More Than I Wanted (16 page)

Seeing
him walk around the corner in just a towel snapped me back to the
moment. “You’re looking delicious,” I said.
“Breakfast will be ready in just a couple of minutes.”

Walking
to the fridge, he took out some juice and poured a glass. “Thanks
for making breakfast.”

It
was a delight to make him breakfast, hell, I wish I could do it every
day. I wish…stop, stop that…let it go. There’s
nothing you can do to change his deployment orders. Accept it, don’t
fight it. I took a deep breath and changed my thought process the
best I was able.

I
plated up the French toast and joined him at the table. “Not
getting dressed?”

“No
need,” he smiled. “I intend to spend what time we have
left naked together,” he laughed. “And to that point, why
do you have clothes on?”

“I
was cooking,” I offered, sitting down to join him.

“You’re
finished,” he reminded. “Maybe you should take them off.”

“You
want me to strip now, or can I at least eat my breakfast first?”

“If
you’re naked, I can imagine drizzling syrup over your breasts
much easier.” His smile was sweet.

“Funny
boy,” I bemused and stood up to remove my clothing.

“Oh,
that’s much better.” His schoolboy grin said it all.

“Glad
I could help,” I winked and sat down to eat.

Austin
stood for a moment, whipping off his towel, “I’ll be
right back.”

I
watched him walk by, not sure if I was hungrier for my guy or my
breakfast. I was stuck between lust and love, and the fear of losing
him after today. My stomach churned, and then it would pass for a
moment, and I’d be caught up in our time together, only to be
jerked back to reality again. It was like a maddening see saw.

“Close
your eyes,” I heard as he rejoined me from behind.

“What?
Why?”

“Just
close them,” he nudged.

“Fine,
they’re closed,” I said, sensing him moving closer.

He
moved my hair to the side and over my shoulder. Tenderly he leaned in
and kissed my neck, and then draped a necklace around me, attaching
the clasp in the back. “For you,” he said after moving my
hair back from my shoulder. “You can open your eyes again.”

“What
is it?” My hand instinctively went up to feel what he’d
placed there. Lifting it up, I saw a gorgeous ruby red heart. It was
held in place with a delicate gold chain. “It’s so
pretty,” I said fingering the piece of jewelry.

“You
are the keeper of my heart,” he started. “You hold on
tightly to that, because I’m leaving it with you while I’m
gone.”

I
stood and turned to face my lover, accepting his embrace, and as he
held me tight I melted. His hug grew stronger, almost like he was
afraid to let go. Finally releasing his grip, he leaned in and kissed
my forehead. “Let’s eat,” he said quietly.

“It’s
beautiful,” I said. “Can I go peek at it in the mirror?”

He
smiled and nodded.

I
raced to the hallway and looked at the necklace adorning my neckline.
It was gorgeous, and I instinctively reached up to hold it. I sat
back at the table wearing a grin, and ate my breakfast naked. I kept
reaching up and touching it, and was grateful to have something small
to hold on to while he was gone.

I
tried not to look at the clock, really I did, but I couldn’t
help glancing over and over. I was watching the minutes tick by way
too quickly, and knew that in a few hours he’d be leaving. I
ached to have him here until later, or tomorrow, or next week, but my
reality was that we had mere hours left until next year. Next year –
the weight of that statement hit me like a brick. I swallowed my fear
and frustration, and pushed it aside for the time being. I could
analyze it all I wanted later – but not now.

“You
keep touching it,” he said, watching my hand move up to my
neckline over and over.

“I
love it. You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did.”
I said softly. “It’s like a little piece of you will be
here with me.”

“It
looks great on you. Besides, I wanted you to have something special
from me before I left.” He paused, “I will be back,
there’s nothing that could keep me from getting to you.”

I
nodded. “I know,” I whispered, choking back tears that
wanted to show themselves. “I’ll be here waiting.”

I
reached across the table, and he took my hand, and together we sat in
silence for a moment. It was a monumental day. It was our last
morning together for a long time, and there was so much to say, but
so many more words didn’t need to be spoken. They sat in the
air between us. We knew, knew what the other was feeling, thinking…
our hearts were heavy knowing a long separation was sneaking up on
us.

