I run toward him and crash my lips to his. Cheers and whistles ring out from the bus, but I pay no mind to them. I soak up the last few seconds of being in Trent’s arms and pray that it won’t be the last time.
Chapter Two
Tori
Positive. Two dark pink lines stare back at me from the white countertop in my bathroom, where the pregnancy test sits. I’ve avoided taking it but I couldn’t delay it any longer. My hands tremble as I lift the plastic stick to get a closer look. Yep, I am definitely pregnant. It’s been six weeks since Trent left. When my period didn’t arrive like clockwork, my boobs no longer fit in my bra, and I threw up in the trash can at work yesterday, I knew I was pregnant.
I haven’t heard a word from Trent in two weeks. I’ve had two letters and one phone call. He said communication would be few and far between for the first few months, something I am all too familiar with, but now more than ever, I wish I could call him. Actually, if we are wishing for stuff, I wish he were here to share this moment with me.
Am I ready to be a mother? Not really. Sure, I’m not super young; I’m twenty-seven, I have my own apartment and a good job, but Trent and I haven’t even said I love you yet. Does that matter? I know he does. I know I do, and this baby will be so loved by the both of us.
I leave the bathroom and go in search of my notepad to write a letter to Trent to get him to call me as soon as he can. I decide on a chamomile tea to settle my nerves, and as I fill the kettle, I notice his mug still on the drainer. I haven’t been able to bring myself to put it away because putting it away makes the reality of him being away all the more real. It’s the little things I miss the most. The good morning texts and the goodnight calls. The ability to pick up the phone and ask how they are. It’s coming home to an empty apartment and sleeping in a bed that feels so big and empty with sheets that never rumple or crinkle on one side. It’s not seeing his shoes by the door, his wet towel on the bathroom floor, or loose change on the nightstand. It’s the everyday, ordinary parts of life that we miss the most when they are gone; the things that we don’t realize that we take for granted until we no longer have the luxury of having those moments anymore. So, I keep his coffee mug on the drainer and a pair of his shoes by the door and count down the days on my calendar until he’s home to fill the empty spaces he left behind.
Chapter Three
Noah
The relief that washes over your body when your vehicle crosses camp lines when returning from a patrol is only something a fellow soldier will understand. I feel the adrenaline that kept me alert and alive slowly leave my system the closer we get to safety. It doesn’t matter how many tours I do; every time my friends and I are fortunate to return unscathed, I say a big thank you to the man upstairs and hope we are just as fortunate the next time. We only have a few days to rest, regroup, recharge, and get back out there.
We achieved what we set out to do on this patrol, and when the wagon pulls up outside the main tent on our compound in Kandahar, we are met with cheers and whistles from the other soldiers.
“Welcome back, boys,” someone calls as we disembark.
We head to our tents, and I waste no time removing my bulletproof vest and helmet. A collection of moans of released tension echo around us as Brad, Jack, and Scotty do the same as me.
“Fuck, I think my back is broken. Are those things getting heavier to wear?” Harry groans, flopping down face-first onto his issued cot bed.
“No, I think you are just getting weaker,” Jack teases. Harry doesn’t lift his head; he just raises his hand, giving Jack the middle finger as we all snicker. We all collapse onto our fold-out beds, and I stare up at the roof of the tent as a comfortable silence falls around us. I know they, too, are taking a moment to reflect. We rarely talk about what we’ve seen, what we’ve done. There’s a silent understanding between us all. But I know if I needed to talk things out, these guys would be here to listen.
“Oooh, are they from Mystery Girl?” Harry teases. I lift my head to see Jack flicking through a stack of letters. Jack and I have been friends since high school, and I love the guy like a brother. He grew up in a stable, loving home, and I grew up in chaos with a mom who preferred pills, alcohol, and men instead of her own children. It pushed me and my little sister Maria, or Ria as she is often called, together. We became an unbreakable pair, and leaving her to join the Marines was the hardest thing I’ve done. But I had to get out. I had to make a better life for myself and for her. When Jack said he was joining, I saw it as my sign, my opportunity to break free. I secretly sent money to my sister to keep her afloat, but when an incident happened between her and one of my mom’s bastard boyfriends, my sister got taken into care, and even though I came home and fought tooth and nail to gain custody of her, I didn’t win. I failed her, and that crushing guilt has lain heavy on my chest ever since.
So, when Ria met Alex, a guy who seemed a little off to me, who swept her off her feet and gave her a life she dreamed of,I pushed my feelings aside and was grateful that one of us got our happily ever after. Truthfully, I thought Ria would end up with Jack. They think I don’t know there was something between them. The small glances, Jack’s not so subtle ways of bringing Ria up in a conversation just so he could find out how she was doing, were never missed by me. I have no doubt that they both buried whatever feelings they had for one another because of me, but I didn’t want to pry. Maybe I was wrong, but when I caught a glimpse of Jack’s letter and noticed a very familiar handwriting when we were on our last tour, I’m pretty sure my hunch about his mystery girl is right.
I haven’t found the one. There was one girl, but it wasn’t meant to be because she was Scotty’s girl. It’s a secret I’ll keep until my last breath. He can never know the way I feel about Tori. I’ve always been married to the job and too busy to find anyone. It didn’t seem fair to give someone only fragments of myself when they would, without a doubt, deserve the whole. So until that day comes, when I either retire or find the girl who makes me want to give it all up, I keep going as I am. Those are the lies I tell myself because the real, raw, ugly truth of it all was that I found the girl, and she was with my best friend, and there isn’t a thing I can do about it. Something in my gut told me that she was the one for me the moment I met her. An instant connection that can’t be explained. They say when you know, you know, and I did the minute our eyes connected in that bar all those years ago. But over time, I have had to learn how to push my feelings aside and find a way of being okay with never having her, because I could never hurt Scotty like that.
“Any letters for you, Haz man?” Scotty asks, taking off his boots.
“Not yet. I’m sure they are having to get a truck to deliver the fan mail I have waiting for me.” He grins.
I laugh at the way Brad rolls his eyes.
“You might have to get your own tent. I don’t think there will be enough room in here for your ego,” Brad says, using his fingers as air quotations, “and all your fan mail.”
“Don’t be a hater, Bradley,” Harry says on a yawn, standing up to stretch before he begins stripping off his uniform.
Brad launches a balled-up blanket at Harry. “Ow,” Harry whines, and I shake my head. I really do love these clowns and trust them with my life.
“You’re cheating. Show me your hand.” Harry pouts.
“I’m not cheating,” Jack confirms. “You just have a really shit poker face.”
“No, I don’t,” Harry bites back.
“Yes, you do. I could read you like a book.”
We are sitting around a campfire, playing poker, and eating snacks my sister sent in a care package. It’s a nice change from the rations we eat when out on patrol. She put in a bag of her favorite M&M's, and my heart aches opening the card attached. She’s pregnant with her first baby, and she put in a copy of her recent scan photo. I hate that I won’t be there to see my new niece or nephew be born. They will likely be at least a few months old by the time I’m home, and that is why I never want to settle down while I’m in the Marines. I don’t want to miss a thing if I ever start my own family.
“This is a shit game anyway,” Harry tantrums, tossing his cards, and one lands in the fire.
