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Outlet Beach, near the Coronado base. He remembered the day well. Surfing the punchy shore break, he’d wasted himself getting his groove on the board until twilight fell.
Yeah, he’d liked that night. Remembered how the mist from the night had still layered his skin, his entire body chilled, but he’d felt alive, had shaken off the near misses and sounds in his brain from his last op.
And then she was there, walking across the beach, wearing a light pink sundress, her skin kissed, her blonde hair down, smiling at him.
“I saw you surfing. You’re getting pretty good.”
He had unzipped his wetsuit, pulled it down to his waist, then grabbed a T-shirt and yanked it on. The sun had dipped into the far horizon, turning the sea to fire, and he wasn’t far behind.
Oh, he didn’t deserve her, and he knew it. She never asked where he’d been, when he’d return. Just kissed him goodbye and hello again. Walked with him along the shoreline as the sea chased them, washed away their footsteps.
“I made dinner. Fish tacos. I think I got the slaw right.” She picked up his towel, held it out to him. “Come home.”
He grabbed the towel and rubbed his hair, leaving it in spikes as he wrapped the towel around his neck.
Home. Not his home—he lived in bachelor barracks at the base, little more than a tiny room with a shared kitchen. But he was there so rarely.
Shae, on the other hand, rented a garage apartment two blocks off the ocean—a two-room addon to a larger house, so it wasn’t fancy, but it had a massive glass garage door that opened to the outside, to a deck outfitted with a swing and a fire table and deck chairs and a hammock that he’d fallen asleep in more often than he should.
Yeah, home.
He barely remembered the tacos, but he did remember climbing into the hammock with her tucked next to him, watching the sunset and thinkingperfect.
Right now, right here, everything he needed in his reach…yeah,perfect.
And then he’d kissed her, slow and long, with the ocean breezes finding their way to them, the night singing. She’d tasted of pineapple, and it wasn’t the first time he’d wished they were married.
But he’d made it home still a gentleman, and probably got deployed a few days later, and of course, the night had faded into the next op.
His eyes burned.I’m sorry, Shae.
Footsteps, and he glanced over to see Fraser headed toward him.
Ned turned back, hating that his cheeks were wet.
Fraser came up beside him, his hands in his pockets. Said nothing for a long time.
“In Nigeria, the sky was just this bright. Stars were a little different, but still, black as night, and yet breathtaking. I remember looking up and feeling so small.”
“And yet you had your buddy Colt with you.”
“He was pretty roughed up most of the time, and I was in a lot of pain—but yeah, I wasn’t alone.”
Ned nodded. “I—”
“If you’re going to shoulda-woulda, don’t. It won’t do you any good. Regrets like this get us nowhere.”
“I just want to hit something, all the time. All. The time.”
“I’ll remember that,” Fraser said and glanced at him.
Ned drew in a breath. “I should have married her years ago.”
“Wouldn’t have changed a thing, bro.” Fraser looked at him. “You’d still be standing out here, wondering how the world turned upside down so fast. Might not be this—might be something else. Life isn’t in our control, as much as we wish it were.”
A beat, then, “I have this crazy memory of us going camping—tubing really, one summer. You remember that?”
Ned frowned. “On the St. Croix? Yeah. I was about ten, maybe. We tied all our tubes together and went down the river.”
