"Saudade"

By chance I ran into a friend of hers several weeks back. As we spoke, it became abundantly clear to me that I had understated her circumstance (in my mind) to that of the minor ilk.

I hadn't (previously) known the motivation to intervene.

In speaking with her personally she hadn't revealed anything truly alarming to myself- I suppose minimizing the pain for my benefit?

She was like that you know?

Consistently energetic, known for verbosity yet intensely private and elusive.

Life's definition had been ripped from her heart leaving her feeling displaced and irrevocably harmed, defenseless.

She, like myself had lived as pirates...free and unconventionally.

It tugged at me...I wanted to help, chalked it up to poor timing, scheduling conflicts...

Not for lack of compassion.

I keenly understood what despair could do to a person- I had suffered with similarity in my own situation.

We didn't hold a transitory relationship; I believed her and I to be solid, we loved one another.

Never, not for a second, did I ever imagine that I'd be wearing my best black suit to see her again other than for a black tie event...

Yet this was just like her wasn't it?

Full of surprise, the unexpected came onto anyone within the vicinity of her person...made her laugh to think of it.

She was loyal to a fault, she was unconditional love in its purist sense.

In retrospect we all have our breaking point, hers simply came quietly in the night...

I thought

I thought that she could 'muddle' through...

This I recalled as I reached down to take hold of her hand...one last time.

She spoke of her desire to return home quite often, yet had nowhere to go; figuring that a backpack and a smile and she'd find it someday.

Off handily she'd speak of a song resonating, drenching shattered dreams to distraction.

Long ago she'd ceased mention of the nightmares.

She held doubt that in the sharing of the terror "held any merit, serving no purpose" she'd remark, drop the subject for discussion of the obscure.

Everyone wanted her to fight mightily, as she was prone to do...

The detractors, those who held unyielding adoration were all left unsettled by her lack of conviction.

But I had known.

One text received "I need help" had arrived.

In retrospect she had mentioned feeling lost, hurting.

It's what she no longer spoke of that should've had us all collectively disturbed.

The future.

Come to think of it, the generosity of speech had steadily declined.

Providence, Prevenient Grace; ideals that all waylaid just beyond the grasp of her capture...

She used to state that to have her dreams would be to live the nightmare...

This she could achieve with internal strength, not broken.

No one counts on being broken when their life's terror suddenly becomes a reality...

I didn't give a damn when the tears came to me, rushing freely past all of the emotional barriers that I held up to the world, I simply wanted to wake her...

Have a righteous dispute over her causing me this never ending grief, knowing full well that any argument with her would've been a day completely spent fighting for a word in edge wise.

I should've known better...

I did know...just didn't accept it.

She couldn't save herself, refused to quit. Resigned to death by his hands.

At that moment I hated her for allowing it.

I could not comprehend, despised her for the fragility.

She was a grown, mature woman with a child's heart who desperately required a father figure for the remainder of her life.

There could be no partnership, that ship had sailed far too often in her mind...

I visit the site often, mostly alone with my anger, fury over the mindless loss.

I allowed my life to supersede that of hers, someone that I truly loved.

"I could have stopped, prevented this" words that scream from the cold, unyielding dirt.

She wouldn't have afforded but a select few to take hold and seize her life, claim her heart and shield her from the world...

But regrettably I knew that I was one of these individuals.

Rare.

I had access, I certainly held the latitude with the propensity to alter the outcome...

The bias lie in my firm belief that I lived a life of content.

Merely content.

I had nothing to lose, everything to gain.

I was well aware of who she was, what she meant to this world- specifically her place in it.

She never had the choice

because I never offered a viable solution.

I miss her.

I believe that I always will...

============================================================

Death has a profound effect on us all, inparticularly when one passes during the holidays.

May you keep your friends in your heart, close in spirit and with the knowledge that you love them to carry them through...

