Chapter Two
Cole
I need to talk to you. Can you come over?
I send the text to Bella, and I ’ m not surprised when she fires back a reply almost immediately. Since that horrible day a couple of weeks ago, she ’ s been very attentive and timely in returning my texts and phone calls.
I know she ’ s worried about me and I appreciate her concern.
I ’ ve got something on my mind, and I need to talk to her about it before I can move forward.
She tends to be a worrier and I can see that in her text response. I ’ ll be right there. Is it bad?
Of course, she wants to know what’s on my mind, which is a little annoying. If I wanted to have the conversation through text, I would have said what was on my mind in the first place. I can, however, appreciate her nerves, all things considered, so I assure her that things are okay; I just want to talk.
Okay, I ’ m just leaving work, so I ’ ll be there in half an hour if that ’ s fine with you.
I send her a thumbs-up emoji, then put my phone aside to tidy up a bit before she gets here. I ’ m usually the neater housekeeper of the two of us, and even though we’ve been together for a few years, I still like to have my place in order for her. It’s probably the military thing my dad emphasized and instilled in us since we were kids. A smart move on his part — and lucky for my mom — since my brothers and I could do a lot of damage if left to our own devices.
Dad referred to being a slob as “slovenly” and would not tolerate it. He ran a tight ship, for sure.
It ’ s something Bella has teased me about for when we live together in the future.
“ You ’ re such a clean freak, and I ’ m so not,” she ’ d said. “ Are you going to wander around the house picking things up behind me?”
“ Nah, we ’ ll hire a housekeeper,” I’d told her.
She laughed. “ Oh, is that so? Dreaming big, huh?”
“ Maybe not,” I told her. “ We might get lucky with some high-paying jobs.”
“ Probably not for me unless I continue on and get my doctorate.”
“ Then I guess I ’ m just going to have to be your sugar daddy while you work on your doctorate. And then you can be my sugar momma when you ’ re making the big bucks.”
She ’ d laughed at me, which was always music to my ears. I adored everything about the girl; messy or not, I couldn ’ t wait to make her my wife.
But, as I clean the house and get ready for her to come over, my mind wanders. My heart has always hurt for Bella ’ s loss, but I didn ’ t know what that truly felt like as I do now after my life took this turn.
Now, I ’ m starting to think about everything in my life a lot differently than I did before. It ’ s as though losing my father opened something in me that I can ’ t close.
A Pandora ’ s box of sorts.
I ’ ve never taken life for granted.
Ever since I can remember, I ’ ve been the sort of guy to take life by the horns, living to the fullest. I ’ m the guy who is the first to jump and the last to run, and I ’ m proud of it.
Dad joined the military long before he met Mom, and while the two of them were akin to peas and carrots, he dedicated his life to service to our country. His love for freedom was evident. Mom knew that about him and accepted it, often saying it was “in his blood.”
He was the bravest man I knew, and I wanted to be just like him ever since I was a kid. That never changed as I became a man.
I’d wanted to make him proud by going to school and getting a degree. As an undergraduate student in criminal justice, I was strongly considering going on to law school.
I ’ ve been working for the past few years to make the right choices that will take me to where I want to be in life.
And I got engaged to the most amazing woman I ’ ve ever met.
Until that morning, two weeks ago today, I was on top of my game.
Dad was so happy for me when he heard I ’ d asked Bella to marry me. The two of them only met a handful of times, considering the amount of time he had been deployed since I was fifteen. But he made it clear that he liked and approved of her. Knowing how much I love her, he naturally also extended that love to her.
While we hadn ’ t set a wedding date yet, I ’ d kept his service dates in mind. Bella and I agreed that we would choose a date when he would be home and able to participate. I wanted him there.
And now, he never will be, and I feel cheated.
My mother and older brother, Mason, were home that day when they received the visit that no military family ever wants: a uniformed officer delivered the news in person. I wish I’d been there to help my brother support Mom.
“ They ’ re calling it the deadliest day for Special Forces in Afghanistan,” Mason explained to me. “ Dad was in a Chinook when the chopper was hit with a rocket-propelled grenade launched by the Taliban. Everyone on board – including Dad – died."
I learned that thirty-eight people had been killed, and close to half of them were SEALs.
I got the phone call from my brother early in the morning, asking me to come over to Mom ’ s to talk. The tone of his voice told me something was wrong and that I should not ask too many questions before I got there. I knew as soon as I walked through the door and found my mother and younger brother, Charlie, in tears.
