watched her eating or rather, trying to eat and obviously

  having to fight her reluctant stomach with every mouthful. It’d

  made me both sad and amused to watch her, as if she was

  giving herself a pep talk with every mouthful and then arguing

  with her pep-talking self. She tried so hard to get everything

  right and I loved her for it, for not just rolling over and giving

  up when things were hard.

  Loved.

  I didn’t need to mull over that thought. Didn’t need to talk

  it back. Didn’t need or want to deny it. I knew, with as much

  certainty as I knew my own name, that I loved her. Was in love

  with her. I had been for years and had hidden that love away

  and kept it as my own personal battery for when I felt low.

  Battery. Recharging, but could also be acidic and corrosive.

  An apt way to think of how it had been before I’d visited her

  house.

  I thought about eating breakfast with Sabine that morning.

  How we’d talked about our lives which, until that point, had

  felt so disparate. And then we’d both realized how alike we

  actually were, how suited we could be, and how our lives

  could come together and would remain together. And then I’d

  gone and almost jeopardized that one thing in my life that was

  more important to me than anything else.

  Sabine was the only person who made me feel so un-alone,

  so needed, so desired, so…enough as I was with all my flaws.

  And if I wanted to have her in my life for as long as it lasted,

  then something had to change, because the current situation

  was unworkable. I knew, and I was sure she did too, that

  despite agreeing to it, we’d never be able to work so closely

  together, live so closely together on deployment, and pretend

  that we were nothing more than commanding officer and

  subordinate. It would slowly chip away at both of us.

  There was only one thing that could change. Me and my

  job. I knew what I had to do and knew now I was strong

  enough to do it. I now had the support I needed if I left the

  military. I had something to leave the military for. Some one.

  We’d talked about this exact thing: me resigning. I’d resisted

  because I’d been so afraid. A stupid and pointless fear. The

  fear of thinking she might be dead, of seeing her injured, far

  outweighed my fear of leaving the only life I’d known for

  almost two decades.

  There was only one real, right solution. I needed to be with

  her, and the only way we could do that openly, honorably, was

  for me to resign. There was no anxiety, no fear, just relief

  which strengthened my resolve. This was the right thing for

  us. I almost went to speak with her about it, to confirm this

  was what she wanted, when I realized I already knew it was.

  We’d shown each other that repeatedly, now all that was left

  was for me to take this step for us.

  But first, I needed to regroup and recharge before I crashed.

  I took a shower and a nap, and woke feeling slightly more

  human. Shut away in my office, I called HR to confirm that

  what I thought I could do actually was something I could do,

  then logged into the online portal and made a few calculations

  before I wrote my letter and dragged out the relevant forms. I

  could have just sent them through without comment, but

  Donna was not only my boss but also a friend and she

  deserved an explanation. She answered on the second ring.

  “Donna, it’s Rebecca Keane.”

  “Rebecca.” She sounded pleased to hear from me. “How

  are you? How’s your friend? How was the wedding?”

  “She’s responding well to treatment, prognosis is as good

  as can be expected, which of course, isn’t great. It was a

  beautiful wedding, and I was so glad I could be there for her.”

  “I’m very pleased to hear that,” she said warmly, genuinely.

  A sudden surge of nervousness made me second-guess

  myself, and the words caught in my throat. Until I thought of

  the woman that was more important to me than what I was

  doing here. I cleared my throat. “I wanted to call you to tell

  you in person that I’m relinquishing my command and retiring

  from the Army. Effective end of this deployment. You’ll have

  my official letter and forms within the hour.”

  There was a long pause before she calmly said, “I see. That

  is not what I thought you were calling to tell me, Rebecca.

  May I ask why? I assume you’ve confirmed your eligibility.”

  I had to smile at her last statement, which sounded like she

  was grasping at straws to keep me here. “I have, and yes of

  course I’m eligible. And as to why? I…I found something

  that’s more important to me than the Army. Something

  personal.”

  “Personal,” she mused.

  I kept my tone light. “You’re not asking?”

  She chuckled. “No, I’m not. But you do know Don’t Ask,

  Don’t Tell will be a thing of the past, right? Just a few more

  years and it’ll be that monster under the bed that we all talk

  about.”

  “I know. But there are other factors at play here,” I said

  carefully.

  There was a pause. “Then I think I’m better off not

  knowing the reason…”

  “I think that’s wise.”

  Donna puffed out a long breath. “Goddammit, Rebecca.

  You’re one of my great ones. Now I have to put up with

  someone under my command who I bet I’ll hate.”

  “You know, Henry Collings is a good guy. And a good

  leader. If I had to recommend anyone, it’d be him. I’m sure

  you’ll be able to whip him into a shape you like in no time.”

  “I suppose.” I could almost hear the despondent rock-kick

  in her voice.