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Mors ultima linea rerum est (death is everythings final limit)

The first book that I signed and eagerly handed away to was Bob. Bobby to some friends, so I have heard. I didn't have the pleasure of knowing him for very long, he was running out of time...

I listened alot, watched him with others. He was unique, a marvel in this sometimes bleak world of ours.

Bob made you laugh.

His past was chalk full of color.

Derived from any subject arose a hell of a story, as a writer I sat back and often thought "wow" how lucky am I to be hearing this?

Bob wasn't simply loved. He was adored, and I remark openly that there is a vast difference between the two.

Cantankerous he surely was, though even in this he amused and delighted with his wit.

My son believed him to be Bob Segar because he rode a motorcycle and held himself with such a demeanor as one would feel that larger than life presence- even to a 5 year old.

This made him laugh.

His best friend shared many stories of him and watching the two together was a wonder...

The sentences that didn't quite complete themselves before the laughter ensued.

The depth of caring that only the very best of friends know...

His wife counted everyday as a blessing and openly said so- to which he'd reply "yeah, me too" except his eyes danced when he said it, and he meant it.

He loved her with more than promise, with a true, open heart.

He pseudo daughter who lives next door would visit with him as time allowed- always making the time.

Funny thing about Bob.

He held full comprehension of time- its demise to friendships, family and the heart.

So he rushed towards the embrace of it all.

The call came in around 5 am.

You know the call that no one ever wants to hold to their ear

"It's Bob"

I watched as one by one family and friends raced against the clock to be there for Bob.

That rapidly turned into a rush to be there to say goodbye.

His daughter in law though devastated held his hand, warmed him- as he detested being cold. She raised his spirit and of those in the room by her words of conversation to him.

Bob would've smiled.

Probably laughed.

Bobs sister was angry. Life was leaving her beloved brother, and the unfairness of it all brought anger to the surface. She wanted to fight for him, just wake him up from the stasis. How dare he leave us all.

I understood.

I would've fought for a love like that as well we all would.

Bob would've been proud.

Bobs brother and cousin stoically held everyone up and connected with the gatherers.

They loved this man and between the tears and pain

laughed at the past revels.

Who else would laugh with you as you found your peace?

Only brothers, only shared hearts.

His sons were amazing.

They provided their step mother with respect, dignity

and their father?

A most brilliant release.

Their love was evident in the sorrow,

honest in their grief

and the depth of love which would be carried on through they two

Witnessing this

you just knew that Bobs heart wasn't going anywhere.

When the love of his life said her goodbyes

through the door the guttural sobbing took us all to that place where no one, and I mean no one ever desires to go to.

Love is funny that way

bringing us life one moment

than killing us in the next.

Bob lived his life to the fullest

he loved. No I mean it. HE LOVED.

We all looked on as the nurse proclaimed that he was gone.

I don't believe that anyone who knew him bought into that.

How could they?

Sure, his body had been relinquished to death

but his heart?

No way.

Hell no.

If anyone could get out of this one, surely it was this man.

He didn't believe in heaven per say, but what he did believe in was the here and now.

Here, he made a better place

Now, a saddened one.

But tomorrow?

I'm fairly certain that we'll all see him revel,

live on through everyone that he touched throughout his life, and of those there were many.

As we all began to leave the room, the consensus was unanimous.

We were all lucky, in different measure.

Some had years

some a few weeks

some a lifetime

but wasn't grand?

Wasn't it a grand life Bob?

Opus Dei

(The work of God)

Blessed are we to have shared your last breath.

from my hand to yours,

deeply saddened,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Dimitte Praeterita

Transitional life isn't for me...

I saw you long before you knelt

proclaiming the stay;

the way of it all

I stood corrected

stunned at the revelation

of you

To those in your extensive past

you were better served as a vague memory

To me

the strength provided

presented me with the future

one that would prove to be all encompassing

We ran straight into one another

fearlessly

Beauty radiates

not always where we'd expect

as I soon discovered

just after the rendition revealed itself

I'm often asked if I'd do it all again-

any regrets?

