“Nothing like curbside check-in,” I tried to tease once he’d gotten back in.

“Fly army.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He parked the Jeep in front of the hangar and almost pocketed the keys. “Wait. You might need these.” He handed them over, the weight heavier than it should have been. Everything about this morning felt heavy, oppressive, like a boulder had parked itself on my chest and was gradually stealing my ability to breathe.

Our eyes met in the dim light of the dashboard. I would have given anything to pause this moment, to keep us here for just a little longer where I could see him, feel his heartbeat. But that wasn’t the life I’d signed on for, and I was stronger than this dark feeling creeping along the edges of my heart.

We were stronger than any deployment.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked me.

“Are you?”

“I have to be.” He tucked an errant strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Same here.”

He nodded. “Shall we?”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath and stepped out of the Jeep.

His backpack slung over one shoulder, he held my hand as we filed into the hangar with the hundred or so other families who had gathered to send off their soldiers.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He kissed my cheek and disappeared into the sea of MultiCam.

I sat on the lowest bleacher, everything in me going blessedly numb as I looked around. Soldiers stood huddled in groups, laughing and talking. They were newbies, the right shoulders of their uniforms lacking the combat badge Josh had on his. They had never been to war, never seen the horrors, or lost friends.

A few fathers held sleepy-eyed children, stroking their hair. I couldn’t help but think of the last time Gus had hugged Dad before he left.

No. Don’t let that in. Not now. I had to hold myself together for the next hour.

My eyes skimmed the bleachers to the right and locked onto an older soldier. His wife sat stoically next to him, her arm looped through his, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes a vacant stare. He turned and placed an absentminded kiss on her forehead, his eyes focused anywhere but there. If I had to bet, I would have said they were on their fourth, if not fifth, deployment. She had the same gracefully defeated face Mom had worn when she’d dropped Dad off that last time.

That kind of look only came with years of waiting, strength, and weariness.

“Hey,” Josh said as he sat down next to me, jarring me from my people-watching.

“All signed in?” I asked.

“Yeah. Now we wait for them to call formation.” He wrapped his arm around me and tucked me into his chest.

“How long do we have?”

“About another half hour.”

Thirty minutes. How could I fit all of my love into such a short amount of time? My thumb stroked the platinum band of my engagement ring, and I reminded myself that we had forever. This was just a hurdle. “You have the international cell packed?”

“Yes. I’ll pick up minutes once we’re in country. I’ll never be out of contact for long, I promise.”

I nodded. That was one advantage of this being Josh’s second deployment. He knew the ropes already. While I’d never be so needy as to call the cell phone, because only God knew what he could be doing, I took huge amounts of comfort knowing that I could text him in an emergency.

“Remember to have the complex come out and look at the water heater. I should have done it before I left. I’m sorry.”

“Stop. You did everything you could, and our house is brand-new. I can take care of just about anything that pops up, so stop worrying.”

He kissed my forehead, lingering. “Worrying about you is my primary job. I just fly helicopters to pay the bills.”

“I’m stronger than you give me credit for.” God, I hoped that was true. Josh had seen me at my lowest and watched me rebuild my life, but this would take a strength I had to develop all on my own.

“I know how strong you are, December,” he whispered. “Even that won’t change how much I worry about you.”

Then don’t leave me.

We sat there, our arms locked around each other, our heartbeats counting down the moments until he’d be called away. They were the best and worst minutes, flying too quickly. I had never loved him more than I did in that moment. I had never been as scared.

It’s when you realize how close you are to losing something that you finally comprehend just how precious it is.

Mom was wiser than I’d ever given her credit for.

A voice came across the PA system. “Ten minutes.”

Josh sat up straight. “Let me walk you out.”

“What?” I asked, looking up at his stone-set face.

“I don’t want to be with all these people. I want it to be just you and me.” A muscle in his jaw ticked.

“But I don’t want to leave you early, even if it’s just for that minute. I’ll watch you go.”

His face cupped my cheeks. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk away if I know you’re watching, December. Please, for me. Let me walk you out.”

“Okay.” He took my hand and walked me past the desperate embraces of the families around us.

The early morning air cooled my heated cheeks as we walked back to where the Jeep was parked. He unlocked the door for me and opened it. Then he opened his arms.

I walked into them, breathing in his scent until my lungs were full. My fingers clenched his uniform. “I’m not ready,” I whispered.