Instead, I’d rather remember you lying in the snow, with your hair spread out and your eyes full of promise. That is the image I will hold on to and I know it will never grow dull in my memory.
I don’t have the right to ask you to wait for me, so I won’t do it. I want you to lead your life to the fullest and don’t look backward. If it helps, please know that I’m not going to look back on our time together either. I don’t want to be burdened with ‘what ifs’. I’m going to move forward with what I need to do and you need to do the same. It will be easier on you if things go badly for me.
If, by some miracle, you remain unattached and I remain alive, perhaps we can have another chance to be something. I hope to meet you back here next Christmas Eve and then we can move forward.
But only if I make it back. Only if I return.
Be well, Hope. Be happy.
Love,
Jack
My hands shake slightly as I lay the letter back down. He told me to move forward and don’t look back. It was a ridiculous request and one I found impossible to do. I knew Jack would be in grave danger while in Afghanistan, but I also knew chances were good he’d make it back to me. So there was no way I was moving forward without him.
I lasted all of two days before I had Audrey work her magic. She called Carson, who in turn called Jack’s mother, and before Jack even made it to Afghanistan, I had his address.
I waited two weeks before I wrote my first letter. It started off with an apology for doing something he specifically asked me not to do. Then I filled it with chatty news about my life. I wrote words that were upbeat and positive. I wanted him to know that he didn’t have to worry about me, even though I was secretly pining and filled with anxiety over his safety. I waited patiently for a response but I never received one.
Two weeks later, I wrote again. I told him jokes, and enclosed some funny comic strips I had collected. I explained, in probably excruciating detail, how my classes were going. I filled up two pages of fun details about my life and I made sure he knew that I missed him.
I never got a response.
But that didn’t deter me.
I wrote him thereafter about every two weeks. I kept the letters light and breezy. I poured out word after word about my life and there is now no person on the planet that knows Hope Camden better than Jack Freeman.
About four months after Jack left, I got an envelope in the mail. My heart stuttered, and then stalled for a brief moment when I saw the postmark. It said “Military Post, APO, AE”. I had no idea what that meant, but the words “military post” told me all I needed to know.
Jack had written to me.
I reach out and pick up that envelope that is lying on the bar. There’s no return address and I have the back secured with a piece of tape that I carefully peel back.
Inside there is no letter but there is a wealth of information. I reach in and pull out the dried flower... some sort of desert species, I assume. It’s a deep shade of purple and looks like it may have been round and fuzzy at one point, although now it’s flat and shaped like a fan. It’s clear that Jack took his time to press and dry it out before sending it to me. I lift it to my nose and sniff, although I know it won’t smell like anything.
Setting the flower down, I let my fingers graze the remaining contents of the envelope. It’s nothing more than maybe a quarter teaspoon of sand, but I know it’s the soil that Jack himself stood on, and that has brought me much comfort over the last few months.
A flower and sand is what I received from Jack, but the message was clear. He had been thinking of me and I took that to be his silent agreement that I should keep writing to him. I doubled my efforts and sent him a letter every week.
I never received anything else from him.
I also never bothered to try to find out if he was okay. I could have easily found out through Carson, but I knew in my heart of hearts he would make it out of there okay. Besides, I knew if something had happened to him, Carson would have gotten word to Audrey, and as I sit here now, I know if Jack doesn’t show up, it will be because he doesn’t want to see me.
I return the flower to the envelope and carefully seal it back up so as not to lose any of the precious sand. I place it carefully in my purse, and then pick up the letter he had left me. I resist the urge to read it one more time, and start to fold it up.
“I lied, you know.”
His voice is soft and seeps into the very pores of my skin.
Jack.
Turning slowly on the barstool, I take him in. He looks the same... tall, military haircut, glimmering eyes. He’s dressed in jeans, a white dress shirt, and a tweed sports jacket. His hands are tucked into his back pockets.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of him and the hammering of my heart sounds like thunder in my own ears.
“Don’t you want to know how I lied?” he asks.
Licking my lips, I do nothing but nod at him.
Removing his hands from his pockets, he takes a step closer to me. I inhale and smell his spicy cologne. His hand comes up and tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. That small touch sends a tremor down my spine and I have to fight not to close my eyes in response.
“I lied in that letter you’re holding,” he says, looking down at the paper that is now gripped tightly in my hand.
He reaches out and takes the letter from me. Opening it up, he skims it briefly, his forehead crinkled in consternation.
“Right here,” he points, showing the letter to me. “Where I said that I wasn’t going to think back on our time together. That I was going to move forward without you.”
I glance to where he’s pointing and then back at him. His eyes are deep pools of sorrow and my heart aches for him.
“I lied about that, Hope. I thought I could put you out of my mind, but I couldn’t. I thought about you every single day that I was there. I thought about you every single night... just before I fell asleep. And those letters... I was pissed when I saw the first one, but it didn’t stop me from devouring every word you wrote. From then on, I craved to hear from you. My happiest days there were when I got a letter from you.”
