The Risks We Take Duet Box Set

59. Carys

CARYS

I always knew I’ve led a charmed life.

Okay, so my dad’s an asshole who forgot Aiden and I existed after he divorced my mom, but I barely remember him as more than a blip on my radar. I’ve been loved and protected. And while yes, I’ve buried both my grandparents in recent years, they lived until ripe old ages, and both passed in their sleep from natural causes.

This is the first time I’ve ever been to a funeral for someone my age.

Someone young and healthy.

A new husband who would have become a father in just a few weeks, had he gotten the chance to live that long.

And as I sit here, with my arm wrapped around Emerson—who’s had silent tears pouring from her eyes from the moment we got into the limo—I realize just how lucky I am, lupus and all, just to be alive.

Em and Jack’s mom and dad both flew in for the funeral, meeting us at the house this morning before we were all ushered into the waiting vehicles. But it’s my hand Em reached for as she slid across the back seat. “Just us and Jack and Theo,” she whispers.

I lean my head out of the car. “Jack.”

He turns to me, dressed in a crisp black suit, running his hand through his dark hair. He looks tired. We all do. He takes a few steps toward me, and I whisper, “Just you and Theo, okay?”

Jack agrees and says something to his parents before he taps Theo, and the two of them climb into the back with us.

Emerson doesn’t bother wiping away her tears. “Shut the door, please. I don’t want Mom and Dad fighting in front of me today. I already heard her complaining that Dad brought his girlfriend, and I just can’t handle it. Not today.” It’s the most words I’ve heard her speak since I got back to San Diego.

Jack pulls the door shut and rubs Em’s belly. “We got you, Emmie. Whatever you need.”

“I need to not be burying my husband,” she says through a sob and lays her head on Jack’s shoulder. Then she whispers, “But we can’t always have what we need.”

J ack and I walk on either side of Emerson with Theo behind her. We’re a wall of support for her as we guide her toward our seats at the cemetery. Linc wasn’t an overly religious man, so Em opted for a graveside service rather than a big church mass. But when the four of us stand in front of our seats and the grip Em has on my hand tightens, so does the grip Cooper has on my heart.

He’s standing across from me with Rook, Ford, and Jessie. He looks incredible in his uniform, and I have to swallow down my own sob at the excruciating pain of being so close to him and knowing he doesn’t want to be near me.

Is this what it felt like for him when I pushed him away?

Emerson’s parents stand behind us, and Jack nods toward the minister, answering the silent question and letting him know he can begin the ceremony.

A chill wracks my body as a team of Naval personnel remove Linc’s casket from the hearse and follow the military minister to the gravesite. They secure the casket, and an American flag is stretched over the top of it.

The first tears begin stinging the backs of my eyes when the sun catches the bright blues and reds of the flag, and I feel Emerson steel her spine next to me.

Once we’re all seated, she rubs her baby bump and winces, worrying me.

“Are you feeling okay?” I lay my hand over her belly and am immediately kicked by the baby.

Em looks at me with nearly lifeless eyes. “I’m not in labor yet. She’s just shoving her foot into my rib cage.”

I pull my hand away, but she grabs it and lays it back over her bump, linking our fingers together.

Two years ago, we were decorating our dorms and drinking at fraternity parties.

A year ago, we were both falling in love with these men.

Now, we’re burying Linc, and Cooper and I might as well be in two different countries.

The minister goes through the brief service, and Ford gives a beautiful eulogy. Through it all, my eyes continuously stray to Cooper. He never removes his aviators, so I don’t get so much as a glimpse of his eyes. But I feel them on me, as soft as a lover’s touch. He might be mad, but there’s no way this man can hate me. And when the SEALs standing with Bravo team all bang their Trident pins into the casket, leaving Cooper for last, my heart catches in my throat... again.

I refuse to give up on us.

I’ll never give up on him .

It’s as if I lived my entire life in a dull black-and-white movie until he introduced me to the excitement of color. Then I threw it away and stepped back into the gray. But I’m not giving up on us. I screwed up, but I can fix it. I have to believe that.

The minister asks us to stand again, and the riflemen are signaled for the twenty-one-gun salute. With each ringing of the guns, my body jolts, and I strengthen my resolve to fight for what’s mine. And as long as there’s a breath left in my body, that man is mine.