Chapter 10 - The Horizon
One year later.
The afternoon air was warm and sweet with the smell of blooming clover and fresh sea salt.
The gym on 4th Street had been completely rebuilt. The front facade was painted in crisp white and bright blue, featuring a new hand-carved wooden sign above the entrance: TESSA MERCER COMMUNITY ATHLETIC CENTER.
Inside, forty young women and teenagers were practicing basic defensive footwork under the guidance of Mason Wolfe.
After completing six months of community service as part of his plea bargain, Mason had renounced his family's wealth, taken a full-time job as the gym's administrative manager, and spent every weekend helping local youth programs. He looked healthier, stronger, and his hands no longer trembled when he spoke.
Out on the rear courtyard overlooking the harbor, Tessa stood on the wooden deck, wearing a white martial arts uniform with a master's black belt tied neatly around her waist.
Her movement was fluid, graceful, and powerful. There was no trace of hesitation in her shoulders, no limp in her stride. The thirty-one fractures had healed, leaving her bones stronger than they had ever been before.
I sat on the wooden bench nearby, dressed in plain civilian clothes, holding a pair of heavy leather focus pads on my hands.
"Ready, Sergeant?" Tessa asked, her brown eyes sparkling with bright, joyful energy.
"Born ready, ma'am," I smiled.
Tessa stepped forward, striking the pads with three rapid, flawless strikes—SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!—the crisp sound echoing across the sunny harbor yard.
She stopped, resting her hands on her hips, her forehead glistening with a light sheen of sweat, laughing out loud as I shook my hands out from the force of her strikes.
"Not bad for a woman who was supposed to be in a wheelchair, huh?" she teased.
I set the pads down on the bench, walked over to her, and wrapped my arms securely around her waist, pulling her close against my chest.
"You were never going to be in a wheelchair, Tessa," I said, kissing her nose. "You're the toughest person I know."
She rested her head against my shoulder, looking out at the calm blue water of the bay where cargo ships moved peacefully toward the horizon.
"What happens now, Jack?" she asked softly. "Your military contract expires next month. You don't have to go back overseas."
May you like
I looked down at her face, feeling the steady, strong beat of her heart against mine.
"Now," I whispered, holding her hand tightly in the warm sunlight, "we live."
