by K. R. Reese
I make it through the rest of the ceremony, participate in the pictures, toasts, and dinner afterward. Then I pack up my belongings with everyone else and leave the newlyweds at the cabin by themselves.
Once I’m lying in my childhood bedroom that night, I let the thoughts consume my mind as I try to fall asleep. It’s times like these, I wish I were anywhere but here. But I can’t change the past, or the future. I’m happy for my best friends, but I’m filled with a lot of regrets, too.
I stir in bed, shifting toward Dylan with my eyes shut. A smile plays on my lips and my chest bursts with love for this man when his arms tighten around me.
“Hey,” I say, my morning voice raspy. I open my eyes. I couldn’t love him more if I tried; he’s everything to me.
“Hey, Baby.” Dylan grins as my eyes roam over his chiseled abs. The memory of last night, of making love causes a blush to spread across my skin.
I stretch out my arms, and Dylan leans down and closes his mouth over my nipple. Holy hell.
He groans. “Baby, you can’t tease me right now. It’s your birthday and I have stuff waiting for you downstairs.”
“Stuff?” My excitement grows. “Stuff, like presents, stuff?” I instantly pop up to my knees, bouncing on the bed.
When I see him smile, it means everything to me. Not too long ago, Dylan was drowning in darkness. The gleam in his eyes now tells me he’s feeling good.
“Yeah, Baby, stuff like presents. And cake. And ice cream.” Before he can say anything else, I pop out of bed and grab my clothes from the floor. We must have thrown it there last night during our attempt to land on the bed rather than the floor.
I hear Dylan’s footsteps follow me down the stairs, but I walk into the living room, a few presents on the table. I don’t know which one to open first.
“Which one do I open first?” I ask, rubbing my palms together. Dylan laughs.
“Damn, Baby, if I knew presents were going to make you this excited, I would get them more often,” he chuckles. He leans in and presses a soft kiss on my lips, then pulls away and leans toward the first box he comes across. “You need to open this one first.” He passes me the box.
There’s a dog tag, albeit a smaller version than the ones he wears, inside the box. I flip it over to find it’s engraved. You’re my light in the darkness. I’ll always come home to you. I love you.
My chest grows tight and tears well in my eyes. It’s times like these that I hate that he enlisted, that my best friend enlisted with him. They’ve been shipped out together twice, and I was miserable both times.
“Is Cole going with you again?” I whisper, unable to look directly at him yet.
Making something of themselves has always been a dream. They thought they needed to prove themselves. “I know…I know you feel the need to go. You both do. I knew it would happen again, I just…I didn’t think it would be so soon after...” I let my voice trail off. I don’t want to bring up unwanted thoughts, for Dylan or myself. The last time they deployed, it took them both a few months to get their minds straight. Thunderstorms and loud noises were their worst enemies, and I didn’t know how to help. I couldn’t help.
“Cole’s not going this time. He’ll be right down the street. Maybe he can come stay here, that way you aren’t alone.” I don’t like the edge to his voice, but I leave it alone. A part of Dylan will always worry that there’s something going on between us. Though nothing has happened in years to warrant that response, it’s still very present in his mind. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t trust that Cole wouldn’t look after me and take care of me if he needed to.
“I would rather be alone. He’s worse than Mason.” I gasp and stare at my husband in shock. “Will you be with him?” A small bit of hope blooms in my chest.
My little brother has been deployed for three months and I’ve only heard from him twice in that time. I hate to think about what he’s going through, especially knowing the effects it can have on anyone. Cole and Dylan were fine examples of that.
Dylan shakes his head. “I don’t think so, but you never know.”
“Dylan…” Tears roll down my cheeks. “I knew this was coming, I just didn’t know when. I’ve tried to prepare myself mentally for this. I just…when do you leave?”
Dylan winces. “I leave in two days. I’ve known for a little while, but I didn’t want you to sulk the last few weeks I was home.” He speaks the words softly, expecting me to be angry.
In a way, I guess I am. But not at him for keeping this from me. I’m just angry that he’s being taken away from me again.
Before I can say anything, he pulls me into his chest and kisses my temple. “Chey, I love you. I don’t know how long this deployment will be, but I’ll do my best to stay in touch as much as possible. You know there are times that I may be off the radar…” Dylan pauses and takes a deep breath.
“Don’t you dare say it, Dylan.” My tears fall harder. “Nothing is going to happen to you. You’ll always come back home to me, remember? There’s no need to tell me to move on,” I sob against his chest. “You’re it for me.”
“Chey, please listen to me.” His thumb grazes my cheek, wiping away my tears. “I don’t say these things to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want to do. I say them because I need to know that if something were to happen to me, that you wouldn’t check out. That you would continue to live your life. I need to hear you promise me, Cheyenne. I’ll do my damnedest to come home, like I’ve done every deployment. But I need to hear the words, Baby.” He begs as if it’s his last breath, and his own tears start to spill down his cheeks.
I take a deep breath because I don’t know what else to do. No matter what I promise him now, he’ll always be it for me. I can’t imagine a world where he doesn’t exist, where he isn’t by my side.
