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I tried to put it all behind me and I focused on my business. Then Graham died in Malaysia, and I needed money to keep Brimstone going so I went to the brownstone to see what needed to be done to put it up for sale and that’s when I found them. The letters.
I lay on the hotel bed, remembering everything – at least, as much as I could remember. There was just too much to deal with. Sue’s death, my own injuries, Graham…
Truthfully, the only time in the past three years that I felt happy, truly happy, had been with Miranda. When we were together, no matter what we were doing -- eating pizza naked while watching television in my hotel room in Topsail Beach, sitting on the patio watching the surf, walking along the boardwalk, I felt – happy.
Like I could do that forever.
She was perfect for me. Perfect.
I couldn’t imagine anyone else being as perfect as her. Besides Sue, I had never felt that way about a woman. Not in the three years since Sue died and not before her.
I felt such incredible guilt that I’d taken away Miranda’s new husband and made her a widow. My mission killed Lewis. He died because of me.
How could I face her and tell her that?
In the end, I was a coward and it was hard for me, someone who lived through several tours of duty in Iraq and then in Special Forces in Afghanistan, to admit I was a coward when it came to facing the widow of the man who died to save my life.
I shouldn’t have even been in Arlington to attend any of the memorial services. Maybe I needed to go to one of those group grief counseling sessions Casey kept talking about…
After a few scant hours of sleep, I woke early and got up, showered, dressed in my uniform, and then made my way to Arlington National Cemetery so I could pay my respects before any of the families arrived. I’d stop, snap a few pictures of the headstones and plaques of the men I knew who were killed in action. Then I’d leave.
Miranda didn’t need to see my face. She must hate me for what I did to her and seeing me again would only be adding insult to injury. I parked and began my walk through the grounds. Arlington National Cemetery is a beautiful location. The graves are marked by whit
e headstones, row upon row that rest beneath trees, and the grass surrounding them is green and lush. Overhead that day, the sky was blue and it was peaceful as I wandered among the rows of headstones.
Using the App on my iPhone to locate the graves of several marines from my old battalion, I walked through the rows of headstones. While I walked, emotion built inside of me as memories of my time in Iraq and Afghanistan came flooding back. I found the names of several Marines who died during my first tour of duty during the surge and I bent down to touch their grave markers.
The Columbarium and Niche Wall were also impressive, with plaques on the wall, the whole complex feeling like a trip back to some Greek or Roman temple with the carved stone arches and walls. It was early, and I hoped to miss anyone who might know me – especially Miranda. As much as I would have liked to thank Dan’s parents in person, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt Miranda any more than I had already.
While I was standing in one of the alcoves, looking for Lewis’s plaque, I heard some voices and turned to see, in the distance, Miranda with a couple who I assumed were Mr. and Mrs. Lewis. I quickly left the spot in the hopes that Miranda didn’t recognize me for the brief moment she might have seen me.
I walked along the edge of the field, beneath the trees that grew on the perimeter of Arlington, hoping to make it back to the visitor parking area before anyone stopped me. I heard someone behind me and turned.
Miranda.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Miranda
The first few days after Beckett left were hell.
I managed to make it through the day after Scott gave me the package of letters and I realized who left them.
Beckett…
He had the letters all along. He knew who I was from the first moment he walked into the bar.
Why did he pretend to not know?
Did he get some kind of perverted pleasure knowing who I was, that the letters were mine, and he succeeded in seducing me? He was a Marine. Did he have no honor or respect for the fact that my husband died in Afghanistan?
After Dan died, I felt like a big hole opened up in my chest and nothing could fill it. Then Beckett came along and for the first time in months, I felt alive. I felt happy. I had fallen in love with him – or at least, in lust – and looked forward to more time together once I returned to Manhattan to see what could develop between us.
He was so wonderful, in every way.
Or so I thought…
I worked the next evening, glad that it was a pretty slow night, but Steve wasn’t helping things, and kept asking about my ‘boyfriend’ and where he was.
