Page 3 of SEAL'S Secret Vows

“It's okay. You did the right thing.”

“Are you sure? The look on everyone's faces… they must have thought I was crazy running out like that. I didn't want anyone to stop me. And Ethan.”

“Stop it. That's the problem. You think of everyone except yourself.”

I blink back the tears, sniffing repeatedly.

“What made you finally realize you couldn't do it?”

“Our dreams are different, and he... he...”

“He what? Nora?” he probes gently.

I glance at him, suddenly nervous.

This isn’t something I’ve shared with anyone yet. For some reason, though Iknowit’s Ethan’s problem and not mine, it fills me with embarrassment.

Chase’s eyes are on the road, his jaw locked. He looks hardened—I know, even if he tries to hide it with sharp leadership and gruff tones, he cares a lot about all of us under his call in the navy. I bite the inside of my cheek, considering lying, but then he shoots me a hard look, as if he can tell.

I give in.

“No. I... He doesn't support any of my dreams.” I admit.

“And?” Chase says, knowing there is more.

I sigh, picking at the lace on my dress. “He’s always thinking of his own aspirations, and expects me to put them first, too… It chokes me.”

“Yeah. Hold on to that reason, and don't let anything hold you back.” He says firmly.

“You're right. I should. I need some time to myself. To think, to clear my head.”

“It's okay. Let me get you home.”

“No!” I grab his arm. “I can't go back to my place. He could be there! Or mymother.Please.”

His gaze locks with mine, and he nods again. “My place it is, then. There's a flask in the glove box.” He ignites the engine and pulls out of the alley. “Might lighten you up.” He says and winks.

I grab the flask and take a long drag of the sweet, burning liquor. And this time, the tears come rolling down.Stop crying, Nora. At least not in front of Chase.

“Has he contacted you yet?” he asks.

“He tried. I didn’t pick up his calls. We… texted.” I take another gulp then continue. “I couldn’t bring myself to speak to him. Not now. Not yet.”

“What about your parents?”

“My mom’s been calling me. I ignored her calls as well. My dad must have figured since I didn’t answer Mom, I wouldn’t answer his calls either.”

As we drive away from the chaos of my abandoned wedding, Chase's presence is calming. He doesn't press for more details, allowing me the space to gather my thoughts. It's one of the things I appreciate most about him; the way he knows when to give me space and when to step in.

As I sip the rum, my mind drifts back to a conversation I had with Ethan.

It was a few weeks ago, during one of our rare moments alone amidst the whirlwind of wedding preparations. We were sitting in his lavish office, surrounded by shelves filled with books on politics and history. Those are both his passion and expertise.

Ethan had been approached to run for office. When he told me about it, he’d been so excited.For both of us,he’d said.

A decade ago, I’d wanted to be in politics. Now, I knew that my passion lay with the Seals. I didn’t want to wear a suit and argue for a better world—I wanted to make one with my own hands.

I’d said as much. And then I realized that I’d misunderstood Ethan—he hadn’t been excited for me to run for office, too. He’d been excited for me to beby his sidewhileheran.

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