“I shouldn’t have asked. I’m so sorry I made you tell me. I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through that,” I cry softly into his shoulder as he continues to slowly rock us from side to side.

I’m ashamed of myself for crying. I have nothing to cry about. When he’s gone, doing all of these awful things to protect our country, I’m safe and content in my own little bubble on this island, surrounded by the ocean and family and friends.

“Don’t, Lucy. Don’t ever apologize for something like that. I’m going to be fine, just give me time, okay? Just keep loving me and being here, that’s all I need.”

We fall asleep in each other’s arms and Fisher doesn’t wake up again that night or any night for the next few months. I try to tell myself that everything is fine and he’s getting better each day he’s home, putting distance between himself and the war. For a while, it’s an easy enough lie to believe. For an entire year, I have him all to myself, and we’re so happy and settled that I actually believe he’ll never leave me again.

Then he tells me that he volunteered to go back there for a third time.

“I don’t understand, Fisher. Why? Why would you go back there?” I ask, trying not to let him know that this decision is killing me. I choke back the tears as he paces around the kitchen like a caged tiger. I should have known this was coming. Each time he sees something in the news about the war, he gets so anxious that he can’t sit still.

“I have to go back, Lucy, I have to. I can’t be here when my friends are over there fighting for everything I believe in and risking their lives,” he explains.

Hearing him say that he can’t be here breaks my heart. Why isn’t our life together on this island enough for him? I love that he has this need to protect our country and our freedom, but at the same time, I hate it because it takes him away from me.

And sends him back just a little more broken every time.

After all the things he’s been through, he asked to go back. I want to be angry, I want to scream and cry and beg him not to leave me again, but I can’t do that. Deep in my heart, I’m still so very proud of him for fighting for our country. I admire him for doing something so scary and selfless, and the very idea that he would willingly return to that hellhole reminds me of how strong and amazing he is. It also makes me dread what will happen the next time he comes home, makes me fear which pieces of the man I love will be claimed by this war. I worry things will only get worse, and that scares the hell out of me.

“I just don’t understand why you keep doing this to yourself. Why you keep putting yourself through this. What about us? What about our lives? We talked about starting a family, but how can we do that if you aren’t here?” I ask him, hating the weakness in my voice.

“Jesus, Lucy! How can you even think about bringing children into this world right now? What kind of future would they have if this shit never ends?” he argues.

There’s no use in trying to hold back the tears at this point. They fall down my cheeks and Fisher immediately comes over to me and pulls me into his arms.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to yell,” he tells me softly as he kisses the top of my head. “I just need you to understand how important this is to me. I can’t stand the idea that my men, my brothers, are over there without me. They leave their families and they put their lives on hold to fight this war and I need to do the same. I HAVE to do the same. I love you, Lucy, but I need to do this. Please, tell me you understand.”

I hold onto him as tightly as I can as we sway back and forth in the kitchen and I give him a silent nod. He loves me, we’re building a life together and nothing else should matter. We’re strong and we can make it through anything. We will make it through anything because Fisher has always promised me that he will find his way back to me. I believe him with every piece of my heart and I will support whatever decisions he makes because I have faith in him and in us. This is just a tiny bump in the long road of our lives together. We’ll get over it and everything will be fine, I know it.

Chapter 2

Lucy

Present Day

Dear Fisher,

I guess this is it, huh? After almost fourteen years together, starting a life of our own on this island, five tours of duty and countless letters I’ve written you through it all, I finally go out to the mailbox and see something I’ve always dreamed of: an envelope with your handwriting on it. For one moment, I actually thought you’d changed your mind. That all the awful things you said to me were just your way of coping after everything you’d been through. I was still here, Fisher. I was still here, holding my breath, waiting for you to come back even though you told me you never would. You always said you’d find your way back to me. Out of all the lies you’ve told me, this one hurts the most.

Enclosed you will find the signed divorce papers, as requested. I hope you find what you’re looking for. I’m sorry it wasn’t me.

Lucy

I stare at the note in my hand, the creases that run through the words so worn from the number of times I’ve folded and unfolded this thing that I’m surprised the paper doesn’t tear right in half. I can still see little smudges in the ink where my tears fell on the page as I wrote the note last year. I can remember that day like it was yesterday and the pain in my heart is still just as fresh as it was then, even though I’ve convinced myself that I’m fine and I’m happy and I’ve moved on.