  “I really am sorry to do it like this but…there’s no other

  way forward for me.”

  “I understand. And I’m proud of you. It takes courage to

  grab what you want when there’s dozens of forces trying to

  hold you back.”

  My throat felt tight. “Thank you for everything, you’ve

  been a true friend for over half my military career. I don’t

  think I would have known what to do without you to lean on. I

  don’t even know how to thank you.”

  Donna laughed. “That one’s easy. Invite me to your

  wedding.”

  I sent my letter and forms through to Donna, along with a

  personal note thanking her again for her years of friendship

  and promising me retiring wouldn’t mean the end of it. The

  moment I’d hit Send, I felt a hundred emotions rush over me,

  but the overwhelming one was relief. That alone told me I was

  doing the right thing. After a quick stop to freshen up—hair,

  face, teeth—it was time to see Sabine.

  Unsurprisingly, Mitch was there, and Sabine glanced up as

  I knocked on the doorframe. Her color was good, and the

  moment she spotted me, her expression brightened. Mitch

  pulled his feet away from where he had them resting on the

  bed frame and stood to greet me with a polite, deferential,

  “Ma’am.” Since his questioning my post-operative plan, he’d

  dialed up his already high polite-to-my-boss, which I hoped

  meant he recognized that I’d made the right calls.

  I felt like I was interrupting an important conversation, and

  my smile was tentative. “May I come in?”

  Sabine nodded, then kept nodding like she’d found some

  momentum and couldn’t quite stop herself. “Of course,

  Colonel.”

  I stopped at the end of the bed, trying to figure out the

  looks I’d seen passing between the pair of them. Clearly a

  silent conversation.

  “I’ll leave y’all to it.” Mitch collected a chocolate-bar

  wrapper from the tray beside the bed, and left us with a quiet,

  “Colonel.”

  “Mitchell,” I said warmly.

  Mitch closed the door behind him. Interesting. My gut

  feeling was that he now knew about us. Though I was itching

  to talk to Sabine about stepping onto the path to—hopefully

  only a brief—unemployment, I had a more pressing need.

  Checking she was okay. Sabine watched me intently as I

  collected her chart and skimmed through details. There were a

  lot, even more than our usual thorough charting.

  She hadn’t needed any supplemental oxygen since

  yesterday. Good. But she was still having pain. I shifted to her

  shoulder and slid the chart onto her bedside table, nudging it

  so she wouldn’t be able to reach it. Her eyes narrowed, and I

  could tell she was having a hard time holding back her

  exasperation. I tugged the stethoscope from around my neck.

  “How are you feeling?” I only just held on to my darling.

  “Annoyed.”

  My mouth twitched at her obvious frustration but I held

  back my smile as I rubbed the diaphragm on my sleeve to

  remove some of the chill. Being in this bed probably ranked

  high on her list of tortures, as did not being told the minutiae

  of her recovery. She was being told what she needed to be

  told. “Why is that, Sabine?” I shifted her gown to the side,

  exposing the smooth skin of her chest, careful to keep her

  breasts covered.

  “Because nobody will tell me anything!” she croaked,

  looking up at me. It was a microsecond from being a pout.

  “You don’t need to know. You need to concentrate on

  recuperating.” I placed the diaphragm on the left side of her

  chest and when she shuddered, I murmured an apology. As the

  edge of my hand unintentionally brushed the exquisitely soft

  skin on her breast, her heart rate increased.

  Sabine muttered, “I don’t feel any fluid.” I recognized her

  adorable petulance as an attempt to cover her embarrassment

  at the fact there was no way I would have missed her reaction

  to my innocent touch.

  I raised a finger. “Be quiet, please.” I moved around,

  listening intently and thankfully hearing nothing I shouldn’t

  and everything I should. “Breathe in.”

  She inhaled slowly. Good.

  “And again.”

  She did so again.

  “Can you sit up for me?”

  “I’ll need some help, please,” she said.

  I helped her sit forward, keeping my hand on her shoulder

  for support. “How’d you sleep?” As I slid the stethoscope

  through the gap in her gown I saw the dressing covering the

  exit wound along her right scapular. Bruising had spread out

  past the dressing in an angry purple-black-green. I shifted my

  focus to the wall.

  “Okay.”

  Now she kept quiet as I listened, using my thumb to

  massage the tight tense muscle of her neck. “Any pain around

  the dressings or chest tube?” Carefully, I pulled her back to the

  pillow, fluffing it behind her.

  She bounced her shoulders. “A little. And some stiffness

  and weirdness.”

  What a perfectly Sabine answer. As I wrote my notes, I

  asked, “Stiffness and…weirdness you said? Is there a rating

  scale for those?” I let my grin free.

  “Don’t tease.”

