Wren

The whole day I spend in a frenzy of nerves. I wish I hadn't staffed the diner, it would have helped for me to go to work, to have something to do. But instead I scrubbed my house clean all day waiting for the confrontation with Huxley. I was nervous, but part of me was excited. Like some big mystery was going to be solved and maybe, just maybe, I could move on with my life.

By the time he finally knocked on the door shortly before five I was a ball of nervous energy. I opened the door for him and ushered him in. He looked about like me.

Nervous as hell.

I motioned for him to sit on the couch and I took the chair facing him. He grunted a little and narrowed his eyes at me.

"Could you come over here please?" He asks and I roll my eyes, but go to sit next to him on the couch, both of us turning our bodies so we're facing each other. I sit with my legs crossed as I watch him fidget, clearly anxious about what he's going to tell me.

"Well?" I ask and he sighs.

"Just... give me a minute. I spent so long getting you to listen to me I never actually considered where I'd start." He says and I huff out a laugh, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"The beginning. Where did you go after... the night we spent together?" I ask, softening my voice. He sighs and looks up at me, his eyes begging me to understand. To forgive.

"Bootcamp." He says and my eyebrows shoot up.

"What do you mean?" I ask and he sighs again.

"I joined the Army." He says and a little gasp leaves me. I feel myself still as I wait for him to continue.

"Why?" I ask and he tightens his hold on my hand.

"For you." He murmurs and I pull away from him, angry at his words.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I ask and he chuckles a little, making me even more annoyed.

"You had better explain yourself right the fuck now, Huxley." I say firmly and he nods, scooting closer to me.

"Wren, I have loved you since I was fourteen years old." He says quietly, and I feel all of the air rush from my lungs as I try to wrap my mind around his words.

"I don't understand." I whisper, my eyes filling with tears at his declaration.

"I loved you so much that I wanted to give you the world. I knew that I couldn't do that without taking some drastic steps. I knew I could get a job, work hard, but we would still struggle. Live paycheck to paycheck just like my parents did. I didn't want that for you. You know what happened to my mom. They said stress played a factor in how quickly the cancer killed her. I remember her worrying constantly about getting bills paid, making sure we had enough food, wondering how they would buy me school clothes. I didn't want that for you, baby. I wanted you to have everything. To be comfortable. So I joined the Army. I saved every penny for the four years I was in. I took business classes in my free time and got my degree. I knew that if I could invest in something, build a business, we would be set." He says, stopping to gauge my reaction. I take a moment to stew over his words.

"But... Huxley. You could have told me where you were." I say, my voice cracking with emotion. When Huxley's eyes meet mine again, I can nearly feel the sorrow barreling off of him.

"I was going to, baby. I swear. After boot camp and I knew where I was going to be stationed. But they identified me as an expert marksman during training. All of those years of hunting animals apparently made me an excellent sniper for high value targets. They sent me to special training and then deployed me to some of the most dangerous areas in the world. Coming home, especially in one piece, well, it wasn't expected. We lost a lot of good soldiers in my time." He says sadly and I feel like a rock has descended into my stomach.

"So you couldn't tell me?" I ask and he sighs, running his hand through his hair.

"I could have. But I didn't want you to worry." He says and reaches out to smooth the area in between my eyes that has furrowed.

"See that look right there? I didn't want that look on your face for four long ass years. The constant stress, the worry, it changes people, Wren. Even the families. I didn't even tell my dad where I was or what I was doing. I just did my time, did my duty, served my country, and came home to my girl." He says and I reach up to wipe away a tear.

"Why'd you wait until that night? Before you left?" I ask and he gives me a sad smile.

"I knew the risk I was taking in leaving. I knew that you probably wouldn't wait for me. That you could very well be married and have a couple of kids by the time I came back. I would have been ok with that. Devestated, but I would have understood. So I just wanted that one night, the memories, so I could have them my whole life. Even if those were the only ones I was going to get. I hadn't planned on it. I thought I was strong enough to resist the temptation. But when I came over to say goodbye to you I just... broke." He says and a sob breaks loose, tears streaming down my face as I try to hold it together.

Huxley lifts me and plants me on his lap, holding me tight and running his hands up and down my back.

"I still worried about you." I say through my tears and he sighs, pressing a kiss to my temple as his arms tighten around me.

"I know, baby. But did you worry about me getting blown to pieces by a roadside bomb? Or captured and tortured by combatants?" He asks gently and I shake my head.

"Mostly that you had gotten into some trouble or something." I say and he nods in understanding.

"I'm not saying the decisions I made were the right ones, or the ones you would have made. But every single choice I've made since I was fourteen years old has been for you." He says quietly and I rest my head on his shoulder, basking in his sweet embrace.

"So when you said you've killed people...?" I ask and he huffs a little breath.

"I followed orders. Did what I was told to protect my country." He says firmly and I nod.

"I understand." I say quietly, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"You do?" He asks, surprise evident in his tone. I nod, tucking my face in close to him as I breathe him in, his arms around me feeling like the home I've been searching for.

"I understand all of that, Huxley. But I can't pretend that it's all forgiven because what I'm most angry at you for is what I had to go through when you left." I say, my voice dripping agitation and he pulls away to look at me with furrowed brows.

"What do you mean?" He asks and I take a deep breath.

I stand off of his lap and begin pacing my living room as my heart hammers in my chest. I've never told anyone this. Anyone but Liv and my I have a hard time forming the words. But Huxley deserves to know. I look up into his eyes and stop moving long enough to tell him the one secret I swore I'd never utter again.

"I asked your dad about you for a couple of months after you left. All he would tell me was that you were alive." I say and he nods.

"Because that's all I would tell him. I called him once a month for four years, just to tell him I was still alive." He says.

"Well, I asked him about you because I wanted to talk to you. To tell you that the night we were together... I got pregnant."