It was the week after she'd turned eighteen.

She'd been wearing this pink number with glittery rhinestones covering nearly the whole dress.

I remembered looking at her under the harsh lights at the ball, seeing how fucking beautiful she was, seeing the lights sparkle off of her.

She had the attention of quite a few men that day, and she hadn't even realized it. She only had eyes for me.

Beautiful, brown eyes that were so trusting and honest.

Eyes that were now looking at me with tears in them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

My brow rose.

"Sorry for what?" I asked.

Her lips thinned.

"For not taking care of Blitz..." I stopped her by pressing my mouth to hers.

"You took care of him. I know you did," I said. "I kept up with you. My aunt said you made your bi-yearly appointments. You were always up to date on shots. You took him to the groomers, even though that type of breed didn't usually get groomed."

She buried her nose in my chest.

"I kept tabs on you through your father," she admitted.

I knew she had.

I'd been the one to tell my dad it was okay.

"I know," I said. "He called and asked if it was alright that he gave you that information."

She shivered, and I tightened my arms on her shoulders.

I leaned down and pressed my lips against the top of her head, breathing in the wild berry scent of her hair.

She hadn't changed it in all this time.

That smell haunted my dreams for long, long years.

"He told me that you were interested in re-upping, but you came home," she said.

I nodded. "I almost did."

She frowned, and that cute little indentation that meant that she was thinking appeared between her brows.

"Well then, why didn't you?" She asked quietly.

I stayed silent for a few long minutes, and she finally leaned back in my arms to look at my eyes.

"Well?" She poked me.

I debated whether to show her.

But then I berated myself.

If my brother had sent Masen something from beyond the grave as her sister had, then I'd sure as fuck want to read it.

And I wasn't going to keep that from her...not to mention that it was best to start fresh if we had any chance of working.

Slowly I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and fished the letter out.

It'd been written on wide ruled paper and the writing was shaky at best.

I'd become somewhat of an expert at reading poor writing, however, seeing as I'd spent quite a bit of time overseas. Any orders we were gotten were written in haste if they were written down at all.

So it'd been easy for me to ascertain the words written in Daniela's hand.

Handing the folded paper over, I waited while she opened and scanned the contents of the paper.

A squeak passed between Masen's lips as she read what her sister had to say to me, her hand raising to her lips as she stared in awe at the words.

I guessed it'd been sent by Masen's parents, but I hadn't had the chance to ask them yet.

I'd practically memorized every word on the page, and I watched as the words were read by Masen.

If you're reading this, it means that you still haven't forgiven my sister.

She's emotional and reacts before she thinks. You know this. I know this. My parents know this. Hell, everyone in the free world will know this at some point in their life if they ever cross paths with my sister.

But she didn't mean it.

She loves you with all her heart and soul.

I hate that I'm the reason for your breakup, and I promised myself I would stay out of it.

However, I know how stubborn and mule-headed my sister is.

I know for a fact that she'll never beg you. Never apologize if you blow her off the first time.

Hence why I'm writing this letter.

I've instructed the person delivering it to not send it to you until ten years have passed.

I hope that y'all don't let it go on that long.

The love that y'all share is unique. It's a one of a kind love that not many people ever experience in their lifetimes.

One that I'll never experience.

And if you have the choice of forgiveness, then do it.

If not for you, then her.

She loves you with her whole heart and soul, and she deserves you, just as you deserve her.

Please take care of her, and let her know that I love her, too.

With love, Daniela.

And for the third time that day, Masen cried.

This time, she didn't want me to hold her, though.

Which I found out when I went to pull her back into my arms.

When she pulled away from me and wiped at her eyes, she looked devastated.

"You only came back to me because of this?" She asked accusingly.

I knew instantly where her mind had gone.

"No," I said. "I came back to you because I wanted to. I didn't reenlist because of that," I indicated the piece of paper that was now clutched between bloodless fingers.

She pursed her lips, and I could see her mind gearing up to yell out something that she probably didn't mean.

That was who Masen was.

Exactly like her sister had described.

React first, think second.

"Listen," I said, pulling her up by the backs of her arms.

She came reluctantly, glaring at me as she did.

"What?" She hissed.

"I fucking love you, okay?" I said. "I've loved you for so long that I don't even know how to love someone else. When I married Emily, I felt like I cheated on you, even though we weren't technically even together," I continued. "You're the executor of my will. You're the beneficiary for all of my stuff. If I die, you'll be the first one they call. Trust me, you're it for me and always have been."

Her mouth dropped open.

"Why do you have a will?" She inquired a tad shrilly.

"Every soldier going on deployment is urged to file a will and testament along with a few other things with an attorney in case of the worst," I said.

Her eyes opened wide.

"It's like they're admitting that you may die!" She cried.

"It's a very real possibility that every soldier faces," I said. "Each and every soldier deployed might not come back. That's just a fact of life. It happens and can happen to anyone."

She shook her head.

"That's fucked up," she said. "How come you didn't tell me that you put me on all of that? Since, apparently, you had it even before you left."

"I did have it before I left," I said. "But I didn't really want you thinking about how bad it could be. The possibility of me not coming home is not what I wanted you to focus on."

She crossed her arms over her chest.

"This sucks," she said.

I nodded. "It did."

"What about your job now? There's not a requirement to have a will for that, is there?" She pouted.

I sat down onto the couch and pulled her into my side.

She fell with a soft plop and placed her head down on my chest.

My heart pounded slow and steady as I spoke.

"My job now is different, but still dangerous," I said. "There's always the possibility that I'll die while on a scene. But it's definitely something you need to be aware of. A firefighter isn't the easiest or safest job in the world."

She sighed.

"I liked it better when I didn't know," she said. "It's easier to feign ignorance that way."

I snorted.

"So who do you think sent you the letter, my mom or my dad?" She asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But I planned on asking, unless you don't want me to."

"Oh, I want to know. I can't believe they did that." She gestured to the piece of paper that'd fallen onto the floor where she'd been standing when I'd pulled her into me.

"Well we can ask them tomorrow," I said.

"Tomorrow?" Her brows rose.

I nodded. "You said you had dinner with them, correct?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but I didn't think you'd want to come."

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked.

She shrugged and rolled her head up to look at me.