by J J Loraine
A Soldier for Her Curves
Love Letters from Behind Enemy Lines
An Alpha Man and Curvy Woman Romance
J.J. Loraine
Copyright © 2019 J.J. Loraine
All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: Owen
Chapter Two: Sophie
Chapter Three: Owen
Chapter Four: Sophie
Chapter Five: Owen
Chapter Six: Sophie
Chapter Seven: Owen
Chapter Eight: Sophie
Chapter Nine: Owen
Chapter Ten: Sophie
Chapter Eleven: Owen
Chapter Twelve: Sophie
Chapter Thirteen: Owen
Chapter Fourteen: Sophie
Chapter Fifteen: Owen
Chapter Sixteen: Sophie
Chapter Seventeen: Owen
Chapter Eighteen: Sophie
Chapter Nineteen: Owen
Chapter Twenty: Sophie
Chapter Twenty-One: Owen
Epilogue
Other Titles by J.J. Loraine
1
Owen
Dear Sophie,
Please believe me when I say I didn’t mean for things to go this way.
I didn’t know.
When you do what I do, life can change in an instant. I thought I had finally found the change I had always yearned for when we met under the big oak tree, alone in the middle of the big, bustling city, that night -- but I was wrong.
I’m always wrong.
Things can never seem to go right for too long in my life.
Sure, I experience the good sometimes -- the mountain top highs and sweet rain storms of accolades and admiration... but there’s always a dark valley just below that I can’t help but descend into – because that’s my only way home.
I’m sorry, I didn’t warn you.
I knew something might come up, but I didn’t want to believe it. You made me want to believe that my life could change -- that I could change.
Fate is just too stubborn, though... and so am I.
I acted rashly. You reminded me of home and for the first time in my entire adult life I felt like I could reach out and touch it – reach out and touch you... and so I did.
I don’t regret it... but I do wish I was more honest, with you and myself.
I can only allow myself to become so connected to another person. I’ve had so much darkness fill my valley road home that it’s hard to see anyone anymore.
You instantly became a shining beacon for me, though – a light in the pitch black that filled me with warmth and hope and...
I just want to apologize. You don’t deserve this life of mine, and it’s my fault you’ve been dragged into the weeds and thorny roses that litter my jagged landscape.
If you’re hurt, then blame me; not yourself. There’s nothing you could have done; there’s nothing you can do. There’s a much higher power at play here. I wish I could fight it. I wish I could cut through the thick bushes that hold us apart and take you in my arms like I did that night not too long ago...
I still remember how you taste.
Sometimes, I breathe in and your cinnamon scent wafts into my nostrils. Your warmth lingers on my fingertips like a dream. I fall into the daze of your presence all too often; it’s dangerous. I can’t afford to be distracted out here.
You’ll be the death of me.
That’s why we have to forget about each other; about our night under the big oak tree in the middle of the city; about our pasts and our future.
I might not have a future at all if I can’t get you off my mind. I need to focus. I need to forget about you; forget about home, and forget about the feelings that have invaded my once stoic nature since you’ve re-entered my life.
These heavy thoughts are the kind of dead-weights that fill up an empty jarhead; those helmets don’t leave the desert. I intend to.
I’m a survivor; always have been and always will be.
That’s why I have to shed you, no matter how much I don’t want to.
Maybe, someday, we’ll have another shot, but now’s not that the time. Think of me as though I’m already dead, but don’t mourn my loss. We’re both better off apart.
All my love,
Owen.
2
Sophie
Dear Owen,
Fuck you.
Really. Wow. That was some artificial, honey sweetener bullshit.
It’s been a week and all you send me is a letter!? Really!?
Did we get transported back in time 100 years? I would have been better off not hearing your shitty attempt at a long form poem.
I may have fallen for your sugary words that night under the oak tree, but that’s only because I was in a vulnerable place... and I thought you had finally changed for the better.
Boy, you made me feel like an idiot!
You’re a soldier; I get it. You were honest enough to me that night. I didn’t expect a husband, just maybe some common courtesy.
This is a whole other can of worms, though.
I’ve been ghosted before, honey; you can believe that. You’re not so special as to be the first – you’re just the first to try and back out of a relationship with a freaking letter!
I mean, who even writes a letter nowadays!? I don’t even know why I’m responding to you with one – I actually don’t know why I’m responding to you at all. You’re making me feel like a spinster way before my time, asshole.
I don’t know what you did with your phone, but you could have at least texted me. I tried calling you the day after our little meet up; you didn’t even have a voicemail. Did you give me the wrong number!?
I can’t believe...
To think I was actually worried something had happened to you.
You’re the one that should be worried about me! I feel sick after reading what I just did.
