The Love We Had
By Hanna Wallace
The looming structure of the airport made me feel like an ant. I still was having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that I was about to say goodbye to the one I loved. He grabbed my dainty hand in his large callused one leading me toward the entrance. My legs felt like lead and my heart felt like ice. When we reached the sliding doors, he pulled me over to the side away from the bustling people.
The moment we were safely tucked away from the crowd I wrapped my arms around his neck in hopes of memorizing this feeling. The feeling of security, safety, and love. Tears start rushing down my cheeks as I feel his arms loosen from my waist. His large hands cup my face wiping the stray tears from my cheeks. I lean up towards him capturing his lips in mine hoping to change his mind.
"Please stay," I plead.
The look in his eyes displays love and sorrow. "You know I have to go baby."
I nod my head feeling more defeated than before. "You'll write me every chance you get," I respond desperately.
"Of course, my sweet."
I sniffle and nod my head.
He embraces me again and whispers in my ear, "I love you, Lyllia. I will be back one day. I promise."
"I love you too, Damian." I mumble into his shoulder.
He pulls away and walks towards the sliding doors. Before he reaches them, he turns around giving me a courageous yet broken smile. I respond with a small wave trying my best to hold back the tears that threaten to spill onto my cheeks. He turns back around and I watch his broad camouflage covered shoulders disappear. If I had known that would be the last time I'd ever see him I would have convinced him to stay.
*** Two Months Later ***
I lunge for the toilet for the second time this morning. After emptying the remaining contents in my stomach I lay my face against the cold tile and sigh. I stay sprawled on the floor for what seems like a lifetime just thinking. Damian’s last letter was filled with so much excitement. All it talked about was us going to get to Skype for the first time since he left.
A small smile graces my lips as I think about his handsome face. I stare down at the diamond sparkling on my left hand feeling my heart flutter from the promise it holds. I slowly make my way downstairs and go into the living room. I open a drawer on the coffee table and pull out a beautifully crafted scrapbook.
I start flipping through the cherished book laughing and crying from certain memories. Just as I reach the pictures of Damian’s proposal someone knocks on the door. I reach the door and open it hesitantly.
**** Two Weeks Later ****
My knee bounces rapidly as I sit in the packed church. I twist my engagement ring on my finger trying to rid myself of any nerves. I stare past the pastor as he drones on and on about Damian as if he knows him. I almost roll my eyes and laugh out loud, remembering how Damian used to make fun of Pastor Dan. I start thinking about all the times Damian would make funny faces at me during sermons when we were kids. The memories bring a faint smile to my lips and tears to my eyes. I grab a tissue from the box next me and dab at my eyes for the hundredth time.
Mrs. Smith takes my hand firmly and smiles at me gently as if to say she knows what I'm thinking. I clutch onto her hand like my life depends on it. As if in a dreamlike state I look at her as if I was kid again. She is once again the loving, creative woman I knew as a kid. She's a mother who still has her son. Damian used to complain when I'd spend hours in the kitchen with her. Mrs. Smith would laugh and say, "Damian who's going to cook when y'all are married if I don't teach Lyllia?"
He'd blush and mumble before leaving the room causing us to burst into laughter. I sigh deeply feeling more tears starting to pool in my eyes. Before I can dab my eyes though, Mrs. Smith squeezes my hand jarring me from my thoughts. I look up and everyone is looking at me. Mrs. Smith leans towards me and says, "Lyllia dear, you're up."
I stand up with shaky legs feeling the blood rush into my ears. I squeeze my dad's hand as I past him for courage and make my way to the podium. When I make it to the podium I adjust the microphone and clear my throat hearing the noise bounce off the church walls. Feeling my nerves build up and my emotions bouncing around like a ball in a pinball machine, I grip the podium for stability.
"Damian was my best friend, my fiancée, and my everything. He was the type of man who always helped others first. He used to tell me that a good man will love his family but a great man will protect it. "
A tear falls down my face and I feel a lump starting to form in my throat.
I mumble a thank you and hurry off stage to the comfort of my dad and Mrs. Smith. As soon as I make it to them I break down completely. My dad rubs soothing circles on my back as I cry.
I look at Mrs. Smith with fear in my eyes before leaning over to her and whispering, “I’m pregnant.”