  I laughed, finished my notes and set the chart back. Relief

  at the steadiness of her recovery made me feel light. “I think

  the chest tube can come out this afternoon. We’ll move you to

  Germany in the next day or two, then we can start thinking

  about recovery. It’ll be months. You’ll go back to the States.” I

  pulled the chair closer and dropped into it, crossing my legs.

  “Wonderful.” Sarcasm dripped from this one word. I could

  just tell she was going to be an absolute pain. And I looked

  forward to every one of those pain-in-my-ass minutes with her.

  She cleared her throat and fumbled for the PCA button and

  after pressing it twice with no response from the machine, I

  glanced at her. After checking the settings and dosage rates for

  the last 24 hours, I made an adjustment to allow her a little

  more pain relief. There was no need for me to ask if she was

  sure—I knew her and I trusted her. “Try now, Sabine.”

  “Thank you.” She pressed the PCA again and exhaled a

  quiet sigh when the machine acquiesced with a beep. “Why

  haven’t you moved me on to Landstuhl yet?”

  Because I can’t let you go. Because I want you with me

  forever. Because I’m scared. I softened my expression, hoping

  she hadn’t caught my fear. “Because I want you here where I

  can make sure you’re all right. I need you near me until I

  know…until I know you’re really safe.”

  She smiled, and singsonged, “You’re going to get in

  trouble.”

  “Yes, I know. And I don’t care.” She looked worried, that

  telltale movement of her teeth in her lower lip and the creasing

  of her eyebrows, and I wasn’t sure if she was worried about

  me getting into trouble or because she sensed I was about to

  drop something big on her. I caressed her face before settling

  back into the chair. “I thought I might come with you.”

  The PCA controller fell to the bed. “What do you mean?

  Come where? Germany?” Her voice pitched up on that last

  question.

  Despite my certainty, I still felt a flutter of anxiety at what I

  was about to tell her. “Home,” I whispered. “I’ve spoken to

  HR and handed in my letter of resignation.”

  “Really?” she squeaked out. “Why now?”

  “Because…” I blinked to catch tears before they fell. “I

  want to come home with you and help you recover. I want us

  to be settled when it’s time for you to leave the Army and

  come back home for good. We can deal with you finishing

  your contract, deployments and the distance later.”

  “Is that what you want?” Her words were starting to slur

  ever so slightly.

  I lightly held her forearm. “It is. I told you that you’d

  changed my perspective but if I can be honest, I wasn’t totally

  certain before. I wanted it and I wanted you, but I was scared

  to make such a drastic change to my life.”

  “I get it,” she said quietly.

  “Sabine, I cannot even begin to tell you the terror I felt

  when I heard your name on the incoming call. That fear is a

  million times worse than fearing a life change.”

  Sabine took my hand, interlacing our fingers and pulling

  my hand closer to her. Her fingertips slid back and forth over

  my knuckles. I tilted my head to the ceiling, not wanting to cry

  right now. If I cried, I didn’t think I’d be able to stop. But the

  tears came anyway and I gave in, letting them dribble down

  my cheeks. “I felt so…” I struggled to find the words to

  articulate my emotion. “Helpless. I was paralyzed by fear,

  Sabine. There aren’t words to describe it. I knew right then it

  was because I love you. I love you so much and I want to be

  with you, and this can work.” I wiped my eyes with the side of

  my hand. “It seems so simple now, why didn’t I see it?”

  Sabine choked, and I immediately moved forward to assist.

  “No, no,” she wheezed out. “I’m fine. I’m just…I don’t

  know. Relieved? Happy?” Her forehead wrinkled as her mouth

  worked open and closed. She looked like she was just making

  her mouth move in the hope words would come out of it.

  Eventually, she managed to blurt, “Full of opiates and unable

  to find a word? I love you. I love you too.”

  Laughing, I adjusted her gown that had slipped from her

  shoulder. The love I felt for her, feeling that reflected back at

  me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. But even as I

  felt cocooned by it, utterly absorbed in it, I wondered if it was

  yet strong enough to withstand her blame and my guilt over

  what had happened. She’d said nothing yet, but I was sure

  when she stopped to think about it, that feeling would come.

  “I’ll be deployed again after I’ve finished my medical

  leave.” She glanced down the right side of her body.

  “Assuming this arm works properly. It feels like it will, but…

  it’s so weak.”

  “You know this injury isn’t one that will affect your

  surgical career,” I assured her, hoping with everything I had

  that I wasn’t lying. I knew it rationally, but that fear I’d

  screwed up was an almost constant companion now.

  “What will happen? You’ll be back in the States and I

  could still be away on deployments or working in Germany

  until I’m out.” She raised her chin and found my eyes with

  hers, and the fear in her gaze made my stomach clench. “Are

  you sure you can wait for me back home?” she quietly asked.

  I knew exactly what lingered under the surface, the

 

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