Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“I don’t want to leave you.” His whispered confession has tears welling in my eyes. I blink them away quickly, not daring to let them fall.
Rolling over, I rest my hand against his cheek. “This is who you are. My husband is serving our country, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
“I’ve never dreaded my job more than I do at this moment.” He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to my lips.
“We’ve got this, Chad. I’ll get you all moved, and settled, and I’ll be here waiting for you when you get home.”
“That’s different,” he replies. I can hear the awe in his voice. “Knowing I have a wife to come home to.”
“Well, you’ll be used to it by the time you get home.”
“I don’t know that I’ll ever be used to the fact that you’re my wife, Faith.”
“This is your reminder.” I lift his hand and place a kiss on his wedding band.
“I don’t need that reminder. There isn’t a single moment in a day where I’m not thinking about you.”
My heart lurches inside my chest at his confession. I want to ask him if he thinks about Ford as much as he does me. We’re just friends. Friends who apparently get married and make love for hours on end. I don’t have the guts to say the words. Besides, this isn’t going to be an easy conversation, and the numbers on the clock keep moving forward. We don’t have time. I need to send my husband off with a clear head, and hopefully a full heart, with the anticipation of coming home to me.
His wife.
“I need to start getting ready.” There’s regret and pain in his voice. “I don’t know that I can do it, Faith. I don’t know that I can climb out of this bed and make myself leave you. I just got you. It’s not even been twenty-four hours since I made you my wife.”
The lump in the back of my throat grows. I swallow it back, fighting against my own emotions. “I’ll be your wife, no matter where you are in the world.”
“I need you to be my wife in my arms, in my bed. I fucking hate this. I hate that I have to leave.”
This time, it’s me who moves forward as I press my lips to his. “This is who you are. I know that, and so do you. Does it suck? Yes, it does. But you’ve got this. A few short months, and then you’ll be right back here.”
“Four to six,” he mumbles.
“We can do that. Easy-peasy.” I hope that my voice is as carefree as I’m trying to make it sound, when the reality is that I’m dying inside and I feel the exact same way, but I’m his support system. I need to make this easier for him. I can fall apart once his bus pulls away. I’ll have our friends and family here to pick me up. Right now, he needs me to keep him moving. To show him that we’ve got this, and although it sucks and I’m going to miss him like a limb, we’ve got this.
He’s got this.
I’ve got this.
Four to six months, and then forever.
We can do this.
“Come on, husband. Let’s get you ready to go.” I keep my tone light, even though my heart is heavy as I start to roll over, but he stops me. He moves to his back and pulls me on top of him.
“Five more minutes.”
I don’t get a chance to reply before his lips meld with mine. He kisses me so tenderly, so slowly, it brings tears to my eyes. I fight against them, not willing to let them fall. I can do that after.
We kiss for far too long and end up having to rush to get ready to leave. Luckily, Chad packed for his leave early. I was also able to slip a letter into his bag without him seeing. I wanted him to have a piece of home as soon as he reached his destination.
By the time we make it to the lobby, our family is waiting for us. Everyone is wearing their emotions on their sleeves, and I know I need to do something. This is hard enough on him as it is.
“Good morning,” I say cheerily. Fake it until you make it, or in this case, until your husband’s bus that’s taking him across the world for deployment drives away.
Chad releases my hand from his tight grip and slides his arm around my waist. His lips press against my temple, and I don’t need his words to know he’s thanking me for breaking up the sorrow of the moment.
“How about after this, we go have breakfast?” I ask our families.
“That’s perfect, sweetheart,” my dad speaks up.
“Are we doing this here or when we get there?” Ford asks.