I haven't breathed properly in four years. The bullet that ripped my girlfriend away from me in Iraq, ripped a May shaped hole in my heart that I don't want to fill. The only time my lungs fully remember how to do something as simple as breathing air is when I'm with a woman who can never be mine. In a relationship? I'll take it. Engaged? Yes please. Married? Hell yeah.
Then I met her. The blonde with the boyfriend who's involved with everything I hate. I don't know if she knows what he's into, all I know is that my pants aren't the only thing that tighten when I'm around her. And now history is trying to repeat itself and I'm letting it happen over my dead body.
My life is comfortable. My boyfriend is seriously good-looking and my best friend is fun, supportive and always up for having a good time. I'm content, until I'm not.
My perfectly constructed life comes crashing down around me and it's a mysterious, super hunky ex- SEAL who's suddenly at the right place at the right time. Every time.
But when choices I didn't make impact my life in ways I never thought possible, I'm alone. Screwed. Terrified.
When everything is on the line and your life is on the wrong side of the plumbing system, what do you do?
I don't know...
I don't know because this wasn't my mess to clean up. I like to think I'm an optimist, but how is it possible that anything good can come of this?