I don’t care if you don’t want to see me again, just please, stop with all that flowery bullshit. You don’t have to wax poetic to make me feel better. Your letter was so sweet that it nearly made me barf. I might have to call an ambulance.
Who do you think you are? T.S. Eliot?
Don’t pity me, I’ll be alright. In fact, I’ll be better off without you. I already am. I have a sob story too, you know. I don’t need your extra weight, Mr. Emo-marine.
Oh, yeah, and by the way – and this is just a simple word of advice from someone who’s actually getting a college education – if you’re trying to smooth things over with a girl you’ve fucked over, don’t call her deadweight, no matter how well-meaning you are.
Guess they didn’t teach that in boot camp, love-letter writing school, huh?
Dear lord, I can’t believe I let you kiss me.
Please, erase me from your mind. I’ll sleep better knowing I’m not in your creepy thoughts anymore.
If it helps, there was never anything real between us. I was just in a weird place, and you just so happened to show up. I would have fallen for anyone that night, you just got lucky enough to be there. Hell, I would have preferred a 150-year-old T.S. Eliot. Then, at least this letter writing bullshit would make a modicum of sense.
Anyways, I’m out. My wrists are flaring up almost as bad as my temper. We barely even write half of our exams on laptops now – get with the times old man.
Hears to me never hearing from your again!
Please don’t contact me again.
All the worst,
Sophie.
3
Owen
Dear Sophie,
I’m sorry. I really am.
I’m sorry for how our night under the oak tree ended. I’m sorry for not contacting you for a we
ek afterwards. I’m sorry for writing you a letter. I’m sorry for trying to get my feelings across through words. I’m not a writer. I don’t have a fancy college education like you. I was in a bad place and I thought I could try to communicate it through my writing. I guess I was wrong, and for that, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for all of that... but I’m especially sorry you’re such a bitch!
You know I’m a soldier. I’m off fighting for your freedom and I can’t even get a little respect from you for that!? I don’t make my own schedule, darling. I do what I can, and right now, that means being so far from home that I don’t even recognize the stars at night.
I’m sorry I didn’t call or text. They don’t allow phones on the job when you’re as high up as I am. Too easy to hack; too easy to trace; too easy to die from. In fact, it’s a miracle I’m still alive. If I had anyone else to send a letter to, you wouldn’t be getting anything. You should feel thankful that a war hero is even spending a second in the field thinking about you!
I’m sure you’re making the world a much better place, sitting on your big ass, studying old poets or whatever the hell you’re doing. I’m out here in the shit, and the only thing that made it smell halfway decent was the memory of our night together, but, boy, have you soured that.
Thanks a lot!
I thought we had gotten over this. I thought that our rough relationship from high school was a thing of the past. I thought we were adults now. I thought you actually always liked me.
I know I always actually liked you.
We’ve both been hit hard by the world, but we’re strong. You’ve grown into such a wonderful, strong person ever since you’re parents passed – I didn’t even know you capable of such venom.
I guess that’s what I get from making presumptions from a one-night stand.
I didn’t want it to just have been a one-night stand, though...
I’m sorry for sending you another letter. I... I just have no one else to talk to. It’s tough out here, no matter how many times I’ve been in the shit before. A tether to home feels like only thing keeping me from running out into the open and taking on the whole enemy by myself.
I know this is a weird letter. I already regret what I said in the first half, but I won’t redact it. I only want to be honest with you, even if that means revealing myself at my weakest.
I really care about you Sophie. I want to be with you, but I can’t. I want to tell you why, but I can’t. There’s so much in this world that I just can’t do right now, and there’s only one thing that I can – I can write a letter to you...
And so that’s why I’m doing.
You don’t have to respond. I understand your reaction. It hurts, but I understand. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.
All my best,
Owen
4
Sophie
Dear Owen,
OK, I might have overreacted, just a little bit.
I’m sorry. I really am.
I know you’re out there -- wherever you are – putting your life on the line for everyone back home. I know you don’t control the winds of war... but you did have control of my heartstrings for just long enough to make you cutting them off and running away hurt more that I had expected.
I WAS being a bitch in my last letter. I’m sorry I said I would have rather kissed a 150-year-old T.S. Eliot than you. It’s not true... (Although you should know, if he ever comes back to life, I will find him and I WILL kiss him!)
I enjoyed our night together. I REALLY enjoyed it. That’s why I was so upset when I didn’t hear from you. I HAVE been ghosted before, and those times hurt, but I always knew that those relationships weren’t going anywhere. With you, though, it’s different.
I really felt like we had something special that night. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that way about anyone before.
You’ve got my head spinning in circles. It doesn’t help that school is so hectic right now... and I’ve got other issues too...
I’m just a mess. I don’t want to drag you into my shit. I know you’ve got enough of it at your feet.