Dad was gone.
He wasn ’ t coming home.
Not really, anyway.
The three of us knew we had to be strong for Mom. It ’ s what Dad would have expected from us. We helped her work out the details regarding the dignified transfer ceremony and planned a private service shortly thereafter.
It all feels surreal to me. One moment, I ’ m numb, and the next, I ’ m wrecked.
It ’ s not like the concept of my dad being killed in action has ever been lost on me. I knew he was a SEAL and that he would be in dangerous situations. Considering what was happening in Afghanistan, we all knew his last deployment was especially dangerous.
But knowing such things in my mind and having to live through the reality of losing him are two very different things. All in all, I can ’ t say I ’ m coping very well.
I ’ m thankful for Bella; I can ’ t express that enough.
It was rough for a few days after hearing the news, and I still feel like there ’ s some tension between us, but I ’ m chalking that up to the fact that I ’ m not myself right now. Being my usual self around her is hard when I ’ m putting so much effort into being strong for my family.
I appreciate that she ’ s trying to cut me slack and also be supportive, but I know it ’ s also hard for her.
The day after I told her what happened, she called me first thing in the morning.
“ Are you home?” she asked.
“ Yeah.”
“ Can I come over?”
“ Yeah.”
She did and promptly burst into tears as soon as she walked through my apartment door.
“ I ’ m so sorry, Cole,” she said repeatedly. “ I know how terrible it hurts. I really do.”
“ I know, baby, I know,” I told her, holding her close as I ran my fingers through her long, blonde hair.
And I really did know. She lost her father much the same way I lost mine. Her father was a cop, and mine was a soldier. Her father was shot while a grenade hit mine. But at the end of the day, we had both lost our fathers to terrible things.
And we were both left devastated and picking up the pieces.
“ I ’ m also sorry about last night,” she sniffed.
“ What do you mean?”
“ I should have been here,” she told me. “ I knew in my gut there had to be something wrong when you didn ’ t come to the meet, but I still went out and had fun with my friends. I hate that I was in a position where I couldn ’ t come to you as soon as I heard.”
“ Bella, ” I told her. “ You can ’ t blame yourself for that. You had no idea, and I ’ m glad you didn ’ t wait around trying to figure out what was happening. It was only natural that you went out with your friends. I know the drill, so I knew you’d likely gone out with the group.”
“I just hate that I wasn ’ t here for you,” she said. “ We ’ re partners. We should be there for each other, and I wasn ’ t. I ’ m sorry.”
I gave up trying to reassure her it was okay. I didn ’ t blame her in the least for going out with friends. She hadn ’ t done anything wrong. The only reason I didn ’ t ask her to come over at the time was out of respect for my mother and brothers. They – we all – needed the space and privacy to mourn. And I think she understood that.
“ Everything between you and me is fine,” I assured her. I know you ’ re here for me now, so try to let it go.”
She did at the time, but even now, two weeks later, I ’ m not entirely sure that she has. For as much as she has been there and trying to be supportive, there ’ s something almost guarded about her that I can ’ t quite put my finger on.
Then, when she and I went to dinner with my brother Mason a few days ago, I could tell the conversation around the dinner table didn ’ t sit well with her.
“ I ’ m enlisting,” Mason announced.
“ What?”
“ Are you serious?”
Bella and I both spoke at the same time. The idea of my brother enlisting made me immediately tense up. I had just lost Dad. He had just lost Dad. The thought of losing him, too, was almost too much to bear.
But then, he started talking.
And the more he said, the more things made sense. Even things I didn ’ t want to believe made sense, and it was as though I could hear Dad himself saying them to me.
The conversation had moved on to different topics throughout the meal, and by the time we parted ways, I ’ d almost forgotten about it. But after dropping Bella off back at her place and coming home to my own, my mind kept returning to some of my brother's points.
And now, several days later, I need to talk to Bella.
I throw the last pillow against the back of the couch when I hear her knocking on the door. Although she has a key to my place and is welcome to come in at any time, we both still knock whenever we visit each other.
I open the door and she wraps me up in her arms. It ’ s such a safe, welcoming feeling. I almost want to dismiss what ’ s been on my mind and tell her that I just wanted to see her. But I know if I do that, I ’ m going against what I know in my heart is right, and it would just be delaying the inevitable.
