Letting the metal door of the conference room closely fully before taking the large envelope out from underneath his jacket, Ed sat down at the table with an expression full of anticipation. The days had been passing by ever so slowly since the bombing, and he had been in constant contact with Hank as they waited for the preliminary results.

Now that those results were finally here in front of him, he couldn't gain the willpower to open the envelope. Even though it wouldn't answer every question that had been presented in the last week and a half, he could at least reassure that their loved ones had died instantly and felt no pain.

With that in mind, Ed ripped the envelope open like he was tearing off a band-aid; it hurt to rip the protective bandage off the wound but it had to happen sooner or later. With a sigh, he scanned the paper from front to back before reading it over a second time, this time catching information like blast caused significant damage to building; recovery of Constable Jimmy Garner.

From what he read in the report, the outcome didn't look good for both Donna or Jimmy. They was significant damage to arms, legs, and face. Of course not all the details were there yet, but it was enough to assume they hadn't suffered from any injuries sustained.

APRIL 10, 2011

It had taken him a matter of five minutes before I saw him walking down the beach. In a matter of minutes, he was sitting by me next to me in the sand as we stared out at the ocean. "Promise that if anything happens to either one of us, that our last words won't be angry ones."

"I promise." Gently squeezing my hand, he scooted in front of me until our knees were touching. "I need you to know that I say a prayer of thanks every time you come home to me, just as much as I dread the day someone tells me you're gone. So yes, I'm going to worry about you, and I'm going to keep worrying about you whether you like it or not."

I didn't have to see the expression on his face to know that he was serious about what he was saying. "I know you will, and I'm sorry for blowing up on you earlier. It's always been hard to talk about my job, but I want you to know that I couldn't have gotten this far without you."

"So talk to me about something else until you can, but never stop talking to me." He persisted, desperation in his eyes. "I don't expect you to tell me every detail of your day—I just want to know that you're okay after you walk back through our door."

"I won't make any promises, but I will try to talk to you when something happens."

"That's all I ask for." His expression changed from worry to relief. "And if there's any way you can make it back to me, I hope you will."

I gave him a nod, finding that last line slightly peculiar." What I don't understand is how you can stay so positive about the shooting and now this vacation."

"I've had worst vacations." He assured me, like it would make me feel better. "Yes, I've been positive. The truth is I haven't wrapped my head around what happened. But you—you were betrayed by someone you trusted and he shot someone you love." As if it had been yesterday, I heard the ringing in my ears as the gun went off; tears sprung to my eyes, as if I were reliving what happened all over again. My breath caught in my throat, to point of not being able breath. "Donna, I need you to come back to me. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere without you, ever again."

With that in mind, I blinked over at him and felt like I could breath normally again-although my mind was still spinning with thoughts and questions with how I'd been so lucky to still have him with me. I could have been accepting his fate before I knew what was happening. Instead, we were in the middle of paradise, trying to piece together the shattered pieces.

Barely aware, he pulled us away from curious eyes until we were in the middle of a street lined with tables full of necklaces, t-shirts and an assortment of other handmade items.

"Hello, can I help you with find a necklace?" The woman behind the table of necklaces had long jet colored hair and eyes the color of diamonds.

"Yes." He looked at each necklace, until he had a white sea shell that was lined with gold and had a heartbeat design in his sights.

"For your wife?"

"Yes."

"'You can go ahead and have her try it on if you'd like." She watched as he put the necklace around my neck. "If I may ask, how long have you two been married?"

"Almost a month." I said, finally snapping out of my anxiety attack since we had left the beach-my fingers feeling the grooves in my shell as it hung around my neck.

"How much?" Hank asked without skipping a beat, as he grabbed some money out of his pocket.

"Hank-"

"Twenty dollars." He handed her the money, then squeezed my hand. "You are a lucky woman."

"Thank you." I mentioned as Hank pulled me over to a more private location.

"I hope you know I didn't buy that necklace just because we're here on vacation. I bought it because I love you. Because when I saw it, I instantly knew that out of all the shells in the ocean, you picked me. You were more than I could have ever hoped for, and if I have to remind you over and over again that I'm not going anywhere, then I will. I love you Donna Gerald. I want you to be happy again."

"I love you too." Suddenly feeling like my energy was drained, I wrapped my hand around his waist for support; and we walked silently back down the beach.

This one is a little short, but after not feeling well on and off for the past couple weeks, and now having to restart my computer after it malfunctioned a couple days ago: this will have to do.