Nick loved his life, and even that wasn’t enough to explain just how much he truly loved his life. A little boy named Bradley and one lovable wife, a big house and a dog. It was literally perfect. Storybook family. Not to mention, his family was completely and utterly perfect. His son with the same dirty curls as his wife, band-aids littering his arms from roughhousing or playing jets with Daddy.

And that wife of his— she’s the reason he’ll die an early death, not the Navy. Every damn morning he woke up next to you, wondering how the hell he managed to get so insanely lucky. Not only did he get to be your boyfriend at a point in time, but your husband? He could still faint at the news (and you’ve been married for awhile now, too)— just like he did with baby number one.

Or like when he blacked out once you finally said yes. He didn’t even manage to put the ring on your finger before toppling off his knee. He was only out for a moment, but he honestly felt like he was being woken up from a dream until he saw your face and was shocked that this was his reality. What in the world did he do to deserve this?

His biggest fear was leaving you a widow, a single mother, and a woman without her best friend. He loved flying— especially with Pete, but it just wasn’t the same with a family at home.

And now, on leave, despite the early hours of the morning and how the sun hadn’t even risen yet, Nick felt something squirming in between you and him on your California King. Usually he wouldn’t’ve minded it, but he’d rather keep you asleep because he knew the rascal drove you insane (in an adoring way, of course) every weekday and the weekends were your time to sleep in.

The wriggling continued, and Nick was quick to get up and take Bradley back to bed.