“ What ’ s going on?” she asks after kissing me. “ Are you okay?”
“ Yeah, for the most part.”
“ That doesn ’ t sound good.”
I smile. “ Want something to drink?”
“ What have you got?”
“ You name it.”
“ Surprise me. ”
I give her a La Croix. I don’t like the drinks myself, but I like keeping her favorite flavor stocked up in my fridge for when she ’ s over. I opt for a soda myself and crack it open.
“ How was work?” I ask.
“ Surprisingly stressful.”
“ Since when is it surprising that being a lifeguard is stressful?” I tease. “ Besides the obvious, that you’re responsible for a lot of lives, you ’ re dealing with knuckleheads who think because they ’ re having fun, they ’ re immune to danger. And being a beautiful lifeguard makes you low-hanging fruit for the Baywatch Syndrome.”
She laughs and looks confused, “ Baywatch Syndrome?!”
“ Means you ’ re like the Baywatch babe that all the frustrated teenage boys want to get attention from but don ’ t know how to go about it, so they act like idiots.”
“ Ahh, I get it now,” she blushes because she has no idea how beautiful she is. “ I guess today ranked around an eight on the Baywatch scale. Extremely annoying.”
“ Well, when I was that age, I was never lucky enough to drool over a hot lifeguard like you, so I guess it saved me from making a fool of myself,” I chuckle. “ And look at me now… I got the girl… my own Baywatch babe!”
She blushes again and I lean in for a kiss because, well, I want to kiss her, but also probably because I ’ m stalling.
I know she ’ s waiting for me to take the lead with what I wanted to discuss. I don ’ t want to drag it out any longer than it needs to be, especially since I ’ m pretty sure I know she ’ s not going to be thrilled with what I ’ ve got to say. But, with her sitting on the couch next to me, I ’ m suddenly at a loss for words. I want to tell her what ’ s on my mind, but every time I start to form the sentence in my mind, I can ’ t bring myself to say it.
She finally breaks the kiss and prompts me. “ So, you wanted to talk.”
“ Yeah,” I say. “ Not sure how to put it into words.”
“ Are you breaking up with me?” She looks panicked.
“ What?” I say and shake my head. “ No! Baby, no, it ’ s nothing like that.”
The relief visibly washes over her face.
“ Well, after all you ’ ve been going through, I don ’ t know where your head is. I, I don ’ t know, Cole, I ’ m scared. I want everything to be okay, but I know how hard it is to be where you are.”
“ And I love how much you ’ ve been here to support me,” I tell her as I wrap her in my arms and pull her close. “ I ’ m not breaking up with you, baby. I just need to talk to you about a big decision I ’ ve made. ”
“ Okay,” she says, letting out a shaky sigh. “ I guess since I was bracing myself for something like a breakup, whatever you say now isn ’ t going to be nearly as bad.”
“ Alright then,” I say.
She looks at me with her bright blue eyes.
“ I ’ m dropping out of school.”
“ Cole! ” she gasps. “ Are you insane? What about your future? Our future? ”
I ’ m not surprised by the initial reaction, but I put my hand up to stop her from going on one of her rants.
“ I have my future – our future – still very much in mind. I just don ’ t believe that I ’ m going to finish my degree. At least, not at this point.”
“ Okay,” she says slowly. “ Then you must have something else in mind that you want to do ? ”
“ Yes. ”
She gives me another one of her looks, and though I only hold her gaze for a moment, I can clearly read what she wants from me. I know by her expression that she must be piecing together in her head where this conversation is going, and I can tell by how her body is tensing that she ’ s preparing for the words I know she doesn ’ t want to hear.
I ’ ve decided on this already, and I’m in too deep to back out. I ’ ve told her that I ’ m doing this for both of us, and I mean it. I don ’ t want to break up. I absolutely want us to stay together, but I know that this is a decision that is going to impact both of us immensely.
“ You might as well just say it at this point,” she prompts, and I sigh.
“ I ’ m enlisting,” I tell her.
“ Cole! ” she argues. “ You can ’ t! Not after what happened! Is Mason telling you to do this? You have to tell him –”
“ Bella, ” I cut her off. She stops talking momentarily and gives me her attention, and I know it ’ s time.
“ I guess I should say it differently,” I tell her. “ I signed the paperwork this morning. I ’ m a soldier now.”