“I promise,” I mumble.
I’m in the kitchen preparing dinner when I feel like someone’s staring at me. I turn around to find Cole standing in the doorway.
“Hey, Chey, how are you holding up?” he asks, concern etched in his features.
I shrug, unable to answer in fear my voice will crack. Dylan invited him over tonight to tell him he was leaving, but I think it’s more than that. I want to talk to Cole about it, but there’s nothing I can say without my husband hearing.
Cole tilts his head to the side and observes my face. He knows me better than most, so he knows I’m not saying something. He walks across the small space and leans against the counter beside me.
“What’s going on, Chey?” he whispers, glancing in the direction of the living room.
“When Dylan told me he was deploying, he kept saying things that he’s never said before. I mean there’s the obvious shit, the typical spiel I get when you guys leave, but there was more.” I know there is worry present on my face. I can’t hide it.
“What exactly did he say?” Now Cole’s face matches my own.
“He’s talking about me moving on if something happens to him, that I won’t just check out. That I’ll keep on living without him. He made me promise him.” I sigh. “What’s so different about this deployment than any other? You’ve both gone on them, this isn’t the first time we’ve gone through this. I just…I don’t understand what brought this on. I don’t understand the change in his attitude toward them.” I sigh. “I know after the last time; it was hard for you both. But I don’t think that’s what’s caused this change in him.”
Cole’s jaw is clenched tight and his eyes are hard. He won’t look at me now, which tells me he knows something. I shove him and then cross my arms over his chest. His gaze swings to me.
“What’s that look for?” I ask, anger in every word.
He runs his hand over his head and closes his eyes. “You know I can’t, Chey,” Cole whispers, pain his eyes now. As much as he wants to tell me, talk to me, his commitment to the Army won’t allow it.
I shut the stove off and storm out of the room. “Enjoy your dinner, you two.” I throw the words over my sh
oulder and lock myself in our bedroom.
I expect Dylan to follow me, or even Cole, but neither of them does.
I drop down on the opposite end of the couch from Dylan. He’s staring at the television, but I don’t think he’s really watching the game. There’s something going on with him, and I only have a day to figure it out.
“Can we talk?” I ask tentatively.
He breaks his concentration to look over at me. There’s a sigh, then he nods.
“Cheyenne finished dinner. Then she stormed off upstairs and locked herself in your bedroom. I was going to go after her, but I think she needs time to think for herself. She said some things…” I don’t finish my sentence, watching for a reaction.
Of course, I don’t get one. “I figured she would say something to you. I knew it wouldn’t get far before she spilled.”
I rest my elbows on my knees and stare at the floor. “Mind telling me what that’s about?”
After our last deployment, neither of us were ready to go back any time soon. At least I thought we weren’t. But there’s a reason he’s going on this mission and I’m not. He volunteered. I didn’t tell Cheyenne that, of course, because it would only upset her and cause a fight. But Dylan can’t hide the truth from me; I was offered the same thing he was.
“I had no idea you were going to go. I would’ve come with you.” I keep my voice down in case she’s listening.
“I wasn’t going to. I was going to stay home, spend some time here before I jumped back into the action again. But the longer I thought about it, the worse this feeling got. I’m antsy. I’m paranoid. The more I sit at home and twiddle my thumbs, the crazier I seem.”
I can understand that. I get it, really, I do. When you’re used to the adrenaline rush and the excitement of the chase, it’s addictive. But after what happened a few months ago, I’m in no rush to go back.
“There’s a lot of things that could have fed that same urge here. At home. With your wife. You didn’t have to sign up for a suicide mission.” I grit out.
“It isn’t a suicide mission, man,” he laughs. “They wouldn’t willingly throw us to the wolves. I admit, it looks bad. It looks impossible. But a lot can happen and we’re the best there is, Cole. I had to do it.”
“You didn’t have to do shit. Your wife is locked upstairs in your room because she doesn’t understand why you feel the need to leave all the time. Not only that, but she said you’re acting differently this time around. From what I could get her to tell me, you’re talking morbidly, like you’re already dead. What the fuck, man?”
Dylan stares straight ahead again, unable to meet my gaze. “Listen, as much as I love my job, as much as I love my wife. There are risks with every deployment. This one just happens to have more risks than usual. I needed to hear her say it, Cole, because you and I both know what’ll happen. Now, I need you to promise me something.”
I stand and clench my fists. “Fuck no. I won’t promise you shit. You need to go talk to her and apologize. I’m not doing this morbid bullshit with you.”
Dylan flinches and puts his finger against his lips. “Please. Hear me out.” He gestures back to the couch and I sit down again.
“I know neither of you want to think of anything going wrong. But face it, Cole, shit goes wrong all the time. Look at our last…”
I cut him off. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”
He nods and continues. “I need you to promise me something.” I glare at him. “I need you to promise that if something happens to me, you’ll take care of her. I need to know someone’s always looking out for her. Otherwise, she’ll fold into herself.”
“I promise,” I snap out. “What kind of promise is that? She’s my best friend. I’ll always look out for her, even with you sitting right here.”