I've a few

however our pasts dictate who we become

to change that

alters the path

"Dimitte Praeterita"

Letting go, leaving things behind to forge ahead

learning

bruising

forgetting to believe

losing infinite hope

yet somehow persevering

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Hopefully you've logged on to authorhouse.com and ordered your copy of the first book in the Pater Nostras series, The Garrison Effect. While the title had been switched (to Pater Nostras Canis Dirus) the first installment is well worth the read.

A great mind vacation...

Here's a clip from book two that may help enlighten you on the "why" in the title etc.

About the series:

"Pater Nostras Canis Dirus" or what is commonly referred to as "The Dire series" are a compilation of 10 novels.

Beginning with explanation of the title PNCD a latin reference to "our father (of) the Dire wolf".

This occurred by directive of my son Sage who desired definitive knowledge of werewolves, not the current lure resonating within the general population at large.

Hence birthed "The Garrison Effect", novel one.

This provided the first glimpse into the true origin of the (lycan) Dire as seen through Garrison Hastings eyes. We journey from the 1100's to present day, acquiring knowledge of all that it is Dire.

In the second installment, the novel "93 Kilometers to the better" we find the descendants of the original Dire realizing their destiny, thereby becoming wolf.

Old meets new.

The weave of this tale begets action in both Texas and amongst the Highlands of Scotland. Join us, quench your thirst for the knowledge...

feed your hunger with the tell, the unprecedented insight into the lives that had previously only existed in the shadows...

Learn what it is to be Dire...

Feel the exhilaration of immortality

the immense power...

Placed in their respective order:

"The Pater Nostras Canis Dirus" (The Dire wolf series)

"The Garrison Effect"

"93 Kilometers to the Better"

"The Dire"

"Cross Dominance"

"I am Tagon"

"Bristoll"

"The Mongrels"

"Rafeal Ab Initio" (From the beginning)

"Rafeal Ab Antiquo" (From the Ancient)

"Rafeal Ab Aeterno" (From the Eternal)

"Luce"

I hope that your holiday was wonderful and blessed!

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

In harenarius somnii (In sandy dreams)

She did so follow the path of the green, pulsating light...
Thoughts of him abound, intoxicated by the banter of friends, living within the moment of eraser- the pain subsiding, even if for a glimmer...
Still, she could offer no resistance to what beckoned.
Not that she'd bother.
Box left unopened seemed a worthy task to enlighten, to seize on exploration.
Puddles not jumped into spread no water,
felt no disturbance.
Life is meant to spill...
To dampen
Of these things she held certainty.
He nudged her back into the present; even if he could not gain complete control, well then, he'd certainly attempt to do so.
Knowing her the way that he did, her mind would often travel where her body could not.
In this she was incredibly adept.
One aspires to this when life dictates an escape that has become insurmountable.
He watched as her eyes told the sorrow of the travel.
The other was to come, and come soon enough.
She tempted fate often, knew that it was simply the way of it.
Her path to seek.
Mightily he held onto her hand, placed her into bed for slumber, praying that this would not be the evening where she'd wake and leave suddenly.
But she knew...
Even then.

Come for her he would, and he'd crush anyone who would stand in his way.
All of her life she had felt his pressence;
realized his plight.
He had it all.
Possessed what others merely grasp for...
Early on he had lost it all to neglect, for self satisfaction.
He'd not repeat this error twice.
Once the recognition took place she'd no more walk away from the challenge than he.

Circumstance be damned.
What belonged to be set in place to erradicate his past would find itself placed before his feet and no one could possibly match his strength, will or determination.
It was what it was.

She shuddered.
The dreams plaguing her yet again...
The man next to her protectively wrapped his arms around her, urging time to hold still...
The last thing he desired was for the light to illuminate the room
seeing her tears of anguish was tearing him apart.
He too had lost plenty.
There was nothing that he wouldn't do to hold onto what had been promised to him.

