Page 24 of The Biggest Sacrifice

Apologize.

Let go.

Breathe freely.

I had to apologize to myself for carrying JT’s death for too long. I had to let go for him, his family and myself. And I had to breathe freely and give myself and Farrah a chance.

Meeting JT’s family that day replays in my mind often. I try to pull those memories and go to them when I’m missing him. I remember their kind words even if I can’t fully accept them. I pull out a few of the letters they let me take with me so I can read his words over and over until one day, hopefully, it will sink in.

Then I push those thoughts away and go a different route. What if it was me that night? I’d never get to hold her and touch her. Promise her forever like I always planned to, but never thought I was worthy of.

From that night on, everything changed inside me. I became hard. I became lifeless. It wasn’t until I returned home that some of that light started to return. My family sensed I was different, and they tried hard to take my distance and fill it with their love. But the feeling of wanting to be anywhere but home was always in the back of my mind. I needed to keep moving and remain occupied. The need to serve and protect was even stronger after I lost him.

I had to learn to shut that part of my life far away but still never forget it. Becoming a cop on the local PD force helped. It filled my need to shield others, but the guilt remained a powerful presence. The shame that I was here, living my life, loving my life, having people who loved me back, and needed me, while JT was just… gone. It’s a lot to face. So an arm’s length relationship is the best I can do with all of them, whether they realize that’s what I’m doing or not. It’s my own self preservation.

You can’t have light without first having darkness, and you can’t live in coldness. That darkness sent me into her arms. I was afraid to show her my true self, but I also knew, without a doubt, she was the only one who would understand. But admitting another man was dead because of my negligence, why would she want me after knowing that?

And what if I couldn’t protect her? What if I loved her as much as I loved my team and I still failed her? What if the guilt and anger I carry with me every day never broke down enough to allow her to fully accept me, and she ended up leaving me as well?

I scrub my face, trying to come out of that time period, bringing me back to the present and giving myself clarity. Clarity on what matters most. I asked myself the question ‘What are you doing Tom’ over and over? Get it together already.

Where do you see yourself in two years? Five? Ten?

Farrah is the answer EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

So on what would end up being my last tour, I took out a pen and paper and wrote a letter. I poured everything I had onto that sheet, making sure she knew what I felt for her, what I’ve always felt for her, and make sure she knew she was my first choice now. I dated it, folded it and tucked it away, praying that when I got home and gave it to her, she’d know that I had chosen her for good. She’s always been the choice. I was just too stubborn to see it.

I’ll be home soon, Farrah, and I’m claiming what’s mine.

I already sit with the guilt and loss of one. I won’t let it become two.

CHAPTER 15

FARRAH

I can hearthe bass booming from my house and I laugh. “Oh, Britt, how does Bobby deal with you?” I chuckle to myself and grab two wine bottles from the fridge and head out across the street and up the driveway to Britt and Bobby’s house. She’s hosting girls’ night tonight while the guys are out at Moose’s.

“I’m a hustler baby, I just want you to know…” I open the door and am flooded with the old school Jay-Z song and find Britt on top of her island counter.

“Farrah! Get over here!” I’m ushered inside by Francesca.

“You better stay close to her. She’s looking a little tipsy already!”

“Ha! This is nothing.”

Don’t I know it? I smile and enjoy the feeling of being swallowed up by my girls. Chelsea gives me a hug and Adley grabs the bottles from me and gives me a hip bump on the way.

“Get up here!” Britt is reaching down, trying to haul me up alongside her.

“Oh, no! Many shots are needed before I get up there!”

“Such a killjoy!” She snickers and jumps down, telling Alexa to turn down the volume.

“You’re going to get the cops called on us if you don’t settle down.”

“Ooh, there’s an idea. Farrah, which one of your boy toys is on tonight? Let’s get a noise disturbance call going.”

I turn to Francesca and find her leaning on the counter, her face in her hands and wearing a shit-eating grin. I pop my hand on my hip and, with a tone in my voice, ask, “Are we really jumping right into this?”

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