I
cleared my throat and stood. “Are you finished?”

Picking
up the plates, I rinsed them in the sink, stacking them for later.
Together we went back to bed to spend our precious moments naked and
clinging to one another.

How
do I say good-bye? How will I form those words when it’s time?
I couldn’t fathom it, and again glanced at the clock. Stop
looking, it’s not helping!

Our
kisses ranged from sweet to hungry, and yet no other movements were
made. We simply stared into each other’s eyes, trying to
memorize the tiniest details. We held one another, talking quietly,
and when his watch beeped, I felt my heart leap in my chest. It can’t
be time, not yet.

“One
hour,” he said. My stomach turned and I felt sick. How could we
only have one hour left? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t enough
time.

We’d
made plans to spend a certain portion of the time together, but he
also needed time to gather stuff, take care of some last minute
things, and he promised he’d check in with his parents too.

My
heart was racing, and I felt panic rush through me. I was
overheating, and I forced myself to breath deeply and regain my
composure. No getting out of control, you need to stay calm. He has
enough on his mind. I bit the inside of my cheek out of habit, and
pocketed my stress until later. If there was one gift I wanted to
give him, it was a sense of calm, and telling him I’d be okay.

As
if on cue, we made love again, knowing we were so limited on time. It
was as if just one more time might make it better… but I knew
the truth. It didn’t matter if we had one or fifty more orgasms
at this point, an hour was an hour. In two hours, he’d all
ready be gone – and a year is a year.

Clinging
desperately to Austin, I felt our time slipping by, and soon we were
climbing out of bed. Slowly pulling his jeans on, I suddenly
remembered my camera on the coffee table. “Pictures,” I
blurted out. “We need pictures.”

After
dressing, we snapped a handful of photos as Austin held the camera up
and out. How had I not taken more during these last few months? I was
grateful we got these. My heart was breaking, I knew this was it. I
wasn’t ready, not yet. I’d give anything for a few more
minutes, another hour, or one more day.

We
walked out of the bedroom together, through the living room, and then
stopped at the kitchen not far from the door. Lifting me onto the
counter, Austin slid between my legs, gently gripping underneath one
of my thighs. Looking into my eyes, there was silence. Slowly his
other hand came up to my face. Stroking my cheek, he slid his fingers
to the curve of my face, cupping it delicately.

One
last kiss and he’d be leaving. His hand slid out from under my
thigh, and he placed it on the other side of my face. Tilting my head
just the slightest bit, he leaned in and gave me a tender, sweet
kiss.

Austin
pulled back, watching me, and then kissed me again with hunger and
yearning. Our lips parted, and we got lost in the lingering passion.
His mouth moved to my cheeks, my neck, and then down across to my
chest. He went back up along my neck and then stopped, whispering in
my ear that he loved me. Those little words meant so much in these
final moments.

I
choked up, but forced myself not to cry. Wrapping my arms tightly
around his shoulders, I didn’t want to let go. I held on,
fighting for another second, another hour, anything –
desperately not wanting our time to end.

One
last taste, and as our lips brushed together gently, I felt the hot
tears stream down my face. I tried, I really did, but in that instant
it hit me like a sledgehammer that he was leaving for an entire year.
He wouldn’t be back for one more kiss, one more night, one more
anything. This was it.

I
had to let go. Finally, I forced myself to release him. Dropping my
head down, I took a deep breath and hopped down off of the counter. I
tried, I really did, but the tears kept coming. I tried not to sob,
and standing before him with a tearstained face, I whispered my love
in return.

As
he turned towards the door, my heart shattered. Watching him walk out
the door was one of the most painful experiences in my life. There
was nothing I could do to stop him, and I knew I had to let him go.
Clinging wouldn’t make it any easier. I swallowed hard and
watched as his hand reached for the doorknob.

It
felt like slow motion, the movements, the door opening, and then he
was gone. The moment he walked out, everything inside of me felt
broken. Closing it behind him, I fell to the floor crying, sobbing
heavily, and knowing that it was the last time we’d be together
for way too long. How could I possibly survive and entire year
without him, without his touch, his kiss, his body lying next to
mine?

