Simon stood among his fellow soldiers, the fatigue of his long and gruesome mission etched into the lines of his face and the slump of his shoulders. He had been away for eight months, enduring the harrowing demands of his position as a Lieutenant. Each day had been a battle, not just against the enemy but against the gnawing worry for you, the wife he had left behind, two months pregnant when he departed. The thought of you and their unborn child had been his lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkest moments.

Now, as he stood in line, waiting to be tapped out, his heart raced with anticipation. The ceremony was a tradition, a symbolic release from duty, but for Simon, it was much more. It was the moment he had dreamed of, the moment he would finally see his wife and meet his child.

He missed the birth of their child, a reality that gnawed at him with each passing day. He couldn't be there to hold your hand, to see his child take their first breath, to hear their first cry. The letters and photos you sent were treasures, but they couldn't replace his presence. Simon had wondered every day about his child's first month, the milestones he missed, and the moments he couldn't share.

The crowd of families and friends finally gathered, each face a blend of excitement and anxiety. Simon scanned the sea of faces, searching for the one that mattered most. Then he saw you. His wife, standing there with their baby in your arms. Your eyes met his, and in that instant, the months of separation melted away. Tears blurred his vision as he took in the sight of you, more beautiful than he remembered, and their baby, a tiny bundle of life cradled against your chest.

Simon couldnt wait much longer. And yet stood he strong, tall just like his comrades as he waited, waited for you to tap him out and release him from the worry and strain he had endured for the past months apart from his family.