He understood that her word held.
That she'd never betray.
The other would, this he felt was a given truth.
Unless he could remove her, bring her home...back to the solace of the mountains...
She'd take flight.
Whatever drove her
stirred beneath the fragility of emotions running throughout her body
would grip the sensibilities, the intellect
force the issue

At times he didn't believe that the other would arrive
indeed, he had read the dark scripts that she had penned
bore witness to the many oddities that consistantly surrounded her person.
He held doubts.
She loved him, this was his truth.
She'd not willingly go...
He'd never release her binds.
He had even taken the extreme measure of binding her at night to his person.
He felt regret for her discomfort, yet this act assured him of a complete nights sleep.

The other had been made aware of the situation.
He made it his business to know everything pertaining to her life.
It was a necessity.
In order to find her, to procure what he desired above all else this he had to do.
His life had imploded 7 years ago to the day.
By prayer, though some would remark dark prayer
he had begged for the latitude to break from the daily routine and pursue the life that had been stolen from him, via deaths demise.
Death, he scoffed, had ripped his one true love from his life all of those years ago.
Recollection angered him greatly.
This woman was wild, a child at heart and for all intense purposes had broken; fallen.
All that was required was the procurement.
Her theological background, deep set belief was all that it would take to enforce his will.
Not love, commitment would stand in his way. She would not defy one thing, her achilles heel, and this fact- coupled with his intent would serve him the life that he felt should be afforded to him.

She knew that he could trump words spoken.
That he could destroy all that was her in the name of possession...
She had been warned of his consumption since the tender age of 3.
But like a moth to a flame, pragmatic only on the surface
adrenilin junky
she lifted her gaze to match his...

Instant recognition would be all that it would take...

As he often did, her mate took notice.
He always took notice when other men intruded on their lives.
Never sure when the egotiscal bastard would begin the fight, he was most assuredly not going to allow it to become a struggle.
He'd insulate her from the rigors of the journey.
No wealth, even one of such a vast nature could dissuade him.
Realizing that she was a mere child by heart he too had plans...
For his stature was as great, as stoic as the others...
Monetary gain had little to do with her promise, her stay.
It had everything to do with Pandoras box and little to do with rebellion.
Their foundation was solid.
You cannot steal what is built on cemented dreams.
If anything the other man held only a foundation of sand.
Sandy dreams.
Unfullfilled passions.
Too bad for him he thought.

She was confused as to why they were relocating abroad, inate trust of her man brought her to stand by his side.
Going home was paramount for healing.
He had (and rightfully so) sequestered her to his solitude.
Granting her only limited access to the outside world.
She had fallen.
The darkness had swallowed her whole and it was he who held onto the precious light.

The other was not of this soil left behind.
Mistake number one had been made, as he had predicted.
He now would hold the upper hand.
With the distance between them now removed he could act.
All that she needed to see was the box, the untangible.

They had met once, briefly.

He knew, with immediate urgency that she was the answer.
Fear caused her to turn away.
Dare. Bold bravado would bring her back.
This was a fact.

Finding a suitable business deal, contacting her business partner he'd place himself in her direct path...
seizing upon the opportunity to dismiss the others.
He could and would offer her what no one else could.
Sanctuarie.
It was where they both belonged.
Certainly he could no longer live without her, not after having waited so very long to procure.

He began to relinquish his control, feeling secure living abroad now.
The language barrier, his constant fathering of her assured him a life long partner.
He would be quick to marry her, adorn his love with what she needed, desired.
He was no failure when it came to domestication.
The dreams had seemingly dissipated since their arrival...
Nothing would stand in his way.
Complacency had begun to relax his effort- though he never wavered on his love for her...
He was certainly demonstrative a plenty.

She too felt relaxed.
Perhaps he had been correct.
It was just a dream, and she did, afterall, love this man mightily.
They rarely fought.
He had accepted her past, resolved any misgivings.
He demanded only her attention and loyalty.
This was given readily.
Easy enough to be loyal to a caring and trustworthy man.