Dylan shakes his head. I stand to leave, but I stop short and turn back to him. “You need to go upstairs and fix this. The thoughts running through her head aren’t what she needs before you leave tomorrow, man, trust me.”
“I’m heading up there now,” he mumbles.
I slept like shit last night. Every time I closed my eyes, Cheyenne’s heartbroken expression from the kitchen stared back at me. Then, when I finally started to fall asleep, nightmares plagued my mind all night.
I’m on my fourth cup of coffee and it isn’t doing anything to take the pain in my head away. I walk down the sidewalk toward Dylan and Chey’s house. We’re supposed to leave in a few hours, but I need to see what’s going on today. After I left last night, I didn’t hear from either of them.
I knock on the door and listen for any type of movement inside. Cheyenne isn’t a morning person, but that doesn’t mean Dylan isn’t awake. After years of waking up before sunrise, you become accustomed to it. That’s why I’m even more surprised when she’s the one who answers the door.
“Come on in,” she grumbles as she stalks back toward the kitchen.
“I’m sorry if I woke you. I thought Dylan would at least be awake already.” I say as I trail behind her.
“Well, he hasn’t woken up yet. We got into an argument last night and I’m sure his hangover will be extra special today when he has to board a giant plane.”
I cringe and check her over. There are dark circles under her eyes and her hair is a mess. But that’s not what catches my attention the most. Her eyes are bloodshot, like she’s been crying and hasn’t slept all night.
“Are you okay, Chey?” I step closer and pull her into a hug. She wraps her arms around my waist and leans into me.
“I’m not sure I’ll be okay for a while, but today’s not about me.” Her words are barely audible.
“It’s absolutely about you. It’s about both of you. Did Dylan tell you that?” She holds up her hand to stop me.
“He didn’t tell me anything. Other than I was being selfish. I really don’t want to talk about this. I don’t even know what this is. I want to drink my coffee, then I have to start getting ready.”
I nod and fill her mug for her. She nods in thanks and we sit in silence.
I watch her intently, trying to understand what happened in the past few years of our lives.
After their wedding, we went back to training. It took four months rather than three because of a hurricane that happened in the area. To both our surprise, the assignment afterward kept us together, too, and since they were married, Cheyenne moved to base with us.
Now, here we are. A few years later and we still live at the same base where all our adventures began.
“You should go wake him up, get some food in him. He’s going to need it.” I say it low, afraid to startle her.
She gestures toward the stairs with the hand not holding her mug. “If you want to deal with him, be my guest. He went to bed so late, he’s probably still drunk.”
I grunt and make my way to their room. The door is ajar, and I can see Dylan lying half off the bed, snoring loudly. I enter without knocking first and shove him. Dylan shoots up in bed and stands chest-to-chest with me.
“Back the fuck down, Dylan. Now.” I clench my fists and growl in his face.
It takes a moment for his eyes to focus, then they widen at my stance. “Shit,” he grumbles. Dylan runs his hands down his face. “What time is it? I thought I had longer to sleep when I went to bed this morning, but I still feel like death.” He stumbles into the adjoining bathroom and I follow.
“Well, that probably has something to do with all the alcohol you consumed last night. After, or maybe it was before, you told your wife she was being selfish for wanting you to stay home.”
He meets my gaze in the mirror after he splashes water on his face. “She told you that, huh? That’s the story she’s going with.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I stand with my arms crossed over my chest, leaned against the doorframe.
“We fought last night because of how I was acting, not about the deployment. Then, we made up; I’m surprised you didn’t hear us down the street.�
�� There’s a smirk on his face; he’s trying to get a rise out of me. Instead, I don’t react at all. “Yeah, I got drunk afterward because who knows when I’ll have the fucking chance to do it again. Last I checked, it isn’t a crime.”
I laugh sardonically and shake my head. “You are fucking unbelievable. What the fuck happened to you?” I go to walk away, leave the bedroom, and go back downstairs until we leave. But his next words cause me to freeze.
“What fucking happened? Where should I start? There were fucking six of us, Cole, you know that! How many times have we been told not to lose focus? How many times was there reason to celebrate, but we didn’t because it would jeopardize our life or someone else’s on the team?” He half-laughs, half-sighs. “Chris knew that shit. He knew and he did it anyway. Then I had to carry him back to base on my back. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have died. We could have called in others. We could have, I don’t know, bunkered down until gunfire ceased. But instead, I got the bright idea to carry him through the middle of a town swarmed with terrorists. I used his God damn body as a shield and hadn’t meant to. There’s…”
Dylan’s standing close now, right behind me. I spin on my heel and sit him on the bed. Today shouldn’t be happening. I should have fought more to go talk to someone, should have fought him more. There’s no way he should be heading into another war zone like this. But I know he’ll hate me if I say anything to have him pulled. Because he believes he can make up for what he’s done, even though he’ll never be able to rid himself of the guilt completely without believing it wasn’t his fault.
He beats on his chest and stares at me without really looking at me. “It’s my fault he’s dead. He didn’t get to meet his daughter. He was so excited to become a dad, and I took that away from him. From her.”