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There’s a barely perceptible nod.
“They all knew that too. And did you complete your mission?”
Alpha stares at me like I’m crazy. “Technically, yes. I got the ambassador and his family out, but—”
“Alpha, listen to what you just said.Yourjob,yourduty,was to completeyourmission. To get the ambassador and his family back on US soil unharmed. Withoutyougoing back for them,theywould have been tortured for US information and brutally murdered. You. Are. A. Fucking. Hero.”
“What about the fucking dishonorable discharge?” He goes to turn away from me, but I grab his arm, spinning him back to face me.
“That’s a formality. Theyhadto do that. Did they press any formal charges?”
“Nope.”
“Did they make a song and dance about it in the media?”
“No?” he answers more like a question.
“Exactly!Because they were indebted to you because you completed the mission. They just couldn’t say that publicly because the optics look bad.” I sigh. “Alpha, I know losing your men, your brothers, isfucking painful,but it’snotyour fault. You were doing your duty to the people you were protecting, the ambassador and his family. Your team, ifanyone of them had gone back to fight for the ambassador likeyouhad, your brothers out there would have expected you to fight like they did. To die like they did.You’re just the unlucky bastard who survived. But don’t live with the guilt of that day, Alpha. Live with thehonorthat you saved an entire family. And withoutyou, they would have been brutalized.Thatis your takeaway fromtoday’s anniversary.”
He stumbles slightly on the spot, like realization is hitting him right where it is meant to. He lets out a long breath of air, slowly lifting his dog tags from around his neck and gently placing them in one of the inlets next to a half-empty bottle of tequila. “The one and only thing I ever wanted was to make my father proud of me… he was in the Forces,” he admits.
I step up behind him as he stares blankly at the half-empty bottle. “Alpha, I am sure he’s proud of you.”
“He died before he got to see me make the Special Forces. I felt like I let him down when all this shit happened eight years ago… but maybe I didn’t. Maybeheis the reason I did what I did. I stuck to the mission and saved the people I was tasked with.”
“He’s looking down on you, Alpha, seeing the man you have become and everything you’ve done with your life, and he’s smiling. I canpromiseyou that.”
He turns to face me, sliding his arms around my waist and holding me to him. “How the fuck did I get so lucky to find you?”
My arms wrap around his neck, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Pretty sure we found each other.”
Alpha leans in, gently pressing his lips to mine. That all-too-familiar spark ignites inside me, the one which always tells me that I have to be careful with how much of myself I give to this man. How much I let myself get wrapped up in him. Because it’s easy to simply fall into Alpha’s arms and let him hold me there.
He is a man I can see myself having a life with.
This is a place where I can see myself staying.
But it’s not a possibility for me.
Everything about this is a pipe dream.
Slowly pulling back, his eyes meet mine, my stomach churning with regret that I am deceiving him, especially in a moment as huge as this. He leans in, kissing me quickly once more, then he clears his throat, breaking away from me.“Thanks. You have a knack for making me see things from another perspective.”
“You’re welcome. But, I, ah… actually came in here for a reason.”
He raises his brow suggestively. “Oh, you looking for a little Alpha alone time already? It’s only been a couple of hours since—”
“Shut up!” Grabbing his hand, I lead him over to the bed, and we take a seat. “That’s not what I’m here about. One of the pigs is running a mild fever. She’s lethargic and not eating. I’m concerned.”
“Which one?”
“Fajita.”
His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “We can’t let anything happen to her.” The sheer panic crossing his face seems uncharacteristic before he pulls out his cell and starts dialing.
I sit back, not really sure what’s going through his mind right now. His breathing is quick as someone on the other end of the line answers, “Dr. Whitehead. It’s Fajita. She’s running a fever, not eating, and lethargic. I need you to come take a look at her right now.” He pauses, listening to whatever Dr. Whithead is saying, then his body visibly relaxes. “Thank you. We’ll see you soon.”
He ends the call, closing his eyes like he’s trying to keep his shit together for the second time in a short time space. I reach out, touching his arm, and instinctively, he flinches back, his eyes opening wide like he has been electrocuted. I raise my hands in surrender and he stands abruptly and walks back over to his memory wall again, picking up a plush toy pig.
