Chapter 15

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Chad

That sucked.

I knew it was going to be hard to leave her, but damn, I didn't know it would be that hard. Sitting in my seat on the bus, I tilt my head back and close my eyes. I can still see the tears in my wife's eyes.

My. Wife.

She hasn't even held the title for twenty-four hours, and I had to go. For the first time, I regret not hanging up my boots when Ford did. I could have stayed with her, and I wouldn't have to pretend that our being married gave her a chance at her dream. I could have asked her to marry me because she owns my fucking heart. No pretending. No pretense. I could have and would have moved anywhere she needed to go to follow her dreams.

Instead, I re-signed, and I'm on this bus headed to God only knows where, while my new wife is left to pick up the pieces of my life. Thankfully, our families were able to make it on short notice, and I know they'll take care of her, but fuck me, I want to be the man to take care of her.

She's mine. My wife. That's my job.

"How you holding up?" Erik asks me.

Lifting my head, I open my eyes to see him sitting next to me. Erik and I have gotten close since I moved here. Ford will always be my best friend, but Erik, he's quickly sliding into that spot too. "Probably the same as you. This fucking sucks."

"Yeah," he agrees.

My mind keeps taking me back to our wedding. Faith looked gorgeous. It's an image that will forever be engrained in my memory. "She was beautiful. I wish we had more time together before we had to go."

Erik chuckles. "Man, I was there. I saw her. It's good to see you like this. The love of a good woman helps with these deployments. It's nice to know what we have at home waiting for us."

Instantly, I can see what that would look like playing out in my mind. After a long day, Faith would be there waiting for me to get home. We could talk about our days, make dinner together, then I'd make love to her before falling asleep with her in my arms. Only to wake up and repeat that same process the next day, and the next.

I want that life. I want it to be more than just a fantasy in my mind.

"How do you not hate the job for taking you away from her?" I ask him. It's just another thought that keeps racing through my mind.

"Sometimes I do," Erik admits. "I'm torn between serving my country and being there for my wife. We're going to try for a baby. When I get home," he confesses. "I know it's hard because we could get called out at any time, but she wants a piece of me, a piece of us, you know? I know she gets lonely and misses me, but man, a big part of me wants her to have a piece of the two of us in case something happens. If there ever comes a time I don't get to come home to her, she'll always have a piece of us and the love we shared."

"Fuck off. Don't talk like that." My voice holds no malice, but the thought of not coming home to Faith feels like a knife twisting inside my chest. "We're going home to our wives, and we're making all the babies." I know that's his future, and I'm happy as hell for the two of them. As for me, the thought of Faith carrying our baby has my cock stirring, and this is not the time for that to happen.

I want babies with her.

Only her.

I have up to six months to work on a plan to keep her. This marriage is real to me. It's the most selfish thing I've ever done, and I plan to fight like hell to keep her.

Faith Anthony is mine.

My phone vibrates as we pull up to the airfield. Quickly, I check it. My heart squeezes when I see her name. I swiftly changed her contact information from Faith to My Wife. Not that I need the reminder, but I like seeing those two words on my screen.

My Wife: Just wanted you to know I'm thinking about you. Please be safe. Check in when you can.

Me: I'm always thinking about you, wife. I'll be safe, because I have someone really important to come home to. We're getting ready to board. I'll be silent for a while, but I'll check in with you when I can.

My Wife: We're heading to check out the house. Married housing just called and said it's available. I'll text you the address.

Me: Thank you for taking care of that. I'm sorry to dump this on you.

My Wife: Meh, I get to put Ford to work. It keeps him young.

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I love her. Not just love her as my best friend but love her because she's my entire world.

Me: You do that. I'll reach out when I can.

I love you.

My Wife: I miss you already.

Me: I miss you too, baby.

I hate to stop texting her. I have to force myself to put my phone on airplane mode as we board our flight. I could have stood on that bus forever texting her, but that's not my reality. I have a job to do—a dangerous job, and although I love my family and have often felt guilty for leaving them, that guilt has never been stronger than it is right now.

I'm supposed to be lying in bed with her gorgeous body wrapped around mine as we plan our future as husband and wife. Instead, I'm headed to what I'm sure is going to be the hot as hell desert while she starts her new job, her new life, without me by her side.

This fucking blows.

