Beneath the Fallen Stars

Ford leads me to a two-seater swing under the big oak tree and waits for me to take a seat. He sits beside me, his long legs moving the swing effortlessly, and pulls me against his side. “Here,” he says, reaching down and grabbing a gift box sitting on the ground.

“What’s this?” I whisper over the hammer pounding in my own chest.

“Open it and see.”

I lift the lid off the white box and find a folded sheet of paper. When I lift it from the box, I realize it’s sitting on top of a book. No, not just a book. A notebook. I lift it up, my hand sliding across the smooth, hard cover, the image of a sunset staring back at me.

“I thought, maybe we could add old-fashioned letter writing to our modes of communication,” he says, pointing to the envelopes in the bottom of the box.

My fingers hold a slight tremble as I open the notebook and reveal a note on the first page.

My beautiful Shayne,

This week has been one of the best of my life. I’ll never forget my time in KY, but most importantly, I’ll never forget my time with you. I hate leaving you behind, but knowing I’ll be able to continue communicating with you makes the distance not seem so empty. The thought of not waking up beside you tomorrow morning is grim, so is the realization I won’t be able to kiss you goodnight. I’ll just have to stock up on plenty of kisses now before I go. But know this, beautiful. Know that wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, you’ll be on my mind. Meeting you was a gift I plan to cherish for the rest of my life.

Every day apart is one closer to being together.

Thinking of you always,

Ford

I’m not sure when the tears started to fall, but they did. Big fat drops of wetness soak into the paper and cause the blue ink to spread. When I look up, those amazing green eyes hold so many emotions, it’s almost overwhelming.

“I picked that up yesterday at the gift shop in town. I think the lady thought I was crazy, asking to buy some of her envelopes too, but she found a box in a drawer and sold them to me,” he states, a sexy little grin on his lips.

I try to hold the box and the items in my hand but feel them fall away as I throw myself against his hard chest and grip his shirt. Ford holds me close, his large hand running down my hair right before his lips press against the crown of my head.

“I’m going to miss you,” I whisper, wishing I was as tough as I pretend to be. But sitting here right now, just minutes away from watching him leave, I realize I’m nowhere near the badass I portray. I may come off gruff, with a take-no-shit attitude at work, but that’s not who I am. I’m a woman whose heart is weeping with loss—a woman who found herself falling more every day for a man who makes her giddy with excitement.

“I’m going to miss you too. But we’re going to write, text, email, and call all the time, right?” he asks, moving to meet my eyes.

I nod, sniffling. “Yes. Every day.”

He smiles and relaxes, pulling me back against his chest. I can feel his heart pounding a steady beat against my cheek. It’s a reminder and a reassurance to his vitality. I commit that sound to memory.

We sit here, slowly swinging under the faint breeze, until the back door opens. It’s Chad, and he’s carrying bags. My aunt, uncle, and cousin follow him and slowly make their way to the Toyota rental car sitting by the barn.

Ford sighs. “Well, I guess it’s time.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat and vow not to cry. I will not cry anymore, not until I’m alone at home. Ford needs to feel my strength right now, not witness my weakness. It’s that strength I want to send him home with, back to his base.

Standing, he scoops up the notebook and box I dropped when I threw myself at him. He places everything back inside and closes the lid before depositing it on the seat beside me.

I scoop up the box, anxious to hold it, needing to feel the slight weight in my arms. Only then do I stand. Our eyes meet once more, the sadness ebbing from our physical beings so thick you could cut it with a knife.

With legs made of lead, we make our way to the rental car, me cradling my box as if it were more precious than gold or fine gems. Ford moves his hand, removing it from my lower back, and heads to my car to retrieve his bag. Everything is in there, ready to go.