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I know this is just her way of bringing up the subject.
I don’t have a problem with Dr. Alverez. She’s actually one of the better therapists I’ve spoken with. The ones required in the Marine Corps weren’t bad, they were just overburdened and exhausted. It’s hard for one person to provide adequate mental health services to the hundreds of people needing them.
“Tomorrow. I think this is ready for you.”
I want to curl into her when she places her warm hand on my back and peeks around to the cutting table.
“I really appreciate you helping me.”
“I still think you should take a break.”
“Staying busy helps me cope,” she explains. “It doesn’t keep my mind from playing back every second, but it helps a little.”
She takes a deep breath before returning to her side of the table.
“I wish they would’ve sent these in separate containers. It’s a pain in the ass to have to separate them myself.”
As much as she wants me to talk about what happened and how it makes me feel, she’s as equally reluctant to talk about it herself.
“Could we order a different kind?” I ask, looking down at the pile of tiny beads she’s planning to use to repair a wedding dress.
“It’s fine.”
I’d offer to help, but I tried that yesterday. The beads she’s working with are so damn small, I can’t even get my fingers to work the way they need to in order to sort through them without making a mess.
“What does your dream wedding dress look like?”
My heart is racing with the question because I can picture her walking down the aisle toward me, but in my head all I can see is her face. I don’t care at all what she wears, just that the day will end with my ring on her finger and the echo of our vows in my ears.
“I haven’t thought about it,” she says, making my chest threaten to cave in. “Until recently.”
Her cheeks flare with that perfect, sexy shade of pink as she lifts her eyes to mine.
“Yeah?”
She quickly pulls her gaze away.
“It’s childish,” she mutters.
“There isn’t a single thing childish about thinking about our future.”
“Our?” she whispers.
“Do you really think I’d let you marry someone else?”
She scoffs. “Let?”
I knew she’d have an opinion about that word. My attention these last couple of days has been rather smothering.
I step around the table, positioning myself in front of her.
“You’re young,” I begin, lifting her chin up with the tip of my index finger when she tries to look away. “Probably too young, but I can’t live without you. I don’t even want to try.”
“I feel the same way about you. Not that you’re young. You’re rather ol—”
“Hush,” I tell her, loving the sounds of her laughter. “I vowed to marry you when I turned thirty, and although when I did that it had nothing to do with you or who you’d become, I know now I was always meant to fulfill that promise. I had to wait for you.”
“I’m glad you did,” she whispers, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Thank you for loving me.”
The first tear falls from her eyes.
“Always,” she vows, and I know she means it.
My girl is a little broken, a little scuffed and scarred from her past, but I have no doubt she means exactly what she’s saying. I don’t just hear the words. I feel them so deep inside of me.
I press my lips to hers, wrapping my arms all the way around her, and drink in the warmth of her body.
In this moment, I give up on the thought that Vaughn wouldn’t be happy about us being together. I know the man loved his sister, even on the days when she was getting on his nerves. He defended his country in an effort to keep them safe.
He could take one look at us and see how much we care for each other, how easily I’d lay down my own life to protect her. I don’t think a big brother could ask for much more than that.
Chapter 39
Devyn
Emmalyn is giving me that loving, motherly look. It’s the same one she’s given me many times in the six months since I showed up in New Mexico.
“You look stunning,” Em says, a sparkle to her eyes that makes me wonder if she’s going to cry.
I swear if she does, then I will, and Gigi spent too long on my makeup for it to be ruined so early in the day.
“Thank you,” I tell her, pulling my eyes away as Em grabs a tissue from the box. I normally wouldn’t have a box of them in here, but Oracle decided to try his hand at sewing last week and literally sewed his hand to a scrap of cotton fabric. He said it didn’t hurt, but it sure bled a lot.
