Page 133 of Mariposa
“She loved you both. Grandma loved you and him; you were not a second choice. I think it’s possible to experience more than one love in your lifetime.”
He shakes his head.
“All those letters you guys read together, she didn’t get most of them when he was still alive because of me.”
His freckled hand shakily reaches the inside of his black coat and slowly takes out a stack of letters. My eyes widen when I see they’re all from Graham. He slowly gives them to me.
“Take care of these for her.”
I hold them close to my chest as my grandpa continues to sulk. I can’t imagine being married to someone for over sixty years, knowing she never got over her first love. Grandpa loved my grandma so much that he didn’t care; he married her knowing her heart was tethered to another. As long as he had her, that was enough for him.
I trace Graham’s handwriting as I ponder whether he knew my grandmother loved him. She sent him a letter to break things off after everyone back home convinced her he didn’t want her, but I wonder if he could see through that moment of uncertainty.
My grandfather continues to cry silently. We sit next to each other and grieve my grandmother. Before we leave, we sing her favorite songs and discuss our favorite things about her. All the fun stories and recipes I’ll always get wrong because no matter how many times I try to cook them the way she taught me, the food never comes out quite like hers.
Hooking my arm with his, we leave her resting place together.
Wiping away the grief-fueled tears from my sore eyes, a flock of Monarch butterflies flies past my face. My breath catches in my throat as I watch them travel so effortlessly, free and beautiful. I’m enchanted. A sense of closure hits me when I see two land on my grandmother’s tombstone. The butterflies spread their bright orange and black wings slowly, and my chest swells.
This is a sign from her.
I know it is.
She’s in heaven, dancing with Graham on a beach somewhere.
Smiling, my heart twists into my swelling chest. I take solace knowing my grandmother passed away at home, thinking her soldier made it back home to her.
Kade
It’s extremely rare,but it happens.
I was presumed dead by the United States, given Violet’s story and the evidence at the scene. But really, I had been captured on that mountain. When I got shot in the chest, my armor plate stopped it from fatally wounding me. The explosion gave me severe third-degree burns on my chest, back, and arms, but somehow, I lived.
Burned, beaten, shot, and tortured.
I found a way out of my captor’s grasp while being transported to an unknown location. I killed three threats with my bare hands when they tried to torture me for information. I escaped that day, jumping out of the running vehicle they had me in. I traveled and navigated for weeks, barely surviving, until I found help at a hospital.
From there, I was rescued by a group of Army Rangers and brought back home. I told Slater to keep this under wraps so I could tell my future wife that I was back in person.
I reunited with Adam after Greenville. We’re on speaking terms, but I don’t push him for more. He knows about Violet and me, which wasn’t the most comfortable conversation to have, but it needed to be done. At first, he was angry and closed off, but as the months passed, he’s come around slowly.
After a long deployment in Latvia, my plane lands in North Carolina. I let out a relieved breath as the pilot lands our commercial plane, the gentlest landing I’ve ever experienced. I look out the window as we slow down. We glide by other parked planes. I can see the tree-covered hills that surround the airport.
As for The Surgeon, he’s still on everyone’s list. There are theories that this mission will be passed off to Grim Reaper and his team. Danny Rider and I trained alongside each other for years, even though he chose the SEALS, and I chose Special Forces. I trained him because his father, Damian Rider, asked me to. No one tells Damian no, but I didn’t mind the request because Danny and I are close; I consider him like a baby brother. Our careers have driven us apart over the years, but we will always remain friends.
This was my last mission, and I don’t feel an ounce of regret. I thought I would feel something when I packed up my gear for the last time, or when I said goodbye to my team—dread, anger, guilt…but nothing but a ray of sunshine warms my heart when I think of the next chapter in my life. The wheels continue to turn and head towards our gate. I swipe off airplane mode, and my phone floods with text messages. My brothers and sisters, my son, Penny…and my beautiful wife. A smile curves onto my face.
Violet O’Connell.
I love how that sounds.
I haven’t seen her in seven months. She got honorably discharged from the army. She’s back in school chasing a degree in English. Every time I think about her, I feel at home.
I regretted everything I said when I tried to end things with her before the helicopter crash. I regret listening to Karen’s lies. At the time, I felt the weight of my team heavily on my shoulders, the mission…and my proscriptive relationship was something I chose to push away and not worry about.
When only the three of us survived after that crash, I realized how little this woman asked of me. She didn’t want to marry or have children; she just wanted me. I was enough for her.
As soon as the seat belt sign is turned off, I stand calmly and patiently. I let everyone off the plane first until I’m the lastpassenger. I’m at the exit when I see most of the flight crew waiting for me in front of the pilot’s cabin.
