Well, shit, when he puts it like that, he’s not trying to buy my love. He’s trying to make sure we’re taken care of. But what he doesn’t understand is that when Ian died, I didn’t care that I had no money or a house or a new car…
“I appreciate all of that, but all I want is for you to come home safe. No amount of money can bring Ian back, and it can’t bring you back either if something happens to you.”
“No, but it will give me peace of mind to know you are both taken care of while I’m gone, or if, God forbid, something does happen to me. You may not need all of this now, but I need you to know it’s available to you if you ever do need it.”
I frame his face with my hands. “Thank you.” I place a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll sign whatever you want to give you that peace of mind, but please know all I want is for the father of my son to come home.”
“I will,” he says. “I prom—”
“Don’t.” I cut him off. “Don’t make promises you know you damn well may not be able to keep.”
He takes a deep breath, and I can tell he wants to argue, but instead he says, “All right, how about we go downstairs and I’ll show you your new SUV? I drove it over here.”
“Sounds good.”
We spend the rest of the day celebrating Christmas with our family. We have dinner at my grandparents’ house, where Ryan’s family joins us.
The days following are spent making as many memories as possible. Every picture I take, I print and add to his photo album. Every morning I text Ryan with a different excuse to come over. We never discuss him leaving, or what will happen once he does. We just simply enjoy each other and our son.
Unfortunately, like anything good in life, it all eventually has to come to an end. And that’s proven the day after New Year’s, when I wake up and realize Ryan leaves in twenty-four hours.
Ryan
You don’t realize how quickly vacation can pass by until you’re at the end of it, wishing it would go on forever. It’s been two weeks since I found out I was going to be a dad. Since I became a dad. In those two weeks, RJ has gained a pound and a half. His eyes stay open for longer periods of time. And when he’s hungry, he definitely makes it known. Those two weeks have been spent with Micaela and me hanging out every day. We eat, watch television, go for walks, all while spending time with our son. It would seem like doing that shit would be boring, but it’s not. It’s fucking perfect and there’s no other way I could imagine spending my days. These past fourteen days have been the best of my life. It’s like we’ve created the most perfect bubble. One I wish we could live in for the rest of our lives.
Unfortunately, that comfy little bubble I’m loving the hell out of living in is burst wide open with a single text from Micaela: Come over and wear your military uniform.
And with those seven words, I’m forced back into reality. A reality where I realize I’m leaving tomorrow. I only had fourteen days, and all I want is more…
Micaela
Ryan walks through the door wearing his military uniform. I don’t know what it’s called officially, but it’s a camouflage button-down jacket with matching pants. There are patches on both arms, but I don’t know what any of it means, and combat-looking boots finish the ensemble.
I was worried when I texted him to come over wearing his military uniform, he would ask me why, but he didn’t. And that’s good because I wouldn’t have been able to explain it through text. Even now, I dread what we have to do, but we only have less than twenty-four hours until he leaves, so it’s now or never.
“Where’s RJ?” he asks, looking around for our son. “And why am I wearing these? I don’t leave until tomorrow.”
“He’s in my mom’s room with her. She felt it would be best.”
“Why?” He glances at me, his eyes filled with worry and confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“Other than you leaving…” I force out a laugh. “Nothing. We need to make a couple videos.”
“Videos?”
“Yeah, one for RJ to watch while you’re away, and…” I swallow thickly, trying not to lose it. “One if you don’t make it back.”
Ryan’s eyes widen in shock, his face contorting into an angry glare. “The fuck?” He steps closer to me. “I’m not making a video in case I die.”
“Okay, so you’ll just die and not have any final words for your son, who is only a baby and will never have any recollection of ever having met you, aside from the pictures I’ve taken. He’ll have nothing from you. Not your voice, or your words, nothing.”