Chapter 20
Nate
Holding my wife in my arms is the best damn thing in this world.
The weight of her body pressed against mine, the warmth of her skin, the steady rhythm of her breath—this is what peace feels like. This is home.
And I know I’m going to miss this with every fiber of my soul.
But I also know that when I come back—when this deployment is over—she’ll be here. Waiting for me. Loving me. Just like she always has.
I close my eyes, imagining her swollen with our child, laughing as little feet run around our house. I want that. I crave that. A whole army of messy, loud, beautiful kids that all look like her. A home full of love and chaos and second chances. Ours.
Beneath my fingertips, I feel her drawing lazy circles over my chest. But something in her touch feels... distant. Lost.
I press a kiss to her forehead. “What are you thinking about?” I murmur against her skin.
She blinks, like she’s been caught somewhere far away. Then she sighs, long and quiet. “Can I be honest?”
I wrap a lock of her hair around my finger, rolling it slowly, not rushing her. “Always, love.”
Her voice is so soft it nearly breaks me. “I'm not ready for tomorrow… I’ll miss you like crazy.”
God. That ache, sharp and cruel, lodges right under my ribs.
“Me either,” I whisper, pulling her closer like I can shield her from the ticking clock that’s about to steal me away. “I’ll miss you too, baby. But the time will fly by, I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She tilts her head, locking those big, searching eyes on me. I know that look. “Be careful, wherever you go. Stay safe. Text me when you can, even if it’s just an email saying you’re okay.”
I stroke her cheek with the back of my knuckles, memorizing the shape of her. “I will, baby. But listen… if you don’t hear from me for a few days or even weeks, don’t panic, okay? Sometimes we can’t carry our devices with us. It’s just protocol.”
Her gaze flicks away, and she tightens her arms around my chest like she can hold me in place, keep me from leaving.
“I’ll always worry, Nate. From the second you walk out that door until the moment you come back.”
“Love…” I pull her up, sitting on the edge of the bed with her between my legs. I need her to understand. I need her to hear me.
“There are rules we follow on base. Procedures. If anything ever happens to me… someone will come to tell you.”
Her whole body tenses. Then she breaks. “I can’t lose you,” she sobs, her face crumbling as tears stream down her cheeks.
Fuck.
My heart shatters. Just shatters.
I cup her face and wipe her tears away, one by one, even as more fall.
“Shh, baby. It won’t happen. I’ll be fine.
You’re my guardian angel, remember?” I lean forward, brushing my nose against hers, desperate to bring her comfort.
“But if, for any reason, I can’t reach you—someone will.
You won’t be left wondering. It’s just how my world works. ”
She nods slowly, like it’s the only thing she can do. Then she clings to me, burying her face in my chest.
“I’ll miss you,” she whispers.
“You too, baby. Every damn day.” I press a kiss to her hair. “Keep your phone close, okay? I might be able to call you sometimes.”
“Okay,” she murmurs against my skin.
“I promise…” I swallow hard, my voice thick with emotion, “when I get back, we’ll finally have that honeymoon I planned. Somewhere just for us. Just you and me.”
She looks up at me, eyes still wet, but glowing. “I don’t need a honeymoon. Just you coming back safe—that’s enough for me. You’re all I need, Nate.”
God, I don’t deserve her. But I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that I do.
I hold her tighter, like I can burn this moment into my soul. Her scent, her warmth, her love—it’s all I’ll carry with me when I go.
But then my eyes catch the clock on the nightstand, and my stomach turns.
Two hours. That’s all we’ve got left.
I bury my face in her neck, kissing her soft skin. “Let’s try to rest, sweetheart.”
She shifts slightly, her hand smoothing down my chest. “All right,” she whispers, reaching for the sheet and pulling it over us like it can protect us from the world.
I close my eyes and hold her closer, praying to feel her heart beating against mine for just a little longer.
Because no matter where I go—no matter what danger waits—I’ll always carry her with me.
My wife.
My forever.
My home.
* * *
The room is bathed in the soft, golden haze of early dawn when I open my eyes.