The meeting was set for 2 pm, one that she could care less for attending, but her signature was required.
Her partner had remarked that something had felt "off" to him, and warned her into caution.
Life was, afterall a chess game, and he was a tried player.

The meeting was held in a secure location, though she had not been here before, her spirit had.
This place was known.
Pride kept her from running.
Having read the scribes manuscripts the partner again advised not to remain any longer then necessary.
Once he entered, she knew.
She had been hunted; her greatest fear had been realized.
He waited patiently as the meeting reached its natural conclusion.
As planned, dismissed the others.
He looked over to her.
"So you know."
"I do."
"Well then, what are we to do?"
"Nothing. I'm leaving."
"No. No, you won't, not until you listen to my proposal..."

The partner, sensing that his friend was in grave danger alerted her man-who promptly raced to be by her side.
He found the room empty...

*************************************************************

Though life has been difficult as of late, I wanted to thank my friends for all of their support.
Hope that you are all checking out the first novel, even in its imperfection it's a great read.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Ancora la (anchors)

When the pain bubbles up;

rises to the surface

so much so with such intensity that the anchor you once had begins to drag itself across the ocean floor

you find yourself engulfed

drowning in the choke of images rushing throughout your mind.

I found hate in the people that I had once entrusted with my life

dismissal

even possessing inherent knowledge of goodness and clearity, they couldn't stand with the strength that I knew that they did so bury within the daily grind of life.

I found myself caught between a war of love and hate;

when all I wanted was peace

release from the rigors of taking care of everyone else

a time

a few moments to just free fall back

But as I have always found

always

one standing order in my life

that no one affords this

Funny thing about strength;

most people cannot let go of it, even when it is not of their own making.

Like a thief they steal, fight, undermine just to feel it again.

For the brave however

it either burdens until a break

or it is fully embraced

I fall somewhere in the middle-not out of indecisiveness but because I am the exception.

The worst has already happened to me

I swam out into the middle

refusing to take sides

ever

I had to contemplate

realize an impossible dream

I do understand now that the only people who overcome the struggle are those who can ignore the hate

topple the word "no"

walk when it feels like the world wants you run

pushing you

pulling you back

Times like these

I ask why I have been devastated so?

And I realize that it is a necessity to begin a new venture.

When I hear the phrase "time will tell" even in its own pristine truth, one fact remains;

simple yet true

I am but a mere relfection of my heart and minds demeanor

I love mightily

I stay, I fight

but when I go...when I leave, I never return.

I reflect on the past...but that is all you'll ever know of me again...

I have this whole new life ahead of me

marred with a disturbance

a darkness

On the eve of such happiness

I'm tortured by the inability to seize the moment with bravado

all that I can offer is myself

my gift

past that, I'm just that little girl locked in the cellar trying to cope until help arrived

beyond the salvation craved

I couldn't find justice

so I created my own

did it right for everyone around me

I held stay;

strength

and

tonight

I fall

back into that darkness with little or no understanding from the beam of light

the flicker that provides hope

Previenent Grace...

I can't change those around me

only myself

I'm not a victim

not a survivor.

Just me, and right now that seems to be far too much trouble for the generals.

I phoned my captain.

Rang him with the news that I was headed for the open seas.

He didn't hear it in my voice, grasp the depth of my conviction.

But if anyone

and I mean anyone could bear the brunt of the storm

navigate the waters

it is the one with nothing to lose

My anchor, burdened with its own rust and decay

is metal of the truest beauty

for if there is one thing that I have learned sailing

is that no voyage should ever be taken on

with no ancora la to ground those who would venture

those who would seek home

in the fantastic

The day of embarkment arrives for us all

some purchase tickets to announce

some stow away

cower to the mass

others work to pay their way

but a select few...well they place their own hat on; their style, their passion and they steer...
they chart

they dare...

Tonight I see the cost

I weep as I did when I first realized that this was to be my life

regardless of where it would be lived

The only place of peace for a Saint is Sanctuaire.

