BROKEN COURAGE (Broken Redemption Book 3)

Chapter 54

Lucas

Grateful I've yet to move my things downstairs, I run to my dresser, feeling around the bottom of the old drawer until I find what I'm looking for. Within seconds, I'm back at her side of the bed. Dropping to one knee in front of her, I watch the realization dawn on her face.

Her gasp fills the silence as she lifts a trembling hand to cover her mouth. When her eyes meet mine, they're wide, shimmering, overflowing with emotion, and that's when it hits me.

This is it.

Every dream I've ever had, every night I spent aching for her, every loss, and every broken path—it all led me here. To her. To this.

"Embree, I bought this ring a little over a year ago. On July 3rd, the day I'd decided would be my last." I know the second she processes my words, it comes through in how her breath catches in her throat as sadness darkens her eyes. It guts me. I hate that I'm putting her through this, hate that my pain is now hers, but she has to know. She has to understand what she means to me. How loving her saved my life in ways no one else could.

"It was the day before the 4th of July, and I was tired, Emb." My voice drops, thick with the weight of that memory, my heart aching as I see the concern wash over her face. I don't want to put her through this, but I need her to understand just how dark things were before my love for her pulled me back into the light. "The blinding migraines from my brain injury... God, they were relentless. They'd been pounding in my skull for months, draining every ounce of strength I had left. But the worst part—the part that broke me—was what my mind started doing to me."

I feel my throat tighten, the words clawing their way out, even though every part of me wants to shield her from the truth. "The nightmares, the flashbacks... it was like I was back to living in a war zone, even though I was out. My brain kept telling me that at any moment, the enemy would find me, track me down, and finish the job. I'd wake up drenched in sweat, so sure they were right outside my window, ready to pull the trigger. And there were days—too many days—where I almost wanted them to. Where I'd walk toward the danger, hoping they would just end it and finally put me out of my misery."

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and it takes everything in me not to stop, to hold her and tell her it's all okay now. But if I do, I know I'll chicken out.

"Everything in that city triggered something in me—every noise, every shadow. It was like my mind was replaying the worst moments of my time in theatre, over and over, haunting me no matter where I went. I couldn't escape it. So that day, I woke up, and I decided I was done. I was going to end it myself." I swallow hard, feeling the rawness of that decision creeping back into my chest. "I didn't care about anything anymore. I just wanted peace. I just wanted the pain to stop."

Looking back on that day is still so fucking hard. By nature, I am wired to never give up. That stubborn tenacity, the refusal to quit—it's what served as the foundation that got me through SEAL training, what kept me going on missions when things got bad. But on that day, I was sitting there, staring at my gun, and for the first time in my life, I felt like giving up was the right choice.

"The thing about depression is that it makes giving up feel like a release. A relief. For me, it meant freedom. It meant peace. No more pain. No more ghosts following me around every corner. It felt like escape—from all the shit that was haunting me, from the nightmares, the migraines, the constant fear. I sat there thinking, 'Maybe this is the way out. Maybe this is what I need.'"

I watch her face, the sadness creeping in, and it kills me. But to know how far I've come, she needs to see how far I have fallen.

"I chose that day because I knew the next day's sky would be full of fireworks." My voice catches, the memory suffocating me for a moment. "Fireworks... sounds innocent, right? But not for me. I knew what would happen. My mind would twist those bursts of light and sound until they pulled me back into that hell—war, death, all the things I'd been running from." I glance at her, seeing the concern in her eyes but knowing it's okay because everything worked out in the end.