There is no sex in this story,
My name is Least. It's not my birthname but my nickname I inherited when I was in Special Forces. I'm not 6'5 and 250 pounds or even close. Rather, I'm barely 5' 10 and usually run around 180 pounds. No one thought I could make it through special forces training but I was set on proving them wrong.
The completion of my training was celebrated at a bar where I was christened with the name of "least" because I was so much smaller than the goliaths in my group. An hour later the celebration had waned but not the party. I found myself a seat at the bar and ordered a beer.
A beautiful young lady sat down beside me and said, "Hey Least, how about buying a gal a beer."
After nodding to the bartender, I asked how she knew my name? She nodded over to TK.
TK was our leader, a giant of a man with a death stare that could make men pee their pants. I was the recipient of one of those stares at that moment. I didn't know him well at that time. Later I learned he was mostly a teddy bear but if you were in the shit, you couldn't find a better man at your side.
Amy told me she was TK's kid sister and a nurse at the military hospital. The more she talked, the more her eyes shined like sapphires and the more I fell in love with her. I cursed myself though. Military marriages have the highest divorce rate in the country therefore I hoped to meet the future Mrs. Least after my service time was up. Man plans and god laughs.
The night was getting late and I hit the head before heading back to the barracks. On my back to the bar, I saw Amy playing with my phone.
"Can I help you," I said.
"I'm good, I just put my number in your phone so you can call me for a date," she said as she kissed my cheek and left with TK.
God was still laughing nine months later as I Amy and I said our vows. TK said at the reception that Amy always got what she wanted, and she wanted me from the day they walked into that bar.
Later, TK came up to me and I said, "Is this where you give me the warning on not to hurt her?"
"Least, if I felt I would have to give you that warning you would never have had a chance to buy that first beer."
Life with Amy that two years was great. My time in the military was less so. Too many missions, too many deaths at my hands. I quickly became the sharpshooter. They wanted to change my name to head shot because that's where my bullets usually struck. I was so removed from the actual carnage though. They were simply green blips on my night vision glasses heading in the wrong direction. I began wondering as my targets fell, whether they were men, women or children. Those events kept haunting more and more of my dreams.
On one op, I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize someone had snuck up behind me. We shot each other at the same time. Of course, his face exploded, he hit my leg. What I didn't realize the bullet had nicked an artery. TK called us to regroup, and I told him I had a leak. I passed out when I stood up. Somewhere I came to when TK and someone else were carrying me back to the copter.
The second time I woke up I was in a military hospital in Germany. A day later I was on a military transport on my way back to the states. My hospital stay was short lived, and since Amy worked there, she visited me frequently. But there was something off about her.
Before I was released, I was visited in my room by a strange man. He was missing his right hand and there was serious scarring slightly visible under his collar.
"Good morning Least, how's the leg?"
"Coming along and do I know you?"
"No, you don't. There is a group of us that can no longer serve active duty that try to help military spouses, usually they aren't aware of us. Mostly we watch and/or try and prevent anything bad from happening, excessive drinking, drug use or running around. Regarding Amy, I have to tell you she "stepped out" while you were gone. It was only the one time. Most guys choose to ignore an occasional night out, some let their egos get in the way. Thankfully, none of that is our business. I am sorry to bring you this news."
He got up and left, no goodbye, no handshake. He just left. I was devastated. Fuck, we had just celebrated our third anniversary. Still lost in those thoughts, my doctor came in and discharged me. Fuck, I had to go home to Amy. I called a cab to take me home.
TK was walking out as I approached the door and took me into a bear hug. I walked in and found Amy sitting at the table crying. She came running over to me, but I put my hands up to stop her.
"I am so sorry Least."
"Sorry only makes you feel better, not me Amy. I need a shower and bed."
We didn't speak again. I showered and headed for bed. Amy had beat me, she had on her classic sleeping shorts and a t-shirt which I always found sexier than lingerie on her. I climbed into bed and turned my back to her. She was crying, I was angry. She pulled me onto my back, put her head on my chest and continued to cry.
Listening to her cry was breaking my heart more than her unfaithfulness. Eventually I kissed her forehead. She looked up and kissed my lips. We continued to kiss, not mad passionate kisses, more like the soft gentle kisses with your first girlfriend. Amy started to slide her hand down my belly, and I pulled her hand back.
In response to the questioning look in her eyes, I said, "Too soon Amy."
"I can wait," she said with a sad smile on her face.
We fell asleep like that and in the morning, it felt like a bad storm had passed during the night and the world was going to be ok.
A few weeks later, there was a group of us in the bar including TK and Amy. Some guy came up to Amy and said, "Is this little wimp your special forces husband?"