The only Sanctuarie that exists that I know of is across the great waters...

The only way to cross

was to reveal my story...

Lift the anchor...
sail with bravado

The last few weeks have been incredible. Highs and lows that would have brought a weather man to tears. I want to take the time to thank everyone who had their hand in the project: Pater Nostras canis Dirus "The Garrison Effect" (found on authorhouse.com) especially Marshall Wayne who came in early with his fan website. We're emerging from the margin and without your support who would know???

Michael Turner who's friendship is invaluable, see you in Napa Valley.

John...well we compliment each others abilities, I admire your shoulder to shoulder attitude.

Sam for understanding that sometimes even the warrior has to relinquish some battles to win the war. Belief is key for life long love.

Doug...

You're home.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

The Norwegian

I stopped believing, and you would not believe that I could ever utter that remark if you knew me well enough.

I had internally though.

The Scandinavian saw to that. I bore witness to the distance in his eyes, all the while realizing that there was something compelling...

But, as you know, or should know, one cannot force another to open up and be free.

All we can do is politely ask.

When I walked into the room I didn't feel his eyes glancing in my direction. In fact, I didn't look around. I wasn't interested. I wanted a drink, I desired to speak with my friends and leave early.

That was the plan.

On the way there, it had occured to me that I was doing this right.

I held no expectations and I was free of the pain that had been burdening my shoulders.

I noticed him, 1 table over.

Completely not my type, not even close.

I smiled, and I saw the intensity of those baby blue eyes reflecting my sincerity in suprise

I attempted not to look

but I still did

and was caught

Still, I reminded myself that (again) he was not my type.

He walked by me

suddenly the realization that we were a match

chemically

what was I to make of that????

He came by the area where I was standing

I may have muttered out a brief hello

he asked if I'd like to go out sometime

I said yes

But I didn't mean it.

I planned on declining later.

He persisted.
I found that upon hearing that the reason he had asked me out was because he couldn't leave the establishment knowing that he'd never see me again-

a chance that he was not willing to take

I was not someone that he was able to lose

The Norwegian showed up with roses...

I wore little or no make up, deciding that he'd either like me or no'

told him exactly what I was dreaming of, as he revealed very much the same...

10 hours of reflection

that felt more to me like coming home than I had ever felt before

mostly

he wasn't afraid

to be bold

use bravado

without crass, or press in areas that should most definitely hold absolute respect

The Norwegian was a gentlemen

bound for love with no holds bar

he understood

that with love it really is all or nothing

when it's real

that we can take things slow

we can fight and wrestle our way all the way down

fighting because our pasts dictate a dilema

builds walls

The Scandenavian vascillated, believing that thee woman would come- instantly healing his heart

when the truth remains

that that comes from within

In the case of The Norwegian he chose

as did I

to for go all of the formalities

and not quite recklessly - but with a copious amount of abandon

with great risk comes great reward

and in our hearts

this is all we had to offer one another

He flew me to Rome

we married.

No one knew.

We invited no one.

Our moment was shared only by other tourist, villagers.

He took my face in his hands and promised that he'd never hurt me, that he'd love me forever.

Today, one year later,

he is home to me.

I could tell you emphatically how I came to love him so, or how/why he loves me. What purpose would that serve?

What I should remark to you is this:

Love isn't for the fearful.

It's not for the unforgiving.

It isn't meant to be over thought, contemplated.

It is to live. It is for our lives.

Had the Norwegian hesistated he would've lost me forever...

but he did the one thing that a lesser man would not have;

he turned to face me

with a strength that I had only written of.

Who could possibly ask for more?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Have a wonderful week!

The novel is in its publishing phase. It's been a long road, very exciting to begin to witness the fruition of such beloved labor.

John has been a wonderful friend throughout, Marshall placed a new website up to support the novel- and I thank him with such gratitude....Michael, as always what would I do without ya?

