Page 109 of Fight Or Flight

I have one fucking epiphany and I’m ready to get down on one knee and shop for strollers.

Fall in love, they said.

It’ll be fun, they said.

They failed to mention a few things…

* * *

Okay,so you know what I didn’t factor in? How fucking nervous I’d be when I picked up the phone to call Brooklyn. As soon as the phone started to ring, my stomach rolled and in case you were wondering, MRE meals and a case of nerves don’t bode well. I was going to shit my pants or at the very least blow up the bathroom. Talk about chemical warfare—my platoon was fucked.

All my worries about blowing Fort Benning to kingdom come died the second her voice filled my ears.

“Hi,” she murmured softly.

I froze. The clock was ticking on my phone privileges and I couldn’t speak. I closed my eyes and when she called my name, I blinked away the tears that blurred my vision.

“I’m sorry,” I rasped.

“I know,” she whispers.

“No, Brooklyn, you don’t understand. I was in an awful place mentally and the guys—”

“Eric, I know,” she repeated. “I’m not going to lie to you, I was devastated that you thought I’d ever do something like that to you, but I knew in my heart you were going through something. Tell me it’s better now, that you’re not suffering over there because I’ve been trying to keep my shit together, but I’m losing it. Please tell me you’re okay. That your still mine.”

“Always,” I choke. “That will never change.”

Near or far, together forever.

Until the day someone lowers me into the cold earth, and even then, I’ll find a way to be with her—just like her dad did.

“The flowers were a nice touch.”

“I’ll send you flowers every day for the rest of my life if it makes you smile, but I never want to send them because I hurt you again.”

“Did you get my letters?”

“Every single one. I didn’t read them all, though. They’ve become my reward system, for every day I make it through, I get to read one of your letters. I wrote you back too. I don’t know when you’ll get them, but they’re in the mail.”

“I can’t wait to read them.” There is a pause and then she says, “I miss you.”

Oh, my pretty little hurricane, if only you knew how much I missed you.

“Not more than I miss you,” I reply huskily.

“It’s debatable.”

“How’s Splish and Splash?”

“They’re still alive.”

That makes me laugh, and I quickly realize I can’t recall the last time I did that. How sad is that?

“I love you,” I blurt. “I love you so fucking much, and I can’t wait until this is all over because the first thing I’m doing is marrying you.”

“What?” she breathes.

Crap.

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