Through grief, Kyp and Jaina learn a more important aspect of love.
Excerpt
Kyp would never forget the moments in the snow.
By chance it seemed more romantic fiction than happy coincidence that snow enveloped the more important moments of their life together. He had stolen their first kiss after a breathtakingly tense battle had reunited them over Csilla.
At a winter festival five months later, he had danced with her on a balcony of the rebuilt Star Fighter Command center and whispered that he loved her. Her lips had trembled with something more than cold when she pressed the same words against his lips.
Two years later, Kyp had the temerity to say something even more important to her. He had bullied the pilots out of the squadron's mess hall for the night, arranging an appropriately extravagant meal that didn't include a single ration bar, set lorna blossoms in the center of the table, and had a bottle of Alderaanian champagne ready.
He wasn't sure if they would use it to celebrate, but if things didn't go as planned, he could at least use it to dull the pain with a drunken stupor.