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“You don’t have to.” His face was as solemn as I’d ever seen it.
“What? You’re leaving me your car. You’re adding me to your contact list. Of course I’ll be there.” I simply couldn’t fathom a world where I wouldn’t want to see him again. I’d never wanted to be in this position, but hell if I’d send him with anything less than an assurance that I’d be there.
“Yeah, I am doing those things,” he said evenly as he finished dressing. “But not because I want you to feel obligated or guilty. I want you to have options and at least a small way to contact me.”
“Thanks. Knowing something, anything, will help the wait. And I will be there. You can count on that.” Wrapped up in the blanket, I left the bed to stand next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t want to.” His eyes were as hollow as his tone.
“What do you mean?” I asked in a small voice, hand tightening on his shoulder. “You don’t want me?”
“Of course I want you. I’m always going to want you.” He put a hand over mine.
“Then what’s the problem?” My tone was demanding, my resolve to not give him additional stress slipping.
“I knew going into this that eventually you’d need to say goodbye.” His sigh echoed through the room.
“But not now,” I protested. Hell, simply letting him go was going to suck. No way could I cope with a permanent goodbye. My opinions on long distance aside, I refused to break up moments before he had to deploy. That wasn’t fair to him. Or me, really.
“It could be.” He peered deep into my eyes, deeper than I wanted him to. “This could be goodbye, and what I’m trying to say is if it is, if this is goodbye, I’m okay with that.”
“Well, I’m not,” I snapped back. “I’m not okay with goodbye in any sense of the word. This isn’t over. I’m not done.”
“You say that now.” He smiled sadly, his all-too-wise tone grating on my last nerve. “And that’s why I added you to my contact list. Because you should have the choice. And that’s all I want. Seeing me after I come back has to be your choice to come, not an obligation.”
“Because you’re okay if I don’t,” I said miserably. He had shoes on now, and we were moments from him leaving, and this was not how I wanted this to go at all. When I’d first woken up, I’d intended to send him off with an upbeat attitude, nothing heavy, and fall apart later on my own. That he was forcing me to think about the hard stuff now made me angry. At him. At myself. At the situation. I kicked at the carpet, welcoming the abrasion of the rough rug against my bare feet.
He cupped my face in both hands. “You make me happy. Happier than I’ve been maybe ever. I don’t regret a thing about any of this, and if this is goodbye—because it could be—it was worth it to be this happy, and to have had you even for a while. I want you to know that, to feel it.”
Not sure I could speak, I nodded.
“If you do come when I return, I want that. I do. I want more time together. But if you can’t be there, I understand, and I’m grateful we had this time.”
“I’ll—”
He cut me off with a finger to my lips. “No promises, okay? You know I want you there, but no promises right now because I can’t make you any. I don’t know how long this will be and neither of us knows how this will go.”
“I’m not your ex,” I said stubbornly.
“On that we are very clear.” He pulled me even closer, the friction of his clothes against my skin another reminder of how close he was to the door. “I never felt for him what I do for you.”
“I’ve never felt like this before either,” I admitted. No crush or fantasy could ever rival what I felt for Derrick, and in that moment, I hated it. It wasn’t fair to find this and then have to risk losing it.
“I know.” He brushed my face with his thumbs. “And that’s why I’m trying to give you space for however you feel when I’m back.”
“You are coming back.” I said it like the sternest of orders, channeling every military relation I had. I simply refused to entertain a world where Derrick wasn’t okay, where we might not have a chance to make this right.
“God, I hope so.” And then he kissed me like the world was burning down. His mouth was hungry and urgent and tender all at once. Even knowing he had to go and that time was ticking away, I still clung to him. The blanket I’d been holding with one hand fell away and still I kissed him.