Elation bubbles up inside of me over his words. To know that I gave him comfort makes the agony of waiting so very worthwhile.
“I got the flower and sand you sent me.”
He nods. “I didn’t write, because I didn’t want you getting close to me. But I had to let you know that your words weren’t in vain.”
Reaching out tentatively, I lay my hand on his chest. His heart seems to be galloping at an even faster pace than mine. “I wasn’t sure you’d come tonight.”
He takes my hand, which is lying on his chest, and brings it to his lips. He feathers a soft kiss on the ends of my fingertips and then pulls me from my seat. Dragging me into his arms, he wraps himself around me, placing his nose in the crook of my neck.
I hear him inhale my scent and slowly let it out. He then pulls his head back, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around me. “How could I not come back to you? How could I give up the girl that likes old re-runs of Battlestar Galactica or who loves sitting on the front porch during a thunderstorm? How could I be without the woman who hates chocolate ice cream but loves vanilla with chocolate sauce? What would I do without the silly girl that threw up in the movie theater while watching The Blair Witch Project? Or the insanely kind girl that grocery shops for her elderly neighbor every week? Tell me, Hope... how can I live without the woman that helped to keep me sane over the last year?”
My eyes are glazed with tears, and I smile up at him. “You don’t... you don’t live without her. I’m here.”
His hands move up to my face and he just holds me there a moment as we get lost in each other’s eyes. Then he kisses me and it’s better than it ever was. His mouth is reassuring to my senses. My hands wind up around his neck, rubbing the short hair at the base of his head. We kiss for what seems like forever with no care for the fact that we are in a public place. Time stands sti
ll and the happiness that flows through me is bright and electric.
When we finally pull away, it’s to engage in another deep stare with one another. Trying to look deeper into each other’s eyes to see if there is anything that remains to be said.
“I’m here, too,” Jack says. “I returned... just for you.”
One Year Later
Jack
I’m sitting here on the floor, surrounded by mounds of torn wrapping paper and bows. The lights from the Christmas tree twinkle merrily and Hope is resting her head on my shoulder.
“I’m worn out,” she says. “I can’t believe how many presents we just opened.”
Glancing around, I groan inwardly at the mess we’ll have to clean up. But it was so worth it to see the look on Hope’s face as she opened gift after gift that I had gotten her for Christmas. I can’t help but to spoil her. She’s my everything.
Hope reciprocated as well. She went a little nuts actually and bought me more clothes than I can possibly wear in a lifetime. But I’ll admit it’s a bit of a turn on that my girlfriend likes to buy my clothes for me, so I just go with the flow.
This past year has been amazing. I moved in with Hope and I’m attending Florida State. I still have no clue what I want to do, but I have another full year before I need to declare a major. Hope is working with the Florida Social Services Department and loves her job so far. This is our first true Christmas together as last year didn’t count. I had to head back to Kentucky the day after I saw her at The Montgrove, but I knew that as soon as I was discharged from the Army, I would be making my way to Florida and Hope.
Glancing at my watch, I see it’s time for one last present. Audrey should have completed her secret mission and left the last of Hope’s presents in the garage within the last few minutes.
Giving her a little push off my shoulder, I stand up. “I’ll go get us some egg nog and we’ll just veg out here among all the presents for a while.”
She lies down amidst all the trash and sighs happily. “Sounds great.”
Once inside the kitchen, I open the door that leads out to the garage, wincing over the way it squeaks. But, just as planned, there is the big box, wrapped in shiny, silver-foiled paper, and sporting a huge, red bow.
I pick it up and chuckle when I hear the rustling around inside. I turn it so the five large holes cut into the back don’t show, but not before a little pink tongue pokes out.
It is going to be fucking great when she sees this.
When I walk back into the living room, Hope sits up. Her eyebrows rise. “What’s that?”
“What does it look like, goofy? It’s another present. I found it at the back door.”
“Oh, really?” she says with mock suspicion.
“Hey... if you don’t want it, I’ll just go set it out by the curb for the trash man to pick up.”
Hope jumps up to her knees and holds her hands out. “Don’t you dare! Gimme, gimme, gimme.” Her eyes are sparkling with excitement.
Rather than handing her the box, I kick some of the trash out of the way to make a clearing and set the box on the floor. “Now be careful... it’s fragile.”
Wasting no time, she leans over the box, quickly untying the bow. She peels back the paper to reveal the top flaps, still not seeing the holes cut into the box that are facing me.
I watch her closely as she unfolds the top flaps and watch her face go from one of utter excitement to pure, full-blown, ecstatic joy. She even squeals and I resist the urge to put my fingers in my ears over the high-pitched shriek.