Boarding the plane, I insert my earbuds and close my eyes. I don't want to talk to anyone, anyway. I want to sit in silence and pout because I miss my wife. I miss the feel of her soft skin and the taste of her lips against mine. I'm worried she'll forget what it feels like to be in my arms. I'm worried that she's going to build this new life that I'm not a part of.

It's going to be hard, but I'm going to write to her as much as I can, even if I can't mail them right away. I'm going to remind her every fucking day that she's my wife. Then, when I get home, we'll talk about forever, because that's what we are.

We're forever.

She just doesn't know it yet.

The desert.

It's dry and hot as fuck. We made it to where we're going to be for the next four to six months, and I've never missed home more. I'm trained for this. I knew what to expect, but to be here and be living it, that's altogether different.

We're set up in tents, with cots inside for when we get to sleep. There are long hours ahead of us. We have a command station tent that has a couple of computers and a few cell phones, but we're so far out, I don't know what kind of connection there will be. That knowledge has my heart racing. I can't go that long without communication with her. I can't do it.

"Hey, they said mail leaves and delivers once a week," Erik tells me. He tosses his bag on his cot that's next to mine and starts to unpack his belongings into the trunk at the foot of his cot.

"Once a week." I nod. "That's better than never."

"Yeah, that's seven days without hearing from them. Last time, Hannah wrote so many letters, I got a stack each mail day. I would save one a day, going in order of the postmarks just to feel like I have a new piece of her each day. I responded to every one of them in a separate letter in case she wanted to do the same."

I'm already nodding before he's even finished talking. "I like that idea. I'll do that too."

Lifting my bag up on the cot, I unzip to start unpacking, and a white envelope catches my attention. I pull it out, and stare at the handwriting that's undeniably my wife's.

Turning, I sit down on the bed and stare at the envelope. I don't know why, but I lift it to my face and inhale deeply, trying to catch her scent. It smells like her. Closing my eyes, I can almost feel her sitting next to me.

"I got one too." Erik holds up his envelope.

My voice is thick when I reply. "Our wives—they're something else."

"I'm glad they have each other while we're gone."

"Yeah," I agree.

"I think I'll take a walk to read mine."

I think I reply, but I can't be sure. Instead, I block out every single thing around me, except for the letter I'm holding in my hands. Carefully, I open the envelope and pull out the white sheet of paper and start to read.

Chad,

You're not gone yet, and I already miss you. Tomorrow is our wedding day, and I wasn't sure if I'd find the time to write this, so here I am. I'm sitting in our hotel room, and I have so much I want to say but can't seem to find the words.

When you asked me to come and see you, I never could have imagined that we'd end up being married, and you being deployed, all within a matter of two weeks. It's almost scary how fast life can change, and plans can be derailed.

Although, I admit, I'm not mad about this derailment. I've accepted my dream job, and it's just a few short months. Okay, well, half a year at most, and you'll be home.

I can do that.

My plan is to throw myself into my work so that maybe I won't miss you as bad. It sounds good when I say it in my head, but reading it as I'm writing it, I know that nothing will keep me from missing you. Nothing except for you being here with me.

I guess I should warn you to expect a lot of letters. I want you to have as much of home with you while you're away as I can. I want you to feel like you're here with me.

I want to feel like you're here with me.

Please know that I'll miss you every second of every day.

Come home safe. Come home to me.

I can't wait to marry you tomorrow.

Always,

Faith

My hands clutch the letter as if it were her. I'm not ready to let her go just yet, so I read the letter twice more, before folding it neatly, and placing it back in the envelope. I check the reception on my cell phone and there's nothing in this tent. I hope there is somewhere here where I can get a signal to call her. If not, looks like I'll be in the common tent with everyone else trying to connect with their families. Digging inside my bag, I find my notebook and envelopes and immediately write her back.

My wife,

I hate that I had to leave you so soon. I regret that we didn't have more time together. I miss you too. So much, in fact, I can feel the ache in my chest. Thank you for your letter. Holding it felt as though you were here with me. It was almost as if you were giving me one final hug.

I keep seeing images of you this morning when you woke up in my arms. Your hair was a mess, and you didn't have a speck of makeup on, and all I could think about was how beautiful you were. How lucky I am to call you mine. I am you know, I'm the luckiest man on the planet. I'll never forget what it was like to wake up with you in my arms, knowing you were my wife.

