They found Naples cold and wet when they landed for their stopover. It was a sombre reflection of Jenna’s mood, but she didn’t want to dwell on the weather or the countdown to saying goodbye.

They confirmed their spots on military transport back to Turkey for the next day, then checked in to military lodgings across from the air base.

“I should do some shopping,” she said as she stretched out on the bed. “Stock up on chocolate.”

Sean nodded as he unpacked his bag. He had everything in a sub-divided container. His shave kit, a smaller bag for socks and underwear, his phone and tablet in a neoprene case that had cable and charger slots built in. Neat, organized. Precise.

She watched as he pulled out the last bag from the bottom of the larger knapsack. His running gear. Sean was the only person she knew who traveled with two pairs of running shoes, and only used them for running. He had an indoor pair for treadmill training, which she hadn’t actually seen him use, and an outdoor pair that had seen a decent number of hours given the guy was on vacation.

He held the running gear bag long enough she knew he wanted to get outside.

She climbed off the bed and crossed to him. “If you don’t need to go shopping, we could split up. I’ll shop while you get a run in.”

He gave her a startled look. Did he not know that she saw him, and loved him, for who he was? “It’ll be my last chance for a few months,” he said, almost apologetically. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“No, of course not.” She frowned and tugged on his shirt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just in a weird mood.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I’m going to miss you like crazy.”

“Same,” she whispered. “I was thinking that the cold drizzle was a fitting backdrop today. You’re a little crazy to want to run in it.”

“I’m in a run through the cold, wet rain kind of mood.”

She kissed his lopsided grin. “I suppose it’ll be hot soon, and you’ll miss the rain.”

“If each day of sweltering hell is another day closer to being back with you, I’ll gladly take it.”

He got changed, and they headed outside together, where the rain had let up. He took off on a loop around the base, and she watched him disappear around the corner. A minute later, the shuttle bus arrived and she hopped on.

It took nearly two hours to find everything she wanted to take back to Urfa, and she was worried she’d taken too long, but when she got back to the hotel, Sean was still running.

Instead of heading back upstairs, she found a seat on a bench under an overhang and she watched him. He hadn’t seen her yet, she didn’t think. She’d spotted him as the shuttle approached, disappearing around the far corner of the base, and now he’d nearly completed the lap.

Jesus, he was fast. He didn’t even break stride when he finally saw her, just waved. “One more time,” he gasped.

It only took him a few minutes. When he stopped in front of her, he was drenched with sweat. But his grin was back.

Back in their room, she stripped down with him, and washed his back as he stood under the hot shower. He rolled his neck as she slicked soap bubbles over his muscles there then leaned forward as she moved down his body. His legs were a thing of beauty, defined muscles and warm, smooth flesh covered in soft, golden fuzz.

He shivered as she swept her hands up the insides of his thighs, then up onto the hard, flexing tightness of his butt. That made her achy in an instant. And suddenly it felt like they hadn’t had any time together at all.

She swallowed hard as she stood again and pressed against his back, her arms wrapping around his waist. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, and her voice cracked. It sounded like a cry, and she hadn’t meant it to. She wouldn’t cry, that was silly.

They’d see each other soon. They’d have all the time in the world together… soon.

“The summer feels so far away,” she admitted, her words as jagged as the first rough sound had been.

Sean pivoted under the shower and picked her up, his hands sure and his body strong even after a long run. “We’re going to be together again before you know it.”

He kissed her hard as he pressed her against the tiles, cold against her back. He radiated heat. He radiated confidence and energy, and she knew she needed to trust him.

“Count in weeks,” he whispered into her neck as he pushed inside her. “Seventeen weeks until we’re together again.”

Could she hold her breath that long? She closed her eyes and pulled him close. She didn’t need to make it easier. If she wanted to count in days, hours, minutes, she would. Maybe the prick of panic would feel good. A hundred days. Three thousand hours without her husband.

“We’ll write.” God, his voice was cracking now, too, just like her heart. If he couldn’t be carefree about this, there was no hope for her.

It wasn’t fair to find love like this. There was no pause button for how big their feelings were.

“We’ll send pictures, too,” she whispered.

He cupped her face, kissing her until she smiled. Then he slid his hand down her body, stroking her neck, her breast, her waist, before he hitched her leg up and thrust deeper.

