Page 3 of Longing for More
It felt as heavy and cold as the snow that continued to fall outside.
Especially as the sounds of all of the little kids running around, talking to Santa and giggling amongst themselves, filled my ears. And to top it off, my six-foot-two, blonde-haired boyfriend who I loved more than anything had been on a mission for four months, and I longed to be held in his arms.
So, yeah—I just wanted to binge Christmas movies, ranging all the way fromHome Aloneto cheesy, Hallmark rip-offs on Netflix, with fuzzy blankets and hot cocoa, next to my own Christmas tree, and go to sleep.
The joys of being a military girlfriend to a man often stationed overseas were few and far between. And this was yet another holiday…alone. Paired with knowledge that had just been gifted to me weeks earlier, a dread like no other weighed on me.
As much as I respected and loved my Marine more than anything, and in turn, supported everything he was doing for us and our country, I had more moments than not of “fuck the military lifestyle” lately. It certainly didn’t get any easier with time, regardless of how badly I wished I could withstand it. Granted, I would never do anything to jeopardize the love we both carried for each other. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t long for…more, sometimes.
With a dramatic sigh, I tipped my head back and stomped towards the door, sliding the lock to the side before opening it. It swung open with a soft creak, reminding us that we were still in a communal bathroom, and I looked at Natalie with a pointed stare through the false lashes decorating my glittery eyelids.
Even if I was going to be a sad bitch today—I was going to be a pretty sad bitch.
Halsey would have been proud of me.
Natalie stared at me with a concerned expression on her face, lips turned downward in a worried pout. Her Santa hat matched mine, although her tan complexion and blonde, straight hair were far less of a contrast to my own onyx waves. As with most Marine Corps events with active, on-duty personnel, we were dressed in similar, sparkling cocktail dresses with mine ending at mid-thigh and hers long and flowing. Though, given the festive nature of the night, white fishnets decorated my legs. The white combat boots I wore probably toned down the formal attire, but I would have rather been caught dead than wearing heels. Fuck that.
She spoke again, softer this time, forcing my eyes back to hers. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
I immediately shook my head, forcing the ball of the Santa hat to rock gently.
If I was going to talk about it to anyone, it would be Natalie. We were both military partners, after all. We both knew of the heartache that came from lonely nights during the colder months, and she was right along with me this season as her husband was in Special Operations. She hadn’t even heard from him in six months, so I shouldn’t have felt as empty as I did compared to her.
It didn’t erase anything, though.
But I was always the one who preferred to suffer in silence, while she shouted her worries off the rooftops, drunker than a skunk.
Which…was probably why the love of my life had just snitched on me. At twenty-four-years-old, and being with this man for nearly four years, he somehow knew me better than I knew myself. It was annoying as much as it was charming. Though, I blamed his age.
He had some weird wisdom at thirty-six, and it freaked me out sometimes.
I sighed and shrugged, moving past her and towards the mirror to actually touch up my makeup and wash my hands. “I’ll be alright. You know me.”
“Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m asking you.”
I shot her an apologetic smile in our reflection before fixing the Santa hat on my head next. I was delaying the event that waited for us just outside the confinements of our privacy as long as I possibly could.
It would be good for me. I would need to put my game face on to the best of my ability in the beginning.
Natalie was my best friend, so I always let her see a version of me that very few people were privy to. I’m sure, if she fed me enough alcohol, she would get the truth out of me by the end of the night. But there were children just outside who didn’t have presents for them under the tree, waiting for games and pictures with Santa, and I would be damned if I made them cry from my own tears.
Even if kids weren’t on the table for Ryder and me—that didn’t mean I didn’t have a soft spot for them.
Plus, I also knew that if I didn’t listen to Natalie soon, her patience was going to snap clean in half and she would probably send a grunt in here after me. Then I would have to kick someone’s ass on Christmas Eve—which sounded exhausting.
“I was promised a White Russian?” I asked, forcing a smile and turning back towards her.
She shoved my shoulder lightly before grabbing my hand and leading me back into the chaos, giggling and accepting all I could give her. “Fine, but you’re on face-painting duty first.”
I groaned, even as a genuine smile finally formed on my face.
TWO
RYDER
I had been watchingher all night, hoping that whatever deity that ruled over us—God, the Devil, Odin, or even an all-powerful glory hole worker named Glen, should he be pulling a Bruce Almighty on us—that she would have listened to me and come sit on Santa’s lap.
On my lap.