Epilogue

Oakley stood at the entrance to the university library’s conference room with Tanner by her side. All morning he’d paced—tension and apprehension rode him hard. He’d soaked up her support and encouragement, set his back teeth, and made an appearance as he’d promised.

A month ago, she’d posed the idea to both Dr Miller and Tanner to get what remained of Tanner’s former Marine team together, let them see one another again, talk, and work out some of their demons as a group, with Dr Miller there for guidance. Tanner had initially balked, but she’d quickly explained how meeting with Sarah had truly helped, easing her guilt and shining a new light, illuminating facts she’d never seen before. Dr Miller had agreed, leaving the final decision to Tanner and the other surviving members of his team.

After some deliberation, Tanner had agreed, accepting the initiator role of the operation, tossing out names and searching for recent locations and contact information on the computer. He’d torn into the task like a thirsty man lost in the desert who’d stumbled across an oasis. Daily, he’d watched for emails, made phone calls, and pulled his former comrades together with sheer will and persuasion.

Oakley had assisted as much as she could, setting up the meeting time and reserving the room. She’d made sure the small coffee shop area would be open on the Saturday morning, giving the wives and girlfriends a place to hang out, get to know one another, and talk through their own issues while the men spent all the time they wanted together.

Dr Miller had explained that the men should be alone as their conversations would be personal and private. In the best situation, the men would open up about their feelings and issues, something they might not be inclined to do with their significant others around. Men, especially former Marines, liked to keep a strong front, never appearing weak or vulnerable to loved ones. It was just in their genes and attitude. In counseling, they needed to put down that shield and let the festering of unhealed wounds flow out, allowing healing to take place.

Oakley respected the psychologist’s wisdom. After all, he personally understood what those men had been through and had many years of specializing in post-traumatic stress syndrome. If anyone could get through to Tanner or any of the others that needed help, it would be Dr Miller.

Tanner scrubbed his hand through his hair, staring at the closed door. He squeezed Oakley’s hand. “Here goes nothing.”

She smiled up at him, standing on tiptoe to brush her lips across his. “Go play nice with the others.”

He smiled, a promise of retribution sparkling in his brown eyes. Paybacks of a sinful, naughty nature, and she couldn’t wait.

She remained in place until he stepped into the room, letting the door close in his wake before walking down the hall to the informal study area with a small coffee vendor in the center.

A handful of women sat around a large, circular table, sipping coffee. They didn’t have the typical student appearance, making Oakley believe they were linked to Tanner’s comrades. Nervously, she approached, eyeing an empty seat. “Are you ladies here for the get-together with Dr Miller?”

“Yes,” a couple answered. Another nodded.

Oakley smiled. “Hi. I’m Oakley. Loco’s fiancée.”

* * * *

Three hours later, a handful of men filed into the sitting area, heading in their direction. The women glanced up, smiles replacing lines of apprehension and worry.

Tanner led the group, sauntering up to Oakley, pulling her up from her seat and into his embrace. His lips covered hers in a long kiss before putting space between them.

Oakley noticed the others did the same, each man touching and embracing his woman. Wide smiles covered all their faces. For the first time that morning, immense relief flowed over her. It couldn’t be that easy, but from their expressions and behavior, the session had proved beneficial.

A shorter but stout blond man spoke up. “Damn. Leave these women alone for a few hours together and what do you know? They’ve been plotting.”

Oakley chuckled. He was right. The women had begun talking about their men and their inherent worry about deeply buried issues that only a counselor could address. After declaring they knew the best course of action for their men, they’d quickly scheduled another meeting time, promising to drag the men along, kicking and screaming if need be. From the shared looks among the men, she interpreted most wouldn’t need to be dragged. Instead, they would eagerly agree to the women’s plans.

Tanner quickly did the introductions, gesturing to each man as he went. In turn, the men pointed out their loved one next to their side. In all, five couples attended, along with two single men.

Another two men had bowed out, but Oakley held high hopes they would change their minds in the near future.

After a while longer, the group began to dissipate, each going their own way but promising to keep in touch.

Oakley leaned against Tanner’s side as he watched them go, his arm solid around her waist. “So, how’d it go?”

He peered down at her, a smile on his face. “Tough, hard, nauseating, frustrating, and a pain in the ass.”

She shook her head. “Tell me how you really feel.”

A chuckle escaped from his throat. “You were right about the Wizard.”

“The Wizard?” She tilted her head in confusion.

“Dr Miller. That’s the name for a counselor in the Marines.”

“Oh. I see. Now what was I right about?”

They began walking toward the exit, arms wrapped around one another.

Tanner released a long sigh. “He pointed out some things to me… Us. The guys… None of them blamed me.” His breathless words matched the disbelief written on his face. “They feel the guilt, just like I do. I never thought—”

“That someone else might be walking in your same shoes?” Oakley finished for him.

“Yeah. I thought it was just me.”

She hugged him with the one arm. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Doc gave us some things to think about. Even assigned us homework.” He pouted like a kid not allowed to eat all his Halloween candy the first night.

“Didn’t I mention he was a slave driver?” Oakley teased, her heart light and filled with joy at the outcome of the first workshop.

“Yeah.” He opened the door, ushering her before him into the summer heat.

Oakley paused to wait for him. “If you get your homework done, then you can have some playtime.” She fluttered her lashes coyly at him.

He laughed, patting her rear. “Now that’s a damn good motivator.”

They walked a few more feet. “Ready to meet my mother?”

She bit her lower lip. “I just hope she likes me.”

Tanner smiled down at her. “She will. I love you and that’s enough in her book.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed.

Oakley sighed, fingering the engagement ring on her left hand. Tanner had proposed two days earlier, romantically bending to one knee right in her living room. The event stuck in her mind for what it meant, as well as for what had happened during. Poor Tanner tried his darnedest to say all the right words. Hercules thought it was a new game, bounding over to knock Tanner flat on his back, sitting on top of him with a proud, open-mouthed doggie smile on his face, like he’d done a great deed—king of the hill, so to speak. Tanner grumbled while Oakley cracked up. When Tanner finally managed to push the dog off and sit up, Oakley threw herself into his arms, accepting with exuberance.

Two months ago she’d never believed a man would enter her life—a man she could trust and learn to love, accepting her past with her as a total package. Now, she walked to the car with Tanner, her fiancé, her love, and a hero to boot. Happiness didn’t begin to describe how she felt with him by her side. Together, they lived each day to the fullest, reveled in their love, and strove to pull his former team together, helping them all deal with the past and excise those demons once and for all.

She had no doubts they would succeed, as some fairy tales do come to life—happy endings and all.