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Hades rolls on his back and rubs his body side to side on our sheets, nesting himself in against our shared favorite person. I glower at the beast. “Stop stinking up my side of the bed, naughty boy.”
With his mouth as wide as his jaw will allow, he yawns loudly and immediately falls asleep, snoring as loud as a chainsaw. A lighter snore sounds off against my chest. I look at Josephine and see she’s fallen asleep too, exhausted from our travels.
I’m tired, but my mind is racing. Plus, I have a boner tenting my jeans. My woman’s proximity always gets me hard. Unfortunately, tonight I’ll go without.
In need of a distraction, I notice mypadre’sjournal on my nightstand. I haven’t opened it since receiving it from my dad’s best friend and SEAL leader, Captain Travis Warren, the night of our wedding. I reach over and snag it off the nightstand, running my fingers over the leather binding. His name is embossed on the front.Cruz Tabares.
Opening to the first page, I gulp down the torrent of emotions building inside of me. Travis said I would learn about mypadreon these pages. Maybe it’ll bring me some closure after losing my parents so young. With a sigh, I settle against my wife and read.
* * *
February 2nd, 1988
I met her today, the woman I’ll marry and build a family with. Gabriella Ortega. The most beautiful brunette I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her smile can make a grown man weak in the knees and her rich brown eyes melt any heart.
I was already hooked when I saw her, but when she opened her mouth and started swearing at me in Spanish, I was sold. How could such a pretty mouth say such vulgar things and still be so irresistible? She has bewitched me.
She’s an American nurse with Doctors without Borders helping in Colombia. The makeshift clinic of tents is overworked and crowded with more people than the staff will ever be able to properly help. Our SEAL team is here to gather intel from the natives on a drug lord known as Esteban Moreno.
The locals call him portador de la muerte because everything he comes in contact with suffers or dies. The man is vile. He’s harmed more of his countrymen than any other Colombian overlord. Asking his victims questions will help us gather valuable information on the monster and bring him to his knees.
Being able to speak fluent Spanish has made me the interpreter for our team, and I take my role seriously. I overstepped while trying to question a battered woman who had a firsthand account of how atrocious the man is. The conversation was going well. Then the woman looked terrified, clamming up.
Exhausted, frustration got the best of me. I snapped at the woman, calling her a coward for not sharing her information. I hate to admit it, but I was trying to guilt her into opening up, saying she was enabling him to do it again to someone else.
It was while I was losing my cool and behaving like a total asshole that Gabriella walked in and overheard me. She marched right up to me, grabbed me by the collar of my uniform, yanking me to my feet—a feat when you consider how big I am. She pushed me out of the tent, yelling at me for being a prick to a woman who was just victimized.
Rightfully chastised, I apologized profusely, but Gabriella was having none of it, telling the team and me to take a hike.
I only learned later tonight the reason the victimized woman stopped talking with me was that she thought she saw Esteban enter the clinic site. Gabriella put herself at risk by putting the spotlight on both of us and away from the victim. But that’s the person she is—protecting all others at any cost.
I’ve fallen hard for her, and I only met her this morning. I’m going back tomorrow to see if I can smooth things out and win her heart.
* * *
With a sniffle, I wipe at my eyes, unaware I’d been crying. My father’s words have struck a chord. The start of my parents' love story sounds eerily similar to Josephine’s and mine.
Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl at first sight, boy pisses girl off, girl puts him in his place, boy is determined to claim girl.
This is the first time I’ve ever noticed how similar I am to my old man. Myabuelawould tell me I reminded her of mypadrewhen I chose the same sports or took an interest in the same school subjects as mypadre, but herewas a personal piece he had written, which gave me a firsthand account of our similarities.
The journal has both lifted my pride and filled me with sorrow. I’ve read enough heavy for one night and place it back on the nightstand. With a resounding sigh, I pull my wife against me and allow myself to drift off.
