Story 4

I thought I knew what heartbreak meant and the desperate feeling that came with it. As hard as it was to admit that we'd never make it work, I held onto the belief that we'd find each other again. I just didn't expect it to happen six months after we split and on Christmas Eve of all days.

We married in a hasty wedding on mom and Frank's back deck. Honeymooned on Frank's sailboat, The Lady Patricia and before I knew it, my orders to London had changed. I was needed on a carrier, used to instruct pilots on the planes the CIA had forced me to fly.

I would be stationed in San Diego, home to my wife and parents. Life was good until Mac was offered a position back in Washington as the Marie liaison. That's when the distance began to spread more than I imagined.

Mac hated that I was eager to join a squadron. I despised that she would rather live on the opposite coast than my home port. We tried for one year but the time apart felt so infinite that it destroyed us. Funny how easy it is to wreck something good when you don't put effort into it.

I first saw her at The Hay-Adams, one of those historic hotels that are too pretentious for my taste but offers a killer view of the White House. The SECNAV was hosting a ritzy Christmas gala and the invitees were politicians and military officers from both the Navy and Marines.

I was there to perform the simple public service, to bring the Secretary's niece as my date. Recently divorced, Amanda Cleary was as beautiful as she was nuts. She spoke so loud that wondered if she was deaf and had left her ear piece back home. The woman hit on anything with a pulse, was drunk within the first hour, passed out before the second and was eventually whisked away to parts unknown by the Secretary's security detail.

That left me time to wander the gala sans date with a glass of bourbon in hand. I was working up the courage to ask a leggy blond to dance when a sparkly, midnight blue dress wrapped around a body I'd never forget, twirled on the dance floor. Mac.

Her hair was short again, tastefully styled so that her neck was visible. As cute as she looked with long hair, I prefered the short and sassy style. The dress was long, hugged her curves and sparkled like diamonds whenever she moved.

She was more beautiful than I remembered, so radiant that I felt every jealous bone in my body hone into the man Mac danced with. To me it was like a beacon, a spotlight that led me to her. But she wasn't mine any more, not when the man she danced with looked at her like a man in love.

I knew him, of course. Everyone knew Jake Andrews, the young congressman who was making waves across Washington. The Post had even run a spread on anointing him as DC's most eligible bachelor. Annoyingly, a ride in an F-18 had me on a first name basis with him and I couldn't find a single discernible fault.

He was perfect for her and for the first time in my life I realized how inadequate I was. This Chrisrmas was not turning out how I planned.

I poured the remainder of my drink into the nearest tree, dumped the glass on the nearest table and ignored the feeling of being watched as I disappeared into the chilly night.

I couldn't do it again. I couldn't watch her be happy with another man. Seeing Mac with Webb and Mic had nearly been the death of me. But, after knowing her intimately, the stakes are much higher.

My rental cuts through the light dusting of snow and I'm eager to see my father. It had been years since I'd paid the Wall a visit and although I'd lit a candle in his memory, it wasn't the same.

The Wall is absolutely ethereal in the falling snow. Glowing lights in the ground illuminate the names much as they serve as a pathway for loved ones. I've been here so many times there's no need to locate his name or count each panel.

There is no one in my usual spot and I'm grateful for the snowy weather that gifted me this time alone. As usual, I hesitate to touch his name because the feel of each letter beneath my fingertips makes it too real. I'm reminded of my mother, of the woman he loved in Russia and the son he never knew. Most of all, I grieve for myself and say a prayer for him and the other lost souls.

My visit always leaves me bereft which was why I didn't initially see the woman standing near me until I was halfway to my car. "Harm?"

"Mac?"

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" A long coat covers the dress and I know her well enough that the arms folded across her chest were more a sign of defense than to stave off the cold.

"I'd ask you the same."

She grins and cocks her head to the side, as if I said the dumbest thing. "I live here, you don't."

"Maybe I moved back?"

"Maybe but, I know you haven't." I hate this. I hate the tension. I hate that we can't stop our skid. We had a year of happiness. At least, I was happy. Come to think about it, I never asked Mac how she felt about everything. "Walk with me?"

I don't want to but for once I set my bruised ego aside and try not to be that petulant ass I often am. "Yeah, okay."

It's a silent stroll to the Lincoln Memorial, a walk we've taken so much in the past that I'm reminded of better times. "I saw you walk in with Amanda Cleary. I assume the SECNAV set you up?"

"Set up is right." I snort. "She's a mess and I don't think her recent divorce is the issue. The woman is certifiable."

"That's what I've heard too." Mac smiles. We walk a bit more and then a hand on my forearm stops our trajectory. "Speaking of divorce, you never signed the papers."

"I've been busy."

That's a total lie, of course. I know what's on them and I know it takes a few seconds to scribble my signature and absolve me of all my mistakes. I just don't want to. "I haven't signed either."

I stay rooted in place and Mac keeps walking without me. The documents were mailed and I never had the heart to flip past the first page or notice that she hadn't signed. "Mac, wait."

She doesn't; she just keeps walking and is far enough away that I need to lightly jog to catch up. My band wraps around her bicep and I force her to stop. She won't look at me so I raise her head up. "Why haven't you signed?"

"I don't want to. I don't want to divorce you."

Oh God. I was the first to suggest it. She seemed so upset and I knew - I thought I knew that a break up would set her free to find someone who could love her like she wanted. I didn't anticipate the papers to show up one day. "I don't want a divorce either."

"It was your idea." She points out and her comment upsets me.

"You didn't fight me on it."

Mac sighs heavily. "That's our biggest problem, isn't it? We don't fight when we should and then it's too late."

Her words cut through me and given the man she was with this evening, I can't help but wonder if Mac is ready to move on. "So, you and Jake? How serious is it?"

Her head snaps up like I've asked the most absurd question. Mac's brow furls and I don't expect the sudden fit of laughter. "Oh, Harm."

"I don't see what's so funny. The guy was plastered all over you like a cheap suit. You couldn't be more obvious."

She keeps laughing and my irritation climbs a bit more. "Yeah well, that was the point. Jake's gay. I met him in law school, we dated once and then I realized why things never progressed."

"Oh. And you were. Oh." Okay, now I feel like an idiot but given how he touched her as they danced gave little indication that he batted for the same team. "That's a relief. I thought you moved on."

"No. There hasn't been anyone since you."

The falling snow makes her look like an angel. Flakes have gathered on her hair and by the light of the monument, Mac is the most stunning woman I've ever seen. My wife. She's still my wife and that sends a thrill through me that makes me lean down and kiss her.

Mac doesn't pull away like I expected. Her arms snake around my waist as her mouth opens for mine. It's a loving kiss that quickly grows passionate and reminds me of all other kisses which lead to other fun activities.

"I want you for Christmas." I tell her but her face falls and her expression is a sad one. Maybe I misunderstood something but I thought that, for once, the stars aligned in our favor. "What's wrong?"

"Just for Christmas? Not New Years or Valentine's or Easter?" Her hands drop away from me and Mac takes two steps back. The separation makes me realize how cold it is. "I live here and will likely be here for the rest of my career. You're stationed in California."

"Not any more." I explained that my work with the squadron concluded a month ago and that a position in the Pentagon had opened up. It was mostly classified work and definitely not mundane. "Most of my stuff is stuck in storage until I find a place."

"I have a two bedroom townhouse in Alexandria." She steps close to me and her arms snake around my waist again. "Make my Christmas wish come true. Come home."

"I will." My lips find hers again and she sighs as my arms pull her so close there is barely any space between us. "Merry Christmas, Mac."

"Merry Christmas, Harm."