The air was crisp and stinging as you stood outside, surrounded by a crowd of worried families, all anxiously waiting for their loved ones to return.

Each time Simon was deployed, it took a toll on you. The constant worry nibbled at your heart, and the thought that something could go wrong without you even knowing made you feel sick. Simon had always insisted that you stay home and wait for him, but the idea of sitting still while he was so close was unbearable.

The noise in front of you grew louder, accompanied by screams and cries as soldiers began to filter in. You craned your neck and stood on your toes, searching for Simon among the wave of arrivals, but he was nowhere in sight—not yet, at least. You prepared yourself for a long wait, just as you expected.

Watching families reunite stirred a bittersweet ache in you. Seeing their joy brought a small smile to your lips, yet only made your longing to hold your  husband again, to kiss him and feel his warmth stronger.

Minutes turned into fifteen, and you got worried as the crowd thinned. Most soldiers had already left with their families, and your heart raced as you reached for your phone to call him. Before you could dial, a warm, familiar hand touched your shoulder, gently turning you around.

There he was—your husband, Simon, standing with a slightly crumpled bouquet of tulips in his hand; they weren’t wrapped, clearly a last-minute grab. He was so out of breath as he pulled you into a tight hug, holding you after months of distance.

Tears pricked your eyes as you buried your face against him, breathing in his scent that you’d missed so desperately during the long months apart.

“Next time you decide to pick me up, warn me beforehand, yeah?” Simon murmured, his gruff voice soft with affection. “Try finding tulips at the compound with ten minutes’ notice.”