"You got anything with emeralds and snowflakes?"
He blinks. Then grins. He unlocks a display case then pulls out a piece of jewelry.
He lays the ring on the counter.
It’s perfect.
A square emerald, deep and rich, set between two delicate snowflake-cut diamonds. Simple. Stunning. Symbolic.
Me. Her. And our girl.
I don’t ask the price.
I just say, "Wrap it up."
The drive back to Devil’s Peak feels like a thousand years and a second, all at once. My fingers tap the steering wheel the whole way. I keep checking the clock, like every minute I’ve been gone was one too many.
The ring spins slow on my finger. Not fast. Not wild. Just steady.
Like her.
Like the way she walked into my life—soft but unshakable.
I can’t help thinking about the desert.
Dust in my mouth. Heat searing my lungs. Blood on my boots that wasn’t mine.
We lost three guys.
I don’t think I blinked for two days. Didn’t speak. Didn’t sleep. Just stared at the edge of the cot like if I moved, I’d shatter.
Then the letter came.
Kat. That’s what the envelope said.
Her handwriting was always neat. Big loops. Like she still took the time to write with care, even when the world was moving too fast.
I tore it open like it might save me.
And maybe it did.
Dear Jack,
I can’t believe I’m finally going to college. I mean, part of me still wants to say screw it and hop on a plane to anywhere-but-here. But Northern California it is. My parents have been on my back about it every day—telling me to do the practical thing. I’m so tired of being ‘practical.’ What I really want is adventure. Wild, messy, beautiful adventure.
Also, I don’t know if this is weird to say, but... I really hope I get to meet you soon. I know you said there’s a chance you’ll be home on leave for Spring Break. If you are... I’ll be there. I want to see your mountain. I want to see you.
Love, Kat
That part.
That sentence alone cracked me open.
Because at that point, I wasn’t even sure Iwassomeone worth seeing. I was a shadow with a rifle. A heartbeat moving through heat and shrapnel.
But her words...
She reminded me I was still human.
