Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Her eyes are still glued to the annulment paperwork, though, and I wait for her to give me her attention. I half expect her to lunge for it and demand a pen. Instead, her eyes come back to mine. She clears her throat. “What do you have to show me?”
I don’t ask for an invitation, but merely slide over to the middle cushion until I’m closer. Her knee brushes the edge of my thigh, and I’m stunned at how good just that obscure touch feels.
Reaching inside the folder, I pull out a photograph and hand it to her. “That’s me when I graduated from BUD/S.”
“BUD/S?” she asks curiously.
“Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL,” I say with a smile. “It’s a twenty-four-week course.”
“Then, you became a SEAL when you finished?”
I laugh. “No, I had a lot more training to do after that. I also had to complete a twenty-six-week SEAL qualification training program.”
I lean over, using my finger to point out the guys in my class, most of who I am still in close contact with. I explain the grueling, hellish things we had to go through to become SEALs, and I let her ask questions.
Reaching back into the folder, I pull out a newspaper article and hand it to her. “This is an article in my hometown paper from when I was awarded the Bronze Star.”
Jaime’s eyes widen. She takes the article, gaze roving over the words. It doesn’t provide details and I certainly can’t, but I explain what I can, “It’s for acts of heroism above the call of duty. A few others and I helped repel some anti-Iraqi forces from a field surgical hospital.”
She looks up at me, eyes filled with what I might think is pride. “I figured out you were brave when you came crashing through that window last week.”
Laughing, I pull out a few more things I grabbed to show her about my time in the military. Mostly photographs, but a few more certificates of commendation.
“You were really good at being a SEAL,” she murmurs.
“I like to think so,” I reply.
Once more, I dive back into the folder and pull out a folded-up piece of paper. I give it to her. “This is from my mother.”
Jaime had been about to grab it from me, but she snatches her hand back, cheeks turning pink. “Your mother? She knows about us?”
I nod solemnly. “I had to tell her. Had to tell her that I was in the fight of my life, trying to win you back.”
Pushing the paper toward her, I explain, “She wanted to call you, but I thought it best to wait until we see if we could straighten ourselves out. But she just can’t stay out of things, so she sent me this email and asked me to give it to you.”
Jaime hesitantly takes it from me, unfolds it delicately as if it were a bomb ready to go off. I have to suppress a laugh because once she reads it, she’ll see there’s nothing to fear from my sweet mother.
I watch as her eyes move slowly across the lines, knowing exactly what it says because I read it a few times. It’s basically my mom imploring Jaime to give me another chance. She then goes on and on and on about what a great guy I am. She even tells her a story about how I rescued a trapped kitten in a drainage ditch when I was nine, and says they don’t make men as fine as me.
At the end, she apologizes for my stupidity in lying to her and assures Jaime that’s all it was.
Stupidity.
That I don’t have a deceitful bone in my body, which really goes a little overboard. I mean, my mom is highly biased in my favor, but, in the end, I can tell Jaime is charmed by her words.
She finishes and folds the paper up, placing it on her lap rather than handing it back. I take that as a good sign.
“I have something else,” I say, then pull another piece of paper from the folder. It’s also an email I printed off, and I hesitate before handing it over. “That’s from your mom.”
Jaime’s body jerks in surprise. “My mom?”
It is with no shame whatsoever that I say, “I enlisted your mom to my cause. I told her I was coming to talk to you tonight, and I asked if there was any advice she could give me. She said she’d email me something and well… that’s what it said.”
In Jaime’s hand is her mom’s email to me, asking me for patience and perseverance when it came to pursuing her daughter. But the real reason I want Jaime to read it is that, at the end, she says something I hope Jaime will take to heart.
“I want my daughter to be happy, Cage, and if I didn’t think she could have that with you, I’d be telling her to run in the opposite direction. But I truly believe you’re the one for her, and that you and Jaime will have a long, loving, and beautiful life together. So if she decides to be a knucklehead, please don’t give up. She’s worth fighting for, and I’m sure one day she’s going to look back on this and be glad of her decision to stick with you because you’re worth it just as much.”