Page 147 of Better Late Than Never

She and Paul laughed. Beside me, Connor rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he was smiling.

We sat beside Paul and Aimee during the ceremony. That didn’t surprise me; Connor and Aimee had been working hard to keep things friendly, especially while their son was planning his wedding. While they weren’t BFFs, they got along like two people who met up at their class reunion after a decade or two—they talked comfortably, and after this was over, they’d go back to living their separate lives until there was a reason to cross paths again.

Whatdidsurprise me was after the ceremony when Quinn and Savannah wanted Paul and me in some of the family pictures. Of course they did several with just Quinn’s parents, and Aimee and Connor were amicable enough that it didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable for anyone. I just hadn’t expected the couple to ask his parents’ respective boyfriends to join in. They even took a few with just Connor and me, and just Aimee and Paul.

The ceremony and photos were a blur of activity, but then we were finally settling in for dinner. Even the bride and groom seemed happy to have a reprieve; I was overwhelmed by everything, so they must’ve been worn ragged by now.

As we ate dinner at the reception, I stole the opportunity to just enjoy being near Connor. We didn’t get to see each other often these days. Not in person, anyway. I’d long since retired, which had taken a ton of pressure off us. Now if we got caught together—oh fucking well.

The complicated part was that when my active duty ended, so did my assignment to Rota. Shortly after my retirement, I’d moved back to the States.

We’d known that was coming, and we’d been ready for it. We both had plenty of experience living apart from loved ones for months at a time, but I couldn’t lie—it was hard. Turned out living on different continents was orders of magnitude harder than sneaking around in the same town. I jumped on military flights as often as I could. Connor took leave back to the States as often as he could. Still, we could only see each other once in a while. We went weeks or even months at a stretch with only FaceTime for company.

Every chance we had, though, we were in the same place. His command knew about us now. Captain Tucker had apparently side-eyed him after she’d run into us during one of my visits, and she’d asked how long this had been going on. He’d blandly answered that it hadn’t started until after I was out of the Navy. We’d finally been able to be friends, we’d stayed in contact after I’d left, and one thing had led to another.

Connor had laughed when he’d told me about her skeptical expression. She probably knew, but there was no proof we’d fraternized before I was discharged, so there was nothing she could do. So far, it hadn’t had any noticeable effect on his evaluations, and she hadn’t said anything further. Likely because by that point, she’d been starting her own retirement process, so her give-a-damn had probably already bailed. Assuming she’d had any left after dealing with the clusterfuck that was getting rid of Tobias.

With Isidoro’s statement alongside mine, not to mention several other American and Spanish guys who’d made statements, Tobias’s career as a civilian contractor wasover. Last I heard, he’d moved back to California and was living with family, relying solely on his Navy pension because no one would hire him. Rumor had it he’d also been banned for life from ever setting foot in Spain again. Possibly even the EU. I wasn’t sure if that was true or just wild scuttlebutt, but it was satisfying, so I chose to believe it.

Now Tobias was out of the picture. I was out of the Navy. Connor and I were out of the closet. The Navy couldn’t touch us.

Unfortunately, more often than not,wecouldn’t touch us either because of that stupid ocean between Europe and North America.

There were times when I was still sure Connor would get tired of it; the exhausting secrecy had given way to frustrating distance, and how long was he going to put up with that just so he could be with me?

The whole situation was further complicated by him making commander. He wasn’t required to stay on active duty, but after a promotion, it was generally expected that he’d put in another three years at his new rank. At this point, he might as well try for captain, and if he made captain, stay in and retire at thirty years for the higher pension.

The Navy wasn’t going to be out of the picture any time soon.

Every time I saw him or even talked to him online, there was a knot of worry tucked in the back of my mind. Would this be the trip where he finally decided he’d had enough? Was he coming to see me so he could tell me in person that we were done? Was he planning to have me stay with him for a couple of weeks, and then tell me at the airport that this would be the last time? WouldthisFaceTime call be the one where he shook his head and explained that it was just too much? As the months went on, I thought that would get better, but it had only gotten worse. He said he loved me and this was worthwhile. He was only human, though. Sooner or later…

So just do it yourself and stop stressing over it.

I’d always dismissed that thought as soon as it came. Maybe it made me a masochist, but I wanted to enjoy this ride all the way to the end, even if I did worry the whole way.

That worry was present and accounted for tonight, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t dump me at his son’s wedding. So, I was just going to enjoy the wedding. Enjoy my boyfriend’s company. Watch him smile with all that love and pride as he watched his son getting married.

This didn’t have to be forever. Right now, it was perfect.

He introduced you to his parents, idiot.

And his ex-wife.

At his son’s wedding.

Maybe he doesn’t really have one foot out the door?

There was that. And maybe eventually I’d stop worrying so much. But even after he’d made it clear what lengths he was willing to go just to be with me, it was hard to let go of that lifelong certainty that I wasn’t someone people prioritized.

“He could have anyone he wants,” I’d said during a recent televisit with my therapist. “It’s just hard to imagine someone like him jumping through all these hoops for…” I’d gestured at myself.

“I think the issue here is less about Connor,” she’d replied, “and more about your self-esteem and self-worth. People in your life have convinced you you’re not worth the effort. The difficult part is learning to listen to people who say youareworth it.” With a confident smile, she’d added, “That’s something we can work on.”

We had, too, and we’d made a lot of progress. But what could I say? Old habits died hard, especially when it came to being with this amazing man. The worry thatthiswould be the visit orthatwould be the call where he’d finally drop the hammer was intense, but it was getting better. I suspected that was the result of therapy as well as Connor still showing up, time after time, as if he really did think I was worth it.

Maybe to him, I was.

I took his hand under the table, and he glanced at me. He’d already been smiling, listening to Savannah’s maid of honor giving a speech, but the expression turned to one of affection and fondness that I swore was just for me. I returned it, and we both shifted our focus back to the woman with the microphone.

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