Page 2 of If You Say So


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puppy.

“Luca, it’s okay,” I promised. “I’ll be okay.”

He walked to me, pressing his forehead against mine as he cupped the sides of my face, and

exhaled softly.

“You’re okay. But I’m not.”

I closed my eyes at those words.

I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry.

I was in an online support group for military wives and girlfriends.

My post last week had gone something like this: My fiancé is leaving for two years. He’s going to

be gone while I finish my schooling. The announcement of his impending departure came as a rather

large surprise, and we didn’t have a chance to marry. Now, he’s leaving in three days, and I’m being left behind. What do I do?

The responses had varied, but all of them had an underlying tone of ‘don’t cry and make him feel

bad for leaving. It’s not his fault. Be strong. Fall apart when he’s gone.’

So that was what I was going to do.

I was going to be strong now.

I was going to be strong, and I was going to hold it all together.

And once he was gone, then I would fall apart.

“I love you, Luca,” I whispered. “And no, I’m not okay. But it’ll be okay.”

He used his thumbs to tip my chin up. Then his mouth was on mine, and everything really was

okay with the world.

For a few seconds, everything was perfect.

Then his lips left mine when the announcement of his departure was only thirty minutes away.

“Love you,” he rasped.

The moment his hands left my face, my heart started to pound.

“Love you, too,” I repeated.

He took a step back, and I took him in one more time, in all his uniformed glory.

“Come back to me,” I told him. “Exactly like this. Whole and healthy. When you get back, we’re

getting married. And then we’ll have babies.”

His grin was nothing short of magnificent.

“Lots and lots of babies.”

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