Request by sazzy15
When Logan got drafted, he was extremely worried about leaving me behind. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. I wish it was. Then that way, I'd have a few more days with him.
I tried to be supportive, but how supportive can a girl be knowing she may never see her fiancé again?
The night before he left, I couldn't sleep. I still remember how it felt to lay in his arms, tears consistently streaming down my face. When he woke up, I continued to act like nothing was wrong. It wasn't until the drive to the airport that he finally spoke up.
~•~
"I know something's wrong," he whispered.
I took a shaky breath when he reached over and grabbed my hand, instantly intertwining our fingers.
"I don't want you to go," I said, barely audible.
"Y/N," he sighed.
"I know that serving is a great thing and risking your life for the country is honorable but. . . I can't lose you."
The sob I've been hiding from him all this time finally escaped. He scooted as close to me as he could and pulled me into his chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
"I will come home to you," he whispered earnestly. "I promise."
~•~
"We're so sorry, Ms. Y/N," the private apologized. His sergeant sent him a glare before clearing his throat.
"We will continue looking for Thibault's unit, but it would take a miracle to bring him home."
I was numb as they stood up. I stood up and escorted them out. Before they left, the young private stopped. He turned around and sent me a small smile.
"You never know," he said softly. "Miracles happen."
* * * * *
I woke up the next morning and immediately looked at the empty spot on the bed next to me. That's when reality hit me.
The army had lost contact with Logan's entire unit. My fiancé was missing in action.
I covered my mouth, the sob making my throat burn. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms tightly around them. I spent the next three weeks in bed.
My family and friends tried to cheer me up, but nothing worked. I didn't want it to work. The army tried to reassure me that they would continue looking for my fiancé, but they weren't entirely optimistic. They couldn't even pretend to believe that they were going to find him.
Eventually, I knew I couldn't go on like this. I found a counseling group that gathers once a week. It's full of people who have lost loved ones. Some of them were like me who lost someone to the war, while others had lost a loved one to some kind of illness.
Three months later, I was still going to group grief counseling but it wasn't helping much. I sat in my chair, playing with my fingers as people shared how they were improving.
"What about you, Y/N? How are you doing?"
I looked up to see everyone looking at me with encouraging smiles. I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I uncrossed my legs to instantly recross them.
"Well," I said, my voice getting caught in my throat again. "As you know, Logan's unit went missing a few months ago. Of course they sent people down to talk to me and apologize and promise that they are doing everything to find him but. . ."
I looked around the group to see a few people nodding as if they understood why the promise meant nothing.
"It's been three months," I continued. "I thought it would get easier but it's only gotten harder. I listen to all of your stories about getting better and it's wonderful, truly. I'm happy for all of you. I just. . . When is it my turn? When am I going to be able to get up in the morning without tears streaming down my face? When am I going to be able to go throughout my day without feeling like my heart is in another country? When am I going to be happy again?"
The room was completely silent when I finished. I stood up and ran out of the room before anyone could tell me that everything was going to be okay.
The next week it felt like I got worse instead of getting better. Whenever I started to think about leaving the house, my depression stopped me. I worked from home, so staying home wasn't that much of a problem.
Even before Logan was enlisted, I worked as a writer for an online company, allowing me to work from home. After we got engaged and decided to move in together, Logan turned one of our spare bedrooms into an office for me.
"Hi, sweetie."
"Hi, Mom," I said slowly. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, I was worried you haven't been eating so I brought lunch."
Before I could object, she walked into the kitchen and started preparing lunch for us. As we ate, I didn't talk.
"So," Mom said, clearing her throat. "Are you still attending that group counseling session every week?"
"I am," I said, halfheartedly.
"Is it working?" She pushed.
"Not really," I scoffed. "It's just sitting and listening to how other people got over their grief. I leave more depressed than when I walked in."
"Sweetie," she sighed.
"Please don't," I said, my breath getting caught in my throat. "I am so tired of people telling me to let it go or move on. I can't. Don't you get it? I love Logan more than anything in the world. Losing him. . . The idea of him never coming home. . . There's nothing worse."
Mom reached across the table and grabbed my hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "We didn't mean to force you to move on. It just. . . It breaks my heart seeing you like this, sweetie. Your father and I want nothing more to help you but, the truth is, there's nothing we can say or do to make any of this better."
* * * * *
After Mom left, I couldn't help but think about Logan. He's all I think about. The next couple of days, I thought about what Mom said. She was right. There's nothing anyone can do to make this better. The only thing would be if they found him.
I decided to go to the next therapy session today. I was embarrassed with my blow-up last time but working through everything is going to take time.
I opened the door, my breath getting caught in my throat when I saw a tired soldier on my doorstep. My eyes filled with tears as I took in the sight of my tired fiancé.
"Logan?" My voice broke as my eyes filled with tears.
"Hi, baby," he whispered.
I jumped into his arms, dropping my keys and my bag on the floor. Logan laughed as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer into his chest and holding me tightly.
Tears streamed down my face as I held my fiancé. I felt Logan take a shaky breath as he tightened his hold on me.
"I don't understand," I stuttered as I slowly pulled out of his embrace, my arms still wrapped around him. "They said. . . I thought. . . They weren't sure. . . I can't believe you're home."
Logan smiled as he reached up and cupped my cheek in his hand, wiping a tear off my face with his thumb.
"I've missed you so much, darling."
I grabbed his face and roughly pressed my lips to his. I felt him smile as he started kissing me back. Our lips moved in sync as we held each other.
I broke the kiss and leaned my forehead against his. We stayed in each other's arms as we caught our breaths.
"I'm so happy you're home, baby," I whispered.
"Me too," he chuckled as he tightened his arms around my waist.
"Please," I stuttered. "Please don't ever leave me again. I can't. . . I barely. . . Please."
Logan leaned back and caught a fresh tear that escaped. He didn't let go of my face.
"I promise," he whispered. "I am never leaving you again, my love."