“Oh, Jack,” she says reverently, as she reaches inside the box and pulls out the Golden Retriever puppy. He’s a little, fat ball of fur and the velvet, red bow that Audrey tied around his neck looks perfect. He eagerly plasters her face with puppy kisses. She holds him to her chest and buries her face in his fur. When she finally looks over at me, her eyes are filled with tears.
“You remembered,” she says softly.
“Of course, I remembered. I remember everything that you ever wrote to me while I was gone.”
One of Hope’s letters had talked about growing up with a Golden Retriever and that she couldn’t wait to have one of her very own someday after she finished school. I knew it was the perfect gift to get her for Christmas, and I’m sure I’m going to be a very lucky man when we hit the bed tonight. Just the thought of sinking myself deep into Hope has my dick twitching but I try to dash those feelings. She still has one more present to come.
“What’s his name?” she asks.
“Now how would I know that? He’s your puppy. You get to name him.”
She shoots me a warm smile. “He’s our puppy, you mean. Since we are living together.”
“Yes, he’s our puppy, but you get to name him.”
She holds him up so his chocolate-drop eyes are looking at her. His little, fuzzy tail swings back and forth with giddiness. She studies him for a moment. “I think I want to name him Stumble.”
“Stumble? Where did you come up with that?
Putting the puppy in her lap, she strokes his fur while looking at me. “It’s how I met you. I stumbled on those slate stones outside of The Montgrove and you caught me. It’s how all of this started. It was the beginning of the rest of my life.”
Oh, God, the things this girl does to my heart. I clear my throat before saying, “That sounds like a great name. How about passing me Stumble so I can get some puppy loving? But before you do, why don’t you take that bow off him. It’s got to be uncomfortable for the little man.”
“You’re probably right.”
I watch as she tries to hold the squirming pup and undo the ribbon that’s tied in a huge bow around his neck. She struggles for a moment and then peers closer at the knot. I give a silent chuckle as her eyes go wide with astonishment. Her gaze flicks briefly to mine and I just stare back at her.
She returns to the knot, her hands now working furiously, all the while Stumble thinks she’s playing a game and is trying to nip at her fingers. But she is patient with him, and the knot, and once she has it undone, she pulls the ribbon free from his neck.
After releasing her hold on Stumble, he hops off her lap and makes himself busy jumping and diving among the piles of Christmas paper.
She holds the ribbon up in front of her face, so she can finally get a good look at the diamond ring that it holds. Her hand shakes as she takes the ring and slides it free, staring at it in wonder.
Finally looking to me, she says, “Oh, Jack. It’s beautiful.”
I crawl over to her and take the ring from her. I grasp her left hand and kiss it first.
“Hope...” I begin, but then I falter. I had this great speech planned out but now my mind is blank. I had beautifully poetic words all lined up... words that would sweep her off her feet.
But now... all I can do is look at her in panic.
She smiles at me because she knows me well. “Yes.”
“Yes? I haven’t asked a question,” I tell her with a smirk, a little relieved since I was blanking.
“I can see it in your face, Jack Freeman. I know all the things you want to say to me because I see them written all over you. I know them because I know you. And there isn’t anything that would make me happier than being your wife.”
My heart expands to nearly double the size and I’m surprised it doesn’t burst out of my chest. I slip the ring on and then pull her into my arms so she’s straddling my lap. She holds her left hand out so she can admire my handiwork and then turns to me. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she lowers herself onto my lap and her warmth immediately causes lust to jolt through me.
“So, it’s a yes, then?” I ask as I flex my hips upward into her.
She lets out a purr and rubs back against me. “It’s a yes.”
Holding her head in place, I kiss her deeply. I pour all of my emotion and all the things I wanted to say in my proposal-gone-haywire into that kiss. When I pull away, I rest my forehead against hers. “I love you, Hope. K
nowing that you will always be by my side is like a miracle come true for me. I promise to make you the happiest woman alive.”
Hope wraps her arms around me and moves her head to the side so she can hug me. She holds me tight, digging her fingertips into my shoulders. “I love you, Jack. You started out as a Christmas miracle for me, and you continue to be one.”
I return her squeeze while gazing at the glittering tree.
Christmas has played a part in three pivotal events for us. Fate threw us together that first Christmas, only to cruelly separate us. Destiny brought us back together that second Christmas, so that we could continue to forge a relationship. This Christmas... love takes the spotlight and binds us together for eternity.
I lay us down carefully on the floor, surrounded by mountains of wrapping paper. I note that Stumble has curled up into a little ball and is fast asleep, a piece of ribbon sticking out of his mouth.
Turning toward Hope, I hover over her, ready to make love for the very first time to my new fiancée.
It’s a Christmas I will never forget.
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USA Today Best-Selling author, Sawyer Bennett is a native North Carolinian and practicing lawyer. When not trying to save the world from injustice, she spends her time trying to get the stories she accumulates in her head down on paper. She lives in North Carolina with her husband, Shawn, and their two big dogs, Piper and Atticus.
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