Before long, she tips her head back and calls out my name as she comes, “Tanner.” and it’s the sexiest sound I have ever heard.
“Abigail,” I shout as I follow her over the edge.
I roll to my back taking her with me as we let our breaths slow and the sweat on our bodies cools. She traces over the circular scars on my side and chest with the tip of her finger in the moonlight.
“What happened?” she asks. When I don’t answer right away she says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.
“You should ask,” I say softly. “I was shot.” Her body tenses and I can tell that she is upset. It is upsetting to know that someone you’re intimate with, someone you’re growing to care for was shot.
“As a Ranger?” she asks.
“No,” I explain. “We were on patrol during deployment. My team got some bad intel and we were ambushed. I was shot and my friend, Will died.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was over ten years ago,” I tell her.
“Do they bother you?” she asks, and I wonder if she’s asking about my scars or her own.
“The scars don’t define us, Abigail. They’re just part of the journey.” That seems to relax her as it does me because it’s true but also because we both needed the reminder. She curls up like a kitten in my arms and drifts off to sleep. I wrap my arms around her and do the same, more at peace than I have ever been.
