Page 117 of Take Hold of Me

“I was tough on you because you’re my boy. My son. Every Marine dreams of his son following in his footsteps. But you always did what you wanted. Must have gotten that from your mother.”

He chuckles, which turns into a wheeze. I scramble to pour him a cup of water, dunk a straw inside and hold it out. “Here you go, Dad,” I pause. “Take is slow.”

After he takes a few sips, he returns the plastic cup to my hand and I put it down on the tray.

“Instead of you, Addie went into the Marines. I was proud of her, of course. She represented.”

His words lack their usual vindictiveness. More of a statement of fact than a recrimination. I’m at a loss of how to handle this new, softer side of the man. My father. “And she paid the ultimate price.”

“Yes, she did.”

“If I had gone in, she would be here today.”

“You don’t know that. We can never know that. You could’ve been killed in battle too, and I would have lost both of my children.” He swallows and looks away but not before a sheen of wetness coats his eyes. “I barely survived losing my baby girl. If I’d lost you as well, I wouldn’t have outlived my grief.”

“Dad.”

On an exhale, he says, “You’re a good man, William.” Then his eyes close and he drifts off to sleep.

After droppingmom off at home, I drive aimlessly through the streets of LA and end up at Complete. I slip into the classroom style room and shut the door. I let the silence overtake my body. All the noise from the gym area disappears as I quiet my mind.

Dad’s words resound in my brain. “You’re a good man, William.” For once, my stomach doesn’t clench at his use of my full name. He said he was proud of me. Proud.

I’ve waited my whole life to hear him say that. It only took a heart attack to bring the words out.

“You can’t save everyone, son.”

Instead of Three or Roberto or Jared, visions of Emilie come to my mind. Her being manhandled by Wade Block.

I wasn’t there to prevent him from getting to her. She did use her self-defense training to stun him, though. And I did protect her in the end. I saved her.

My eyes land on the photo from the Caymans. That was a magical time. She made me feel connected to her. Like I could make a positive impact on her life rather than ruin it. I haven’t laughed so much as I did when I was with her. And when her fingers touched my body, I felt ten feet tall and at her mercy, all at once.

All of a sudden, it hits me that I’ve been decorating this room for her. The blue on the walls reminds me of the importance of the ocean to us. When she drove us to the beach to get sand for McKenna. In Rio and the Caymans.

As my gaze travels around the room, more little touches I subconsciously included here surface. A starfish doorstop. An angel bookend.

My breathing becomes ragged. It’s been over a month since I saw her. More than thirty days since I held her. Forever since I slept with her in my arms.

I miss her.

I love her.

I just hope it’s not too late.

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