Page 70 of For the Record
It was. The last time Adam was deployed, we were close, but not like this. Not where I felt like he was stitched into my soul. Where I felt like we were tethered together, and him hopping on that plane meant ripping those seams apart.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He nodded and pressed a firm kiss to my temple. “It was. I’ll call you every night I can. Don’t go on a run by yourself without that pepper spray I left.”
“If I do, will you come back home?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmm. Tempting.” I attempted a wink up at him, but my eyes were cloudy with tears and probably looked pathetic.
He snorted in amusement, pulling back to look down at all of me. The snotty nose and teary eyes I was sporting kept me from looking my best, but Adam’s eyes trailed over me like I was the most striking sight he had ever seen. It wasn’t true. The man had seen me dressed to the nines before, and yet somehow, he still he made me feel the most beautiful here and now.
A hand reached to cup my jaw firmly, fingers spread to the back of my neck. I almost said it then. I love you. It sat right there at the tip of my tongue, ready to work its way out to him and cover him in the words he deserved. Because for so long, I hadn’t known fully what this relationship was, and maybe I still didn’t. But I knew I loved him. I loved him a lot, and wasn’t that enough?
He must have seen it in me, sensed the words sitting right on my tongue, because he nodded. “Me too.”
That only caused my tears to flow faster. His smile pulled back farther before he leaned in and planted a firm yet soft kiss on my lips. It wasn’t a goodbye kiss. It wasn’t a this is the end kiss. It was the kind of kiss that was left open. It had a cliff hanger, like all of my favorite cozy mysteries. One you knew would come back with the most satisfying ending. I wasn’t getting that ending today.
I smiled against his lips, and he pulled me in closer, kissing me once more before pulling back. His big thumbs swiped under both of my eyes, drying my tears. “When I get back…we’ll talk, yeah? About everything?”
I wasn’t sure what everything entailed, but I was ready for it. For him and me, no barriers left.
With one more—okay, three more—quick kisses to my lips, he squeezed me tight around the neck. He whispered in my ear, “I’ll miss you” and reached to grab his bag beside me. I wish I could hold it, and him, hostage.
I pulled at the sleeves of my sweatshirt to keep my hands busy as I watched him walk away, looking over his shoulder and smiling at me. I waited until he was out of sight to start fully sobbing. It didn’t really make sense, I knew that, but I was going to miss him. A lot. Probably more than I had missed anything else in my life. And although a month didn’t sound long, a single six-hour shift without Adam felt long enough.
My shaky legs wobbled me all the way back to Layla’s car, where she looked up with the most patient, sympathetic smile that I’d ever seen. I sat down in the passenger seat without a word, reached for the aux cord, and immediately hit shuffle on the Adam’s gone playlist I made the second I found out he was leaving.
“Annie’s Song” by John Denver filled the car as the clouds above turned dark gray, the sky and music aligning with my heart.
Layla’s hands brushed through my hair, getting caught on the tangled ends. “Oh, Rach.” She leaned in to hug me. “I didn’t realize it was so,” she paused and came up empty, “between you two.” I looked up and met her eyes and nodded. She pouted back at me.
“Come on. Let’s get you home so we can watch compilations of Nick Miller, eat our weight in meat-lover’s pizza, and cry together.” She pulled her hands away and placed them on the steering wheel.
I sniffed. If someone had to be here to see me like this, I was really, really glad it was her.
When we got home, Adam’s home, I was convinced every possible tear in my body had been poured out and my heart was empty, like a damp towel being twisted and strained of every emotion. He’d texted me several times already.
Adam: I’m boarding now.
Adam: There’s a kid two seats in front of me that kind of looks like your dad minus the mustache.
Adam: A very large man is seated next to me, so you can stop your fantasy about me meeting another woman on a plane and mysteriously falling for her, as if you don’t exist.
Adam: I have to put my phone on airplane mode. Gonna call the second I land. Miss you.
Each one twisted my heart more and more. I really did already miss him.
Layla and I walked into the house, a pizza in both of our hands, and set them on the counter. As we did, something caught my eye.
Sitting on the island was an unwrapped Allman Brothers Band vinyl with a yellow sticky note on top that said For when you miss me in Adam’s handwriting.The tears that I thought had magically disappeared came rushing back like a tsunami washing out everything else in my mind. This man, I wanted to keep him.
He must have left it when I was helping put his carry-on in the car. I should have known it was weird of him to let me try, considering he barely let me lift a finger. That sneaky little wonder of a man.
Layla set down her pizza beside mine and looked over my shoulder to read the scraggly note. “Aw,” she cooed. “Is that one rare or something?”
I sniffled. “No, but the one who gave it to me is.”
Currently playing: Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Grows) by Edison Lighthouse