I don’t move.
She’s still asleep in my arms, her head resting on my chest, our legs tangled together. Her breathing is slow and even, her face peaceful—but I know the moment she wakes, that calm will crack.
I wish I could freeze time. Just press pause on this moment and stay here.
But reality doesn’t give a damn about wishes.
I press a kiss to her temple, lingering there for a beat longer than I should. Then I gently shift, trying not to wake her as I slip out of bed. But she stirs anyway, instinctively reaching for me.
“Nate…?” she murmurs, her voice hoarse with sleep and emotion.
“Shh,” I whisper, brushing my hand over her hair. “Go back to sleep.”
“Where are you going?”
“To have a shower.”
She sits up slowly, rubbing her eyes. I move toward the bathroom as she follows suit. Turning the faucet on mid temperature, I cock a brow at her and she shrugs. “Can I join?” she takes off her nightgown before I can register her question.
The hot water steams up the glass almost instantly, fogging the mirror, but I don’t care. I step into the shower and pull her in with me, her body slipping easily into mine like she belongs here.
Because she does.
Water cascades down our skin, and I press her back against the cool tile, kissing her like I’m imprinting the memory on my soul. She kisses me back with desperation, her hands roaming my chest, clutching at me like she’s afraid I’ll be gone.
We don’t speak.
Words would ruin it.
It’s just hands and mouths and sighs. A dance of heat and water and love. A goodbye that tastes like a promise.
When I make love to her, it’s not hurried—it’s reverent. Deep. Intimate. Her name is a whispered prayer on my lips, and when we fall apart in each other’s arms, it’s not just from pleasure—it’s from the ache of knowing this is the last time for a while.
Afterward, I hold her in the shower, water running cold before either of us even notices.
I dry her off gently, like she’s something fragile. She insists on helping me get dressed, her fingers trembling as she buttons up my shirt. After she puts on her leggings and an oversized shirt, we make our way downstairs.
The knock on the door comes too soon.
I glance toward it, jaw tight.
Another knock. Then a familiar voice yells through the door.
“Yo, soldier boy! If we’re late, I’m blaming your sex life!”
Isabel stifles a laugh against my shoulder. “CJ,” she whispers.
“Yep,” I mutter, grabbing my duffel.
“Don’t even think about sneaking out without giving me a goodbye hug!” Alex shouts next. “And tell your woman to stop crying—we’ll bring you back in one piece!”
I turn to her, cupping her face in my hands. “Hey. You hear that? You’ve got the whole squad looking out for me.”
She nods, eyes glassy. “I know… I just hate this part.”
“I do too, baby.” I lean down, kissing her slow and deep. “But I’ll be back. And when I am, I want that little white house and a backyard full of barefoot kids, okay?”
She laughs softly through her tears. “Okay.”
I pull her into one last hug, burying my face in her neck. “Love you, baby.”
“Take care.”
Another knock—this time accompanied by CJ dramatically coughing. “Wrap it up, lovebirds. We’re not missing the goddamn transport again!”
I laugh against her skin, then press one last kiss to her lips and step back, letting her go before I lose my nerve.
I swing open the front door.
CJ stands there, arms crossed, grinning. “Well, well, you look freshly laid.”
Alex, behind him, gives me a mock salute. “It’s the glow. He’s practically sparkling.”
“Like a damn vampire,” CJ mutters.
I roll my eyes and adjust my pack. “You two are lucky I like you.”
CJ nudges Isabel gently. “Don’t worry, he’s in good hands. I’ve only gotten him shot twice.”
“Once,” Alex corrects. “The second one was technically a ricochet.”
Isabel just shakes her head, arms crossed, trying to smile.
I kiss her one more time, quick and hard, before jogging down the steps and climbing into the waiting vehicle.
As we pull away, I look back.
She’s still on the porch, arms wrapped around herself, watching me leave with tears in her eyes but strength in her spine.
My heart stays right there with her.
And no matter where I go, no matter what happens—I'll fight like hell to make it back to her.
Because she's my whole world.