Fuck that sounded bad. So fucking bad. And I was getting ready to add to it.
“We get underway in two days,” I said, breaking the news I got today.
“It got moved up? But… why?”
I laughed. “Yeah, DOD and SECNAV called and asked, ‘Sergeant Marin, what do you think about getting underway a week early?’”
“Okay, yeah, that was a stupid fucking question.”
The tone of his voice made me feel like the biggest asshole. Rightly so, but still.
“It was also a bitchy way to respond. I’m no more happy about it than you are, Bello.”
Crickets could be heard; his side of the connection was so fucking quiet.
“I’m sorry, vato. Are you okay?”
“No. The couple months you were away during the summer…” his voice wavered, trailing off into nothingness.
And, given the time frame for the deployment, we’d be separated for our first everything: First Thanksgiving, first Christmas, possibly even our first anniversary if things got stretched out, which was known to happen.
Silence spread between us, expanding to fill the void and stretching into strained awkwardness. Closing my eyes, I dropped onto the couch, waiting for him to respond. Only I married a man who was just as stubborn as I could be.
Finally, I relented, hating the neediness in my voice.
“I know you have shit to handle, but I want to see you before…”
“Papi,” his voice trembled, and he paused briefly before continuing. “I wouldn’t let you leave without seeing you, but I don’t know if I’m gonna make it back to the apartment before you go.”
His reassurance touched me, so I said, “I could come there.”
The deep, shuddered breath that came across the connection nearly broke my heart. “Would you?”
“Vato, unless the corps orders otherwise, where you are is where I want to be.”
More emotion-filled breathing and a small huff of laughter came through the phone. “Same. I want to be where you are, too.”
“Good. I’ll gather some things together and head your way. Looks like a vacay at the Beachy Mansion House,” I joked.
“It’s not a mansion.”
The growl that came through the phone was adorable as fuck, but I kept my mouth shut and asked, “Do you need me to bring you anything?”
“Yes. I don’t have anything here. I packed up everything when I moved in with you. We won’t need toothbrushes or anything like that, but clothes for sure.”
“For the night and tomorrow, right?” I ask.
I really hope we’re not there until I deploy. I’d like some time alone with him before we leave.
“Yeah, hopefully, we’re back home tomorrow. I’d like to spend your last night in our home, alone together.”
“Agreed, vato. I’d like that too.”
Several moments passed before he said, “This sucks.”
“Agreed,” I joked, but it fell flat.
I knew most military couples spent more than half their marriages separated, but I didn’t know how we were going to fair. The rate of divorce was high in military families, and even though we came to be in this relationship in an unexpected way, I wouldn’t change a thing.