I miss you so damn much.

We made it to where we're going. It's hot as hell, and nothing but sand for miles. I'll reach out to you every chance I get. If I go silent for a few days, know that I'm always thinking of you. I don't know how good the reception is here. From the looks of where we are, it's not real promising.

Mail runs once a week, so if my letters are delayed, you'll know why.

I need to unpack, but I had to reply to your letter first. Finding that letter in my bag was exactly what I needed. Married for a day, and you're already taking care of me. Is this what I have to look forward to for the next sixty years?

All of my love,

Chad

I read over my words and hesitate when I get to the last paragraph, but I decide to go with it. I won't tell her how I really feel in a letter. I won't do that unless I think there is a chance I won't make it back home to her. However, I'm not going to hold back either. I need her heart just as invested as mine.

I need her to be mine for more than just this deployment. A lifetime with Faith won't be long enough. Folding the paper, I stuff the envelope and address it with the one she sent me, anxious to get it in the mail. It's still hard for me to believe that I get to call her mine.

Quickly, I unpack, shoving my bag beneath my cot and head off in search of cell reception. From the time change, I know it's late in California, but I need to hear her voice. I walk about a hundred yards from where we're staying and get my first line of signal. I stop walking and dial her number, hoping the call goes through.

She picks up on the first ring. "Chad."

My body relaxes. The tension rolls away at the sound of her voice. "How's my wife?"

She laughs.

Fuck, I wish I could bottle that sound.

Maybe I can ask her to do a voice recording and send it to me. Hearing her laugh would definitely help get me through what's to come while we're here.

"Exhausted. We moved everything from the hotel to the house. It's so cute, a two-bedroom. It almost looks like a cottage."

"Is everyone still there?"

"Ford and Shayne are here. They're in the guest room on an air mattress they picked up in town. Our parents all went back to the hotel, and your sister too. I offered her to sleep with me in our bed, but she said someone had to keep our parents in line." She chuckles, as if the thought of our parents causing trouble is hilarious, and it is. I'd be laughing too, but I'm stuck on her saying "our bed," and wishing like hell I'd had a few more days, hell, months, to be with her before I had to deploy.

"That's good. I'm glad you're not alone. How is the house? Is it in decent shape?"

"Yeah," she replies softly. "It's really cute, actually. The previous tenants left some furniture. It's nothing fancy, but I like it. How are things?"

I spend a few minutes telling her about the hot desert sun, the dry sand, and our living conditions. "It's not home," I tell her. What I don't say is that even living in this dust bowl, if she were here, it would feel like home.

She's my home.

"Did you get my letter?"

"I did. Thank you. It was exactly what I needed."

"Good, because I might have already written you another one."

"Read it to me."

"What? No. I'm going to put it in the mail in the morning."

"I wrote you back, too, but we only get incoming and outgoing mail once a week."

"Well, I guess that means you're going to be getting a lot of letters on mail day."

"Good. It makes me feel close to you."

"Read it to me." She tosses my words back at me. "Oh, and thank you for the stack of envelopes."

"I did that while you were gone. I had some nervous energy. It made me feel like I was doing something to help you prepare to leave. There are some in your bag that are blank, with just stamps as well. I'll send you more in my package next week."

"You don't have to send me anything."

"I'm your wife; of course I do."

My. Wife.

I love saying it. I love hearing it, but hearing it from her lips, that does something to me. Something that has my pulse racing. I've always wanted her. From the moment we met, she was the only woman I could see. Now she's mine, and I'll be damned if I let her go without a fight.

"I should let you get some sleep. I'm exhausted, and I need to report in thirty minutes to get our orders."

"Please stay safe."

"Always."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too. I'll call again when I can."

"Okay." I can hear the crack in her voice. I want to tell her not to cry for me, but I can feel those same emotions welling inside me too. The pain of being away from her is almost too much to bear.

"Bye, baby."

"Bye."

My hand shakes as I force myself to remove the phone from my ear and end the call. I slide my phone into my pocket and head back to the tent. The sooner I get my assignment, the sooner this starts, and I can get home to her. I'm hoping for four months, not the six they say is possible. Four months is too long, and six seems like a lifetime.