Page 83 of The Forbidden Bodyguard

No one.

I didn’t bother replying; she was going to keep talking whether I liked it or not. And while I didn’t have time, a part of me needed to hear a happy story.

What kid didn’t love hearing that their parents loved one another?

“Matthew, your dad, was with a bunch of his friends outside the movie theater. I was with your Aunt Tracey. We were going to see Cocktail with Tom Cruise.” She’s not present right now. She’s in the past with Dad. “He was such a heartthrob back then. We both had crushes on him.”

I groan.

She giggles and sounds like a young woman again. I can almost hear Dad saying let her talk, let her tell you.

“We were eighteen and nineteen, and Aunt Tracey had the tickets. Or so we thought. She’d lost them.”

It was as if God had intervened.

“It was as if God had intervened so your father and I would meet. I’d seen him when we arrived and saw him watching me. But when we thought we couldn’t see Tom Cruise, I was upset.”

As we stood to the side, counting—

“As we stood to the side, counting our money, trying to come up with enough to buy two more tickets, and quibbling over the situation, your dad walked over and introduced himself.”

I can see Dad doing it. He used to smile when Mom told this story.

“I couldn’t watch for a moment longer, son. Your mom was distressed,” Dad said one day, winking. “So, I rode in on my horse and saved the day.”

“You bought us tickets.” Mom rolled her eyes. “Not like you cured cancer.”

He leaned over, kissed her cheek. “I made you sit next to us and go out with me the next day.”

I grew up with the two of them acting like lovesick teenagers all my life. She was so proud that he was a Navy SEAL. Anyone who would listen, she’d tell them how handsome he looked in his uniform and that he was protecting Americans.

All of which was true.

My dad was a handsome man, and he served his country with pride.

Every SEAL I know is humble as hell, mostly because egos have no place in the teams—that shit will get you killed—but Dad proudly displayed his Silver Star and Bronze Star medals in his study.

When he died, in an undisclosed location while on a mission, despite knowing it could happen one day, my mother inconsolable. She lost him and a part of herself that day.

I expected her to get on my case about leaving the Navy, but she didn’t. A few months after his death, she became my biggest advocate. What I didn’t realize at the time was she’d transferred all her love and pride toward me.

Which is lovely, but underneath it all, she had no identity without Dad...and then me being a SEAL.

She has never stood alone and been comfortable in her own skin simply for who she is.

There is nothing I can do; she has to work this out on her own. As hard as it is to carry on with my life and know this, I love her.

She’s the kindest, most adoring mother on the planet. But as it turns out, it’s me having to do the tough love thing.

Being a SEAL is one of the greatest honors of my life, but the game of war has changed. If the country needed me, I would step up, but I no longer want to fly into enemy territory knowing I may not make it home any week of the year.

“He loved you more than anything, Mom.”

“Your father loved you too, Declan. I know he wanted more kids, but it wasn’t our destiny. We were blessed to have you, and knowing you followed in his footsteps was his greatest joy.”

I shook my head. “No, Mom. You were his greatest joy.”

She went quiet.