It’s just that you made me feel like I might be able to turn things around, that night under the oak tree -- and then you go and pull the rug out from under me, for whatever reasons, and I’m left standing in the same quicksand I was in before, only now, I’m deeper.
I feel like I have no center. My insides are all over the place. I have no consistency in my life. I’d sure like some, though.
A letter’s a good place to start, I guess.
I hope you’re doing alright. I really do.
I understand the loneliness, in my own way. I can hardly even remember why we didn’t get along back in high school, but I wish that we had. I needed someone else so badly back then – I still do. It would have been nice to have had a shoulder to lean on.
I guess we’re both just as stubborn as fate. It doesn’t make life any easier, so why don’t we try and change?
I want to know that you’re safe. We’ve already experienced enough tragedy; there’s no need to go looking for more.
I may not forgive you completely for what you did, but at least I understand a little better now.
Thank you for your letter. I appreciate that you’re thinking of me out there, somewhere underneath the same set of stars. I know they look different to you now, but I assure you, when I look up at them at night, I’m looking at the same constellations... and I’m thinking of you.
You have someone in this world, even if it’s just a friend. I know I need the support; I can’t imagine how much it would mean to both of us.
Let’s let sleeping dogs lie.
Please, write to me any time. I’ll write back. I promise.
My wrist is already getting stronger, I can feel it. At worse, it’s good practice for when exam season comes around again.
I hope this letter finds you well.
All the best,
Sophie.
5
Owen
Dear Sophie,
Thank you so much.
I know what you mean, about being all over the place. I feel the same way. Maybe it’s just where we’re from; maybe it’s just in our blood. I don’t know but I’m glad I have someone to share it with, no matter how far apart we are.
I’ve tried getting access to a phone, but it’s near impossible. I’m not sure I’d even be able to risk the consequences if I actually did find one.
It’d be nice to hear your voice again, but your words are more than enough to keep me going.
Things are starting to get a little more intense around here. Security is definitely getting tighter. I hope this letter finds you well. There’s a lockdown on communications, but I found someone willing to sneak this letter out to you.
If I don’t hear from you again, I’ll just assume that you either didn’t get this letter, or that my connections haven’t been able to get your response to me.
It’s nice to have an excuse for the loneliness. Because of you, I know there’s someone thinking of me. It makes all of this darkness so much more bearable.
I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been going through your own shit. I should have known. The way you collapsed into my arms when we kissed that night – it was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
I felt the same way. I would have collapsed too, if I didn’t have to fulfill my duty of holding you upright.
I wish I could have kissed you back harder. I wish I could have eased you down to the grass and onto your back. We could have been sure we were looking up at the same stars then.
I was hesitant, though. Even with all your warmth, I knew that coldness lurked around the corner for me. It always does.
I should have just wrapped you up in my arms as tightly as I could and committed and then called in and quit the next day... but I don’t even know if I CAN quit.
I know you’re not there yet, but I can’t help but think of you as more than just a friend. The
taste of your soft, wet lips won’t leave my mind.
If we can get over being enemies in high school, then surely, we can make our way towards something bigger than being just friends now... right?
I’m not trying to trap you in some long-distance relationship, but I want you to know, the moment I’m back, I’m coming for you. You’ve given me a whole new spirit. I’ve starting planning a future for the first time since my own parents passes away. I was such an angry kid. I’ve been such an angry adult, but I don’t feel angry anymore, I just feel determined.
I’m determined to get out of here alive and get to you.
I won’t be so hesitant the next time we meet.
I don’t care if we’re under a big oak tree in the middle of the city or in a little bed in a small house, I’m going to wrap you up in my arms and fill you up with all the care we’ve been missing throughout our lives. No one else is going to give it to us, we have to TAKE it.
I’m willing to risk it all to make it work.
I know I might be sounding more direct that you’d like right now -- I definitely feel more focused than I was in my previous letters – but time has become of the essence.
Life is so short and dangerous, but I want to make it long and prosperous, and I want to do that with you.
The action is picking up where I am, but I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ll be alright. I’ve always managed to come out without a scratch before, and now that I have you to fight for, I’m more confident than ever.
I finally have a home again, and it’s with you.
Owen.
6
Sophie
Dear Owen,
Please be safe. Don’t fight for me. Fight for yourself. I’ll be here when you get back, no matter what. Just make sure you get back.
I have to confess. I still haven’t been able to shake all the feelings you left me with under the oak tree that night either. I didn’t want to admit it, because I was still angry from the way we left it, but I do want to be more than just friends.
I can still feel your strong arms around me, even now.
Can you blame a girl, though? You must know how chiseled your physique is. Those boulders you have for biceps don’t fade fast from memory...