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Life Reclaimed

Not certain as to whether or not the downward spiral had been recognizable, noticable, but still I pressed further.

With nowhere to go but up I took Kevins advice and left.

Going abroad had been a wonderful, brilliant stroke of genius on his part.

As well I knew, he'd not be able to leave things as they were, and true to form he did not.

He flew in, one areocraft directly after mine.

I heard his voice above the others in the crowd. I thought, at first, that this could not be. But I did turn...

Call it eternal hope, faith that just perhaps life would finally serve me with the sancuarie that my soul so desperately craved...

He shouted- with all of his might yet another row.

There was no way, none, not in this lifetime that he'd allow theft of his hearts desire to slip away into the ancient city.

She had called him out regarding his fears- both present and buried.

Kevin was not a man who bore this well. Yes, he understood that her assessment was correct- but she had no' the right to delve into his pyche.

Too much to bear however, seeing her with another man

knowing the cardinal knowledge that he felt passionate enough to retain for himself he chose- no, demanded that he stand.

For the majority of his life he had, for the most part

played the game extraordinarily well

His genius brought him into circles that could easily be expounded upon

he'd seize on opportunity

drive projects, collegues into the vision retained by memory

sheer will

Yet he had turned... albeit far back in time

Leaving it all behind.

The monetary gain, the lifestyle, the fame.

For family, for love.

And for a time that had appeased his lifes well.

For a time.

Faced with the prospect of losing the one woman who had breeched the walls surrounding his sensibilities

he scoffed at the mere thought of failure

he raced through the crowded aeroport until he found a glimpse of her

She wasn't difficult to find

when in a crowd she didn't blend in didn't rush was often discovered awestruck at her surroundings

This aeroport held familiarity for Kevin

Realizing that her attention would be captivated- she'd be slowed down

He'd catch up

No pretense

no games

Capitulation at any cost.

She turned. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest cavity...

So he had arrived, just behind her

His words were profound

he loved her soul

his eyes danced at the thought of her resting in his embrace

She dropped her baggage

doubled back

stopped short of his feet...

She glanced up, wondering what/if she should say a thing

He ended the quandry

"I know what has been troubling you, I am afterall the one who sent you here. I didn't want to be one of the people in your life who only eased their way to covet. I desire you. It's just that simple. Don't tell me that I'm too late. Don't. You know me. You've known who I am, what kind of man that I will be with you at my side. I need you to relinquish at this point- and I do understand how difficult that will be, but know this: I am perfectly able to take care of you. Marry me...love me for the rest of your life...let go of your past honey."

Kevin searched her eyes for the truth he so longed to hear.

Tears welled up in her eyes

"I'm so tired"

His hopes began to sink...

"I know but-"

"No Kevin. I'm tired of running...I just need to know- with clearity- that my trust will never be broken."

"You already know."

"Prove it."

"Give me twenty or so years will you?"

She smiled

"I will."

"I want to hear it."

"Hear what?"

"That you love me."

"You know that I do."

"It's not enough. Fess up."

Kevin wrapped his arms around her, leaned down and kissed her harshly. "I mean it little girl. I want to hear it."

"I do. I love you Kevin."

"Good to know sweetheart. Ready for an adventure?"

She grinned broadly "Happily so."

The pair, her hand enveloped in his, left the aeroport for the countryside. For Kevin, knowing her love proved to be fulfilling...more so than he could've possibly imagined.

He would never allow her to leave his side after this.

Never.

Kevin had lost far too much in this lifetime. Loves that had come and go, children who had grown-moved on with their own lives.

This was for him.

For once

for once upon a time (as it were) where he'd be the King master of his kingdom.

Life reclaimed was his to give to her.

Blessed week to you,

many thanks to everyone who worked towards the common goal of getting the novel "The Garrison Effect" into publishing.

Many thanks to you Captain for being there, when I had become submerged into the depths of the project.

Everyone requires a landline I'd suppose and you were just that.

To better daze.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews