Abbey
March, 2002
The gentle hiss from his shower coaxes me awake. I yawn, roll over, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I shift upright in our bed. The smile pulls at my lips while I contemplate my slick takeover of his shower time that may or may not make him late for work.
I think about dinner tonight, despite how early it is. Braeden has been exhausted lately with all the overtime he's taken on at the plant, so I like to have a nice meal waiting for him. He accepted a manufacturing job in Englewood before the holidays. The money is good. We just moved into our own apartment a month ago, close to my school so he could take the car to work. It's the first time we've lived apart from our families but the transition wasn't as intimidating as they tried to make us believe. Braeden wouldn't allow it.
For precious seconds, this seems like the start of any other day.
My gaze floats to the duffle resting at the base of the bedroom doorway then to his uniform hanging on the back of the door. Immediately, I'm reminded that today is not the norm and I won't need to make dinner for us tonight. That familiar ache plunges into my gut as my mind drifts back to last nights argument, the petty things I said and his heated responses.
I regret starting it, especially now that our time together has almost run out.
I hug my knees to my chest and press my face into them, trying not to cry. I'm terrified of what might happen, if he doesn't make it back this time.
He refuses to discuss the subject with me, and it's the biggest reason we fought. Positivity is the only thing he can handle at this stage. Braeden doesn't accept negatives in his life. It's how he was brought up.
It's one of the reasons I fell in love with him.
The hissing dies away. I hear the shower door slide aside and moments later my boyfriend walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water beads glistening against his muscular torso. For moments I get lost in him, like I'm fifteen years old and he's invited me to watch him at football practice. I admit, he looks better than he ever has. Braeden has been on an intense workout regiment since he got the deployment order, said he wanted to have as much stamina as possible this time. We've spent countless hours at the gym and track together over the last few months, desperate to get as much time together as possible. Only recently have I stopped going with him, but the fatigue and vomiting have set me back a lot.
Despite his strength, his expression is still tired this morning. That's my fault, but I barely slept either.
"Morning," I say, my gaze following him across the room to the dresser.
"Morning." He says it into the mirror as he begins to gather socks and boxers from the drawers. "You sleep?"
"A little."
He nods and crosses the room to retrieve his uniform from its hanger.
"Bray."
"I left the papers in their usual place," he mutters. "Next to the jewelry box."
"Bray, come on."
He drops the towel from his waist, barely glancing at me as he slips his boxers over his lower half. "What?"
"I'm really sorry--I shouldn't have said, you know, that you didn't care."
He sighs, then straightens himself, hands on his hips as he stares back at me. "I know you didn't mean all that. I just---thought you understood that I don't have a say in this. I've been doing this long enough that you should be used to it."
"I'll never get used to it."
We stare at each other. A rare flash of sadness takes over his expression, then he shakes it off, pulling on his undershirt along with his camo's and boots before he takes a seat at the end of our bed. I slide forward, slipping snugly into place at his side and Braeden pulls me into his arms as my head falls against his chest. I finger the dog tags that pop up from the opening in his uniform, praying this is the last time I'll ever have to do this with him.
I know it won't be.
When Braeden finishes his tour he won't go back to the Englewood plant. His plan is to enroll in police academy unless the Army offers him something more lucrative. Moving away from our family isn't what bothers me, it's the dangers of the job. The gut wrenching ache that comes from worrying about him being killed on duty will never go away. Despite those feelings, I love him entirely too much to give up on the relationship. I can't picture my life without him in it.
I'd fall apart.
"I'm sorry," he says. "For all of it."
"Me too."
He runs fingers through my hair and kisses my forehead. "Marry me."
I tilt my head to meet his gaze. "What?"
His lips part to reveal his brilliant smile. "When I come home. Let's get married."
His hand travels down to the slight bump at the base of my belly and I laugh. "I'm planning on it, Sampson."
Braeden sweeps me up in a long kiss, keeping his hand cupped around the base of my tummy, caressing the skin there.
"Did you call the doctor's office?" He asks the question as he steals a kiss against my neck.
I nod. "They scheduled an ultrasound for tomorrow. I haven't told my family yet, did you mention anything to yours?"
"Are you kidding? My mom would call up the pentagon and petition them to discharge me."
He's laughing but I can't join him. My lips tremble as my mind drifts back to matter at hand; in the matter of a few hours he'll be on a plane, en route to Afghanistan for an eighteen month deployment.
"When should we tell them?" I ask.
"I'll handle it. I'll tell them today." He rubs his thumb across my cheek. "They'll have to accept it and support you while I'm away."
I pull him closer to me without responding. Thinking about the repercussions of that conversation is making me sick to my stomach. "I don't think I can do this by myself."
Braeden keeps his eyes locked on mine. "You know it's going to be okay, Ab. Even if I don't make it back in time—"
I shake my head. "I don't want to have our baby without you there."
"That's the worst case scenario. I already requested leave around the time we discussed, just in case. As long as nothing crazy comes up, I shouldn't have a problem."
He leans in for another kiss but I put pressure against his chest with my hand to stop him.
"What's wrong?"
"What if there is a problem?"
"Come on," he says. "Wasn't last night enough for you?"
"I wish you would stop acting like there's no risk involved. You're not invincible, as much as Ethan tries to make you believe that."
He rolls his eyes and pulls himself out of our embrace. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm scared? Shit baby, I am, but I can't go around preaching about it like a coward. They didn't give me a promotion because I was hiding in a bunker and I'm not about to start now just because you think something is going to happen. It's nerves, Abbey. That's all it is."
I hang my head low. "I'm not so sure."
"I'm not doing this with you anymore. God I've—I've done everything fucking thing I can to stay strong for us. I knew I was going to get called up so I made sure I got a good job so we could move in here and have the rent paid up for the year. You don't appreciate how hard I've been working to start a future for us and—maybe you've been too naive since I've been home or too selfish to prepare yourself for this. You saw the towers fall back in September, same as me. This deployment was inevitable."
"I appreciate everything you've done—"
"Yeah? Well I expected more support from you in return. Especially today."
He walks to the door and opens it.
"Braeden!"
He glances over his shoulder, a resentful expression on his face. "If you're coming, I'll meet you at the car in an hour. I'm going to pick up Belle and Jason and say goodbye to the guys."
With that he picks up his duffle and slings it over his shoulder, the door banging shut as he walks out on me.
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