?
Riley: My job for one, you for another, but the most important reason is I won’t let them win. I won’t let them force me into a life of fear.