As I watch him shove shorts and socks into his bag, an idea pops into my head. I practically jump up off the bed, glancing at the clock to confirm I have time. “I’ll be right back!” I yell, turning and making a beeline for the door.
“Where are you going?” he hollers.
“Five minutes. Be right back!” And then I’m out the door and virtually running down the block.
Once I get to the flower shop, I place my order and watch as they fill it. I pay the few bucks and hurry back to my apartment. When I round the building, I find Ford outside by his rental, bags already loaded. “What’s that?” he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Do you remember when you asked if I wanted a memorial or something for the baby? Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and I thought this was something we can do together. A way to say goodbye,” I tell him, my eyes burning with unshed tears.
His green eyes brighten with realization. “Hang on,” he says, bolting up the stairs to my apartment. When he returns a minute later, he has my letter-writing notebook and a pen. “Here. We can attach a note.”
I watch as he rips a sheet of paper out and sets it on top of the notebook. We walk over to the car and use the hood as a table. Ford hands me the pen and takes the balloon. I lean over the hood and start to write.
Dear Sweet Baby,
Not a day will go by that we won’t think of you.
The sobs start slowly, and my hand starts to shake. I can’t seem to make myself write anymore. Ford gently takes the pen from my hand and kisses me on the forehead and finishes the note.
Until the day we can finally hold you in our arms, we will hold you in our hearts. Mommy and Daddy love you more than you’ll ever know.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper, sniffling and wiping my eyes.
Ford nods and sets the pen down. He takes my hand in his and guides me to the far end of the lot where there are no trees. He ties the little note to the end of the balloon and holds it out for me to grab on. “Until we meet in heaven,” he whispers, his tear-filled eyes locked on mine.
“In heaven,” I murmur.
Together, we let go of the balloon and watch it float higher and higher until it’s no longer in sight. A calmness washes over me, bathing me in peace. I close my eyes, still grieving our loss, and whisper, “I love you, sweet baby. I’ll never forget you.”
Ford pulls me against his chest and sighs. “I really don’t want to leave, but I have to get on the road.”
I nod. “You can’t be late,” I confirm, knowing he’s already going to be pushing it for returning when required.
“But hey, we’re going to be seeing each other soon. Chad and I will be here to help you move.”
“Yep,” I mutter, pasting on my best, most confident smile.
He pulls me back against him, threads his fingers into my hair, and kisses my lips. “I’ll text you as soon as I get back.”
“‘Kay.”
“I love you most,” he murmurs, sliding his lips across mine and savoring the connection.
I snicker at his comment. “Love you so much.”
“See you soon, Shayne.”
Nodding, I watch as he climbs into the car, starts it up, and closes the door. He puts the shifter into Drive and starts to pull away, mouthing, “I love you,” as he goes.
I wave, giving him a reassuring smile, yet I can’t stop the overwhelming feeling of sadness as he drives away. Only this time, I know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Soon, he’ll be back, helping me move to my new apartment in a new city in a new state. And with each day that passes, we’re one more closer to our forever.
Epilogue
Ford
I can’t sleep. This is the first night since I’ve been discharged from the army that I’ve had that problem. Normally, with Shayne curled up beside me with her head resting on my chest, sleep finds me easily. Tonight, that’s not the case.
I’ve been home for two months, and it’s been the best two months of my entire life. The year that we spent apart was hell, but at the same time, I think it was good for us. Good for her. Shayne grew into the person she wanted to be, and I got to witness it firsthand. Sure, it was mostly video calls and pictures, but I was there for it.
All of it.
I can still remember her first day of school. She called me as soon as she was in her car, and luckily, it was a time I could talk. She went on and on about how much she loved it and how excited she was. I don’t think there has been a single day since she started classes that I’ve heard her complain. My girl has found her calling, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.