I
heard his car start and then head down the driveway. My heart was
crushed into tiny pieces. I couldn’t breathe. There was no
tomorrow, no one more kiss, it was finished until next year –
next
year
. I knew loneliness would set in, but Austin was
worth the wait. I’d never loved a man more.

With
my back pressed to the door, I sat and stared at the floor until I
had nothing left in me. Slumping to the ground, I stared at the
ceiling. After what felt like forever, I finally righted myself and
pushed up off of the floor. I’m not sure how I found the
strength – I felt nothing but weak in the moment, weak and
broken.

One
day turned into the next. I jumped between depression and anger.
Anxiety popped in there a few times, mixing it up. The first few
days, I barely wanted to get out of bed, but I had to function. Work
didn’t stop, life didn’t stop, and I couldn’t as
much as I wanted to.

My
running, something I desperately needed during this time slowed down.
I had so much trouble just getting out of the house in the morning.
The days I made the effort before or after work, I felt better,
stronger, but then I’d let depression lock me back in the house
again.

I
was fortunate for the times Austin and I were able to connect via
video chat, or when he could call, but there were days I wouldn’t
hear from him, and I’d be sick to my stomach waiting to hear
his voice. When the phone would ring, or a text would come through, I
was giddy with excitement and relieved to hear him once again.

Heather
did her best to support me during my emotional time, but she had
enough going on. She didn’t need to babysit my feelings. The
baby was due in just a few weeks, and she should be celebrating,
joyful, not pandering to my rollercoaster of tears. I tried to hold
it together the best I could, and saved most of my breakdowns for the
privacy of my home, sitting alone.

The
day before Heather gave birth, she’d had trouble sleeping.
Well, truth be told, she had trouble sleeping a lot near the end of
her pregnancy. Only this time, she was on edge and up all night
nesting. She figured it would be another sleepless night, just like
the others, only this time there was a reason for it. The baby would
be here soon!

She
woke Scott around four in the morning telling him it was time. She’d
felt the contractions starting slowly, but when they were gripping
her with force, she was pretty sure she’d be giving birth soon.
She was partially right, today was the day, only it was a long
process. She didn’t give birth until five in the afternoon.
After a daunting labor, Heather and Scott welcomed their daughter
into the world.

When
Amber Jo was born, I was smitten. Baby AJ was quite possibly the most
precious thing I’d ever seen. Holding her, I was amazed with
her size. Her tiny feet and hands seemed unbelievably small and
sweet. She had this new baby smell, and had the most velvety soft
hair I’d ever seen or felt. She was pure perfection. I
whispered “I love you” over and over, kissing her sweet
cheeks.

“Hey
Amber Jo, I’m your Aunt Kate,” I cooed to her.

Heather
smiled as I held her daughter. “Isn’t she incredible,”
she beamed. She looked tired but happy.

“She’s
amazing,” I whispered.

“Thanks
for coming up.”

“Like
I wouldn’t? When do they set you free?” I asked,
snuggling with our new treasure.

“They
keep you about twenty-four hours after you give birth; it depends on
your insurance. Anyway, I’ll be ready. I’m sure we’ll
sleep better at home. I’m exhausted.”

“I’ll
bet, you worked hard,” softening my voice, “didn’t
your mommy work hard Amber Jo?”

“Do
you like the name we chose? We figure we can also call her AJ for a
nickname,” she smiled.

“I
do, it fits her perfectly.”

It
was such a beautiful moment, and for the first time in a long time I
felt happy and at ease. “Can I take some pictures to send to
Austin?”

“Absolutely,”
she said.

Scott
snapped a picture of me holding AJ, and I took one of the three of
them together. I couldn’t wait to show him when I got on video
chat next time.

Heather
had set aside six weeks of maternity leave, and she and Scott were
trying to see if they could manage things financially if she stopped
working, or at least went part-time. Now that baby Amber was in her
arms, she couldn’t imagine not spending every waking moment
with her.