the air was moist, condensation everywhere, foggy and gloomy. it looked like it was going to rain. everything felt heavy, like the sky was pressing down on your shoulders. you couldn’t find him. you looked around, so many soldiers, so many faces that weren’t his. your chest ached as you ventured more, every step making the fear crawl deeper into you. had… he not… returned..? no. that was such a stupid thing to think. you hated yourself for even letting it slip into your mind.

he’d promised. promised he’d come back. he was strong. brave. stubborn in the way that meant he always survived. he had to come back.

she’d missed part of the graduation ceremony, so she didn’t see if he’d come back or not. the phone was dead, the dog chewing up the charger so she never knew if she'd gotten the call or not. the baby fussing and refusing to be left with a babysitter, little cries echoing in her head even now. she’d felt awful but figured anthony wouldn’t mind, it was their baby after all. she would apologize when she tapped him out. or if she got to. that thought alone made your throat tighten.

you tried to get rid of the knot in your throat, wandering, eyes scanning, heart racing, before you saw the head of curls. tied up in a tiny man bun, messy and familiar in a way that made your knees weak. your heart dropped. you almost rushed over to him, almost forgot how to breathe, before you paused behind him, needing to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. you walked around him, slow, like if you moved too fast he might disappear, seeing the all too familiar face.

oh. it was him. your anthony. your husband. your soulmate. your best friend. his freckles engraved into your memory, like constellations you knew by heart. you’d once spent one whole night counting them all. a hundred and twenty seven. you saw them all now, every single one, like proof that he was real. his chin lifted high, looking at the sky, standing straight in position, trying to look strong even though you knew how tired he had to be. you almost forgot to tap him out.

you looked at him for a little more seconds, memorizing the way his shoulders rose and fell, the way his jaw was set. he looked rough. but still gentle. in a way. like he’d been through hell and still carried love in his eyes. you touched his shoulder, and in less than a second he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground like he was scared to let go.

“ay, mi amor.” he murmured against your hair before he put you down, his arms cradling the back of your head against him, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him together. “oh god, everyday, amor. everyday, fighting, thinking of you.” he said, you could see the tears forming, his voice breaking just a little, like the truth was too big to keep inside.

you pressed your face into his chest, breathing him in, feeling his heartbeat under your cheek, solid and alive. all the fear, all the waiting, all the nights you’d spent staring at the ceiling with the baby asleep on you, wondering if he was okay, came crashing down all at once. he was here. he kept his promise. and for the first time in so long, the sky didn’t feel so heavy anymore.