Page 176 of Mission Shift

She was the strongest person I’d ever known—fierce in every sense but still capable of softness when it mattered. Every day, another layer of her was peeled back, revealing something new that knocked me sideways. I was amazed not just by the way she’d survived hell, but how she refused to let it define her.

After hearing about Angel and Conan’s baby, my mind kept drifting. I started thinking about whatourchild might be like someday—if we were ever lucky enough to have one. Would they have Daria’s fire? Her impossible resilience? Those eyes that saw through bullshit like glass? Or maybe they’d be quieter, stubborn like me. The idea of building a future with her—something lasting—hit me harder than I’d expected. I wanted to be a good husband. A good dad, someday. But, having grown up without good parents, I wasn’t sure I knew what that looked like. That left me guessing. And deep down, that terrified me.

For a few minutes longer, I watched Daria sleep, memorizing the way her features relaxed when the nightmares didn’t reach her. On the yacht, there had been nights when she had sat straight up in a panic—gasping, heart racing, reaching for the knife under her pillow that wasn’t there, before I could soothe her back to a more comfortable sleep. It worried me to think about her not having me there to ensure her safety.

On other nights, when she didn’t practically fly out of bed, her body would tense and her hands would clench into fists. I’d hold her, whisper something soft, and she’d eventually settle. Last night had been one of the calmer ones. But I could still seeit in her. Whatever she’d seen, whatever she’d survived, it was buried deep but always there, always humming just beneath the surface.

When I asked her about it, she would say she was fine, said that being with me—starting over—was enough. Maybe she was right. Perhaps love, safety, and sunlight were enough to quiet the ache those scars left behind. But I also knew that trauma didn’t vanish just because you moved to a new continent.

She shifted against me, stretching a little before her eyes opened.

“Morning,” I said, brushing a strand of her hair back and kissing her forehead.

She blinked slowly, then tucked herself closer to me. “Is it already time?”

“Almost.” I smiled. “Atticus and I are heading to the airport to grab Nik, and then we’re meeting up with the rest of the guys at Conan’s to get ready.”

She hummed. “That’s right, and I’ll be spending the day with the girls. I can’t wait to attend an American wedding. It’s all so romantic.”

“It’s great that you, Sam, and Angel have hit it off so well and that you get to be here for this special day.”

Daria pulled back just enough to smile at me. “They’re great. I like them both. They’re not fake. They’ve been through hell too. It’s easier being around women who get it.”

“I figured you’d say that.” I rubbed her arm gently. “Will you be all right without me for a few hours?”

“I survived a Russian prison and Yakov Malinov. I think I can handle a bridal party.”

I laughed. “Fair enough. Just a heads-up—Bethany will be there too.”

“Bethany. That’s the maid of honor, right?”

“Yes. She’s one of Sam’s coworkers. Loud, no filter, cusses like a sailor, and probably drinks more coffee than anyone I’ve ever met. Great nurse, great person. But…she’s a lot.”

Daria smirked. “I’d rather deal with someone who’s loud and blunt than someone who plays nice and hides a knife behind their back.”

“See? I knew you’d fit into life in Tacoma just fine.”

I leaned down and kissed her, slow and soft, then pressed my forehead against hers.

“I still can’t believe I get to callyoumy wife.”

She ran her fingers down my chest. “You say that like you won the lottery.”

“I did.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away.

For a few more minutes, Daria lay with her head on my chest, brushing her fingers along my ribs in slow, gentle lines. I could’ve stayed there all morning with her nestled against me, her breath steady, her body calm.

“This wedding’s going to be so beautiful,” she murmured. “Samantha told me they kept it small so they could make it everything they wanted. It’s just you and Conan standing with Atticus. Angel and Bethany for her.”

“She worked hard to make it perfect,” I said, running my fingers through her hair. “They chose the Point Defiance Pagoda because it would work rain or shine, but Sam, of course, was hoping for sun. Looks like she got her wish. It’s supposed to be clear all day.”

“I’m glad,” Daria said. “She told me she wanted the ceremony outside. With the water behind them, the fall leaves, and lots of fresh flowers—it’s going to be stunning.”

I smiled at the image. “With that red hair of hers, she’ll look like fire against all the green and gold.”

Daria propped herself up on one elbow. “Did you know they picked today because it marks one year since their first date?”

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