“I know, I heard you,” he says, stepping toward me. “I went by to see you this morning, to talk to you, and your mom said you left.”
“And you flew here that fast?”
“Drove,” he corrects. “I couldn’t let you do this. I told you I wouldn’t let us end and I meant it. I just needed a few days to figure everything out. I didn’t want to say anything without knowing the facts.”
“What facts?” I ask, confused.
“I’m leaving the military.” He presses his palm to my cheek. “You said you can’t give up your dreams while I follow mine, but what you don’t understand is that my dreams, they all revolve around you and our son. Your dreams are mine. The military was my way to escape. It gave me purpose, stability. But when I’m with you, I feel all of that and more. I feel centered. Complete. My heart is so damn full.”
“But you love the military.”
“No.” He frames my face with his other hand. “I love you and RJ. I love our life together. I’m out. I signed my release papers. My contract was up for renewal when I returned, but I didn’t sign it.”
He’s out.
No more risking his life.
No more leaving to go overseas.
“What will you do?”
He chuckles. “I have an engineering degree and a bank account with more money than most dream of. I’m sure I can figure it out. Until then, I was thinking I could follow in my dad’s footsteps and be a stay-at-home dad for a little while, while you follow your dreams.”
“I was coming back,” I say. “My voicemail…”
“I know, I heard, and I love you even more for that. That you would be willing to give up your dreams to be with me is the most selfless thing anyone has done for me, besides my parents adopting me. But that’s not what I want for you…for us. You deserve to finish school and create a future for yourself. And I want nothing more than to be here with you while you do it.”
“What do you think?” Sonia asks, making her presence known. I completely forgot about her being in here.
“We’re going to have to pass,” Ryan says politely. “There’s been a change of plans.”
“There has?” I ask.
“Yeah, we have all summer to find a home where we can place roots.”
“A home,” I mimic. The sound of that word brings fresh tears to my eyes.
A home here in San Diego, with Ryan and RJ.
“I was thinking on the beach,” he says. “I don’t know about you, but the beach is kind of special to me.” He winks, and heat warms my insides.
“The beach sounds perfect.”
“Good.” He takes my hand in his and slides my engagement ring back onto my finger. “No more taking this off. You’re mine, and I’m yours. We’re in this together…forever.”
Ryan
Fourteen Months Later
“Daddy, I help!” RJ insists, grabbing a handful of strawberries and dropping them onto the waffle I’ve just placed on the center of the plate.
“You’re a big help,” I tell him. “Can you do the blueberries too?”
“Yes!” He digs into the container and pulls out several blueberries, releasing them on top of the strawberries.
“I have some too?” he asks, already plucking a couple off the plate and into his mouth. “Mmm…” His bright blue eyes light up. “Foot cream next!”
I laugh, handing him the bottle of whipped cream. “Whipped cream,” I correct.
He ignores me, pressing the top. The whipped cream shoots out, all over the waffle, plate, and counter, making him giggle in excitement.
“Perfect,” I tell him, pouring the coffee and mixing in some milk and sugar.
“To Mommy!” he exclaims, jumping off the stool and onto the floor.
He grabs the flowers we picked up at the store, while I grab the tray and place the plate, mug, and silverware on it.
“Mommy!” he yells, when we enter the room. “Happy ‘Versary!”
Micaela groans, and her eyelids flutter open and closed a few times, adjusting to the light. “What?” she asks, sitting up and wiping the sleep from her eyes.
“Happy ‘Versary!” RJ repeats, thrusting the flowers at her.
“Happy Anniversary,” I say, placing the tray on her lap. I give her a quick kiss, and she grins happily.
“Happy Anniversary,” she says back.
“I made dat.” RJ points to the waffle filled with fruit and whipped cream.
“You did?” Micaela asks, lifting him up and placing him next to her before I can stop her.
“Babe, be careful,” I say, knowing she’s not going to listen.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m pregnant, not disabled.”
The day we found out she was pregnant, I started doing my research, reading every book I could get my hands on about pregnancy. Most of which scared the shit out of me. Since she’s only a couple months pregnant, we haven’t told anyone yet. I read you can miscarry early on, and it’s best not to tell anyone until you’re in the second trimester. I know. I know. I’m being overprotective. But in my defense, I wasn’t around for the first pregnancy, so while this is nothing new to her, it’s all new to me. And it’s scary as fuck.