“I love that we can share that, something we can do jointly when we’re not together.” She turns to look at me, and I press my lips to hers.
“I have to go,” I say, my voice cracking.
“I know.”
“I don’t want to. If I had the choice, I would stay here with you. I would never leave you, Shayne.”
“I know that. You’re doing your job, Ford. I support you. You do what you have to do and be safe doing it. Don’t worry about me. I’m going to be here. Waiting for you,” she says as tears coat her cheeks.
“Thank you, Shay. You don’t know how much that means to me.” I kiss her softly and then pull away. “I need to go.”
“Okay.”
I grab my bag, and she walks me to the door. Outside in the hallway, I find Chad and my sister locked in a tight hug. “Ford,” Faith cries and rushes toward me. I drop Shayne’s hand just in time to catch her in my arms. “I love you, brother,” she says through her tears.
“I love you too. Kick this last year of school’s ass. You’ve got this,” I tell her, placing her back on her feet. She looks up at me and gives me a watery smile. “Will you check up on her for me?”
She nods. “You two take care of each other,” she says, giving me one more hug before going to Chad, who is releasing his hold on Shayne.
She rushes back to my side, and I hold her tight. “Will you check in on her for me?” I repeat my question to my sister to Shayne. I’m hoping the two of them can lean on each other this next year.
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in her agreement to check in on my sister.
“We need to go,” Chad says solemnly.
“Come here.” I drop my bag and pull Shayne into a hug. “I love you. I’ll see you again soon.”
“I love you.”
With more effort than I knew I could muster, I pull away from her, pick up my bag, and lean in for one more quick kiss before taking a step back from both of them. “You ladies, behave and take care of each other. I love you both.”
“What he said,” Chad says, and Faith’s eyes go wide. “Take care of each other and behave.” He points at each of them.
With a nod, I turn my back on the love of my life and my sister as my feet carry me to the elevator. I don’t look back while I’m waiting for the doors to open. I can’t. I’m too afraid that I won’t step on. My heart feels as though it’s being crushed in a vise. When the doors finally open, Chad and I step on and turn to face them. They’re hugging one another in the middle of the hallway, tears streaming down their faces as they give us one final wave.
I take a step forward, but Chad’s hand on my arm stops me. “Ford.”
“Fuck,” I mutter as the doors slide shut. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I whisper the confession to my best friend.
“You don’t have a choice, brother,” he says, his hand landing on my shoulder. “It’s one year. We can make it through one year.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You have to, for her. What happens if you go AWOL? You want her to come and visit you behind bars?”
“Fuck. No, that’s not what I want, but dammit, it’s harder to leave her than I thought it would be.”
“One year, Gregory. You’ve got one year. And we have ten minutes to get our asses checked back in at the base.”
Luckily our hotel is just outside the base, so we make it in time. Once in our room, my phone vibrates. When I see it’s from Shayne, I smile.
Shayne: You do what you need to do, Ford Gregory. You do it safely and then come home to me.
Me: Yes, ma’am.
Shayne: I love you.
Me: I love you too.
I don’t know how she knew that I needed to hear that from her, but I did. Her words pull me back into the headspace I need to be in. I miss the hell out of her, but I’m going to do exactly what she says. I’m going to do what I need to do. Then I’m coming home to her, for good. I found something in life, someone I love more than serving my country.
I have one year. Twelve months.
We’ve got this.
Chapter 22
Shayne
Dear Ford,
You’ve been gone a day. One. That leaves about 364 to go, give or take. I realized this notebook only has 150 sheets of paper, so I’m going to have to pick up another one if I’m going to write you a letter a day. And that’s my plan. I’m going to write every single day we’re apart. I know it’s a little dated to write letters so much, especially since we’ll probably text and talk on the phone dozens of times before you get this, but I don’t know. I just like the idea of taking the time to sit and write. We’ve already texted this morning, and I know we’re planning a FaceTime date later in the week, but there’s something about putting it all down on paper that makes me smile.