My Kind of Love (Finding Love 1)

He stares at me for several seconds, his breathing heavy, before he nods once in understanding. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Okay.”

We go outside on the back porch where it’s bright and quiet. I set up the tripod with my phone and explain all he has to do is press play and then pause for each one. “Do that for each video, and I’ll be able to show him the one while you’re gone without mistakenly showing the second. I’ll save them as separate files.”

“Wait.” He grabs my wrist as I walk away. “You’re not staying?”

“I think it would be best if you do it alone. As if it’s just a conversation between you and him.”

Ryan nods and I go inside. A few minutes later, I peek outside to check on him and find him on the floor with his face in his hands. I rush out, unsure what happened, and find him sobbing.

“Ryan,” I breathe, sinking down in front of him. “What happened?”

“I can’t do it,” he chokes out, refusing to look at me.

“I know it’s going to be hard, but it will be worth it when I can show—”

“Not that,” he mutters. “I can’t leave.” He glances up at me, his eyes red-rimmed. “I can’t do this.” His chest is rising and falling quickly. “I’m going to miss everything. His doctor appointments. When he smiles and laughs. He’s not even going to fucking know who I am!” he booms.

My heart cracks wide-open, but I take several breaths to stay calm. Ryan needs me to be strong right now. He’s been so strong for me—at the beach house, when I was giving birth to RJ—now it’s my turn to be strong for him. “Do you know why I asked you to wear your military uniform?”

He shakes his head as tears of pain run down his cheeks.

“Because I want to make sure RJ knows that his daddy is a hero, and that’s what this outfit symbolizes.”

“I would rather just be his dad,” he admits softly. “And your husband.”

He pulls me into his lap and nuzzles his face into my neck. I don’t know what to say to make him feel better, so I don’t say a word, just letting him cry it out.

Eventually, he calms down and lifts his face to look at me. His cheeks are tear-stained and his eyes are swollen and puffy. He’s no longer crying, but his chin is trembling.

“I hate this,” I tell him. “But you have to go, and God forbid something does happen, RJ will have something from you.”

Ryan nods in agreement. “All right.” He scrubs his hands over his stubbled jaw. “I’ll do it.”

About twenty minutes later, Ryan comes inside and hands me my phone, asking to see RJ. His face is splotchy, telling me he cried some more, but he’s more composed. I call my mom out and she hands RJ over to Ryan with a sympathetic smile. “For what it’s worth,” she says. “We’re all so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” he says, snuggling his son to his chest and inhaling his scent. “But all I want is to get through these next four months and then get back home, so I can start my life.”

His words bring tears to my eyes as I remember not even a year ago when we were at the beach house and he told me the military was his life.

We spend the rest of the day together. Ryan downloads texting and video chatting software to my phone that I can use to contact him when he’s back overseas. Apparently he upgraded his phone to an international plan, and the base he’s staying on has service. It’s shitty, but it’s enough we’ll be able to talk. He also gives me his email so I can send him pictures of RJ. Of course he adds that I should also include pictures of myself.

Instead of him going home, he spends the night with his body wrapped around mine. He wakes up for every one of RJ’s feedings and insists on being the one to change his diaper and burp him.

The morning comes too soon and he wakes me up when it’s still dark out. “Baby, I have to go,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Wake up so I can say goodbye.”

“Wait.” I shoot up. “You’re leaving… like now?”

“I have to be at the airport at five a.m.”

“We’re going with you.” I throw off my blanket and stand.

“No, you’re not,” he says, shaking his head. “If you go, I’ll never get on that fucking plane.”

“Ryan, please,” I beg. “We have to see you off.”

“That’s why I woke you up. But I don’t want to wake RJ up. He’s sleeping and will be cranky.” He swallows thickly, glancing at our sleeping baby, who has no idea his daddy is about to leave and won’t be coming home for several months.