She arched between him and the tiled wall, welcoming him into her body. Her husband. “I love you,” she breathed.

He said it back, an echo she didn’t know she needed until the words ripped from his mouth and made her cry out. Deep inside her, he swelled, making the final few drags desperate and perfect and everything she needed. A rough, hard, overwhelming push into release.

She wound her legs around him, holding him tight as her body shook. He buried his cock deep as he followed her orgasm with his own, filling her with his seed.

“I love you,” he growled again.

She’d hold on to those words, too. And the memory of him running like the wind.

* * *

The return to work was easier than expected. It helped that Jenna’s expectations were rock bottom, of course. But she’d come back from Spain with a new sense of hope and boundless energy.

Of course she ached for Sean. She dreamed of him at night and woke up reaching for him every morning.

But she filled her days with patient care and her evenings with long, rambling emails to her new husband. Sometimes he was able to reply, other days she knew she'd be sending the message into the void and that was okay. It made her smile to think of him coming back from a reconnaissance mission and finding a few emails waiting.

When he was able to reply, his letters were long and loving and funny, filled with promises for the future. It was hard to believe that this was her life. That this was her love and yet every day that passed proved she wasn’t dreaming.

Days turned into weeks, and she counted them down just as Sean had told her to. Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen. He warned her that he would have to disappear from time to time, and he did. The first long break was stressful. Nine days went by without a response to her emails but then he returned and sent along some pictures of himself in the field.

Tall, smiling, handsome.

And pink along his cheekbones. He was getting a sunburn.

If she were at home, she would send him a care package with sunscreen. Instead, she was stuck not that far from him in the grand scheme of things, but limited in terms of access and support.

At the twelve weeks to go mark, she found a new normal. A month had passed since they’d said goodbye. Sometimes she walked to the corner of the compound where she could see the air field where they’d stolen one last embrace before she was picked up by a local driver, and he got on a helicopter to take him back to war. But most of the time, she didn’t dwell on where he was and how long it had been since she’d heard his voice.

She poured herself into work instead. She was smarter about when she grabbed sleep and what she ate, making sure she had enough rest and fuel to get her through long shifts.

To get her to the end of her contract, and to Sean on the other side.

Their wedding rings were in the wooden box in her locker. She resisted the urge to take them out and put hers on. Most of the time. She celebrated the end of the tenth week out—moving into single digits—with a bottle of beer and a night of wearing her ring as she wrote him a dorky almost-seven-week-anniversary email. Seven weeks married, Ten weeks to go.

They had this.

He sent her an equally dorky note back, promising an “all out bash” to celebrate their twentieth-week anniversary once they were home and together again. All the Granny Smith apples she could handle. He warned he was heading into the field again, and she shouldn’t worry.

So she didn’t as she fell asleep with her phone pressed to her chest and a ridiculous smile plastered on her face.

* * *

A week later, Jenna nodded as Sami talked about the new ultrasound machine that had just arrived, but she’d stopped listening somewhere around the details of the soft tissue imaging capability. It was Thursday, and Sean had said they’d be back from the field today.

She felt like a toddler obsessed with a promised activity.

She could hardly stand another second of chatter because she had email to check and—

“Jenna?”

She winced. “Sorry.”

Sami just laughed.

Everyone knew she was over the moon about Sean, and she didn’t let it affect her work—except for right now. She flushed. “I just…”

“You haven’t heard from him in a week.” Her medical director shooed her toward the door. “Go check your email. I promise I understand.”

Sami’s wife was a doctor, too, back in Canada with their two kids. And this wasn’t his first placement overseas.

After telling Sami in a rush that she’d see him tomorrow, Jenna ran from the hospital to her tent. She opened her locker and pulled out her phone.

No messages.

The crash of adrenaline slamming into disappointment was enough to rock her back on her heels.

Damn. So much for managing her expectations in a healthy way.

Hands shaking, she carried her phone to her bed and lay down. It took ages for her pulse to stop racing, but when it finally did, she carefully composed yet another uplifting email.

Another week passed. Jenna had sent two more emails then took a break for a few days. She was starting to sound mopey, and that wasn’t what she wanted.

She’d started obsessively reading the news, scanning for any updates about the Canadian mission across the border. No news was good news, she told herself.

Then one day, there was news. And it was awful.