**All rights reserved go to pluviophile, 2014, who created the plot of this fic. Veronica Roth has created the characters and the Divergent world, but I am borrowing her characters. I will return them safely to her once I am done.**
Author's Note: I know that it's been a super long time since I've updated, and you have my sincerest apologies. School is nuts, swim is nuts and gah. Tea, anyone? XD
IMPORTANT NOTICE (6/3): This story is in the process of editing and refining. It has been moved from 1st person to 3rd person perspective. If you see any typos or whatnot, it is due to refinement.
Seven months. Two weeks. And three days. It's been exactly seven months, two weeks and three days since she had last seen Tobias. Now, they're continents apart, separated by water, land and extreme distance.
Tris is stuck here in Chicago, trapped in their little apartment while Tobias is stationed in Afghanistan, dodging bullets and grenades. Every second that she's away from him feels like eternity. It feels like she's being tortured slowly, like someone is dragging a knife down her arm and all she can do is grit her teeth and try not to cry.
When he first left, they made a point to FaceTime or Skype or even settle for a phone call. Anything that would keep her connected to him. It started out everyday. Everyday at 7 pm, well for her at least (due to the insane time difference). Over the months, their contact was limited or cut short. Sometimes, I'd go days without a response from him. But Tobias always called back, telling me about another victory with that familiar light flickering in his eyes.
It's been two weeks now.
No calls.
No Skype.
No Facebook message.
Tris sits on their bed to look over at the spot where Tobias would be. It remains untouched, as if it too is waiting for him to come back home. She twirls the small wedding ring in her fingers before she sucks in a breath, slips it back on and scoots to his side of the bed. Tris buries her face into his pillow, breathing in deeply. He's still there. His scent still lingers.
She remembers a week before Tobias left, he put on mounds of cologne even though it stunk up the whole apartment and made everyone sick. He told her if he wore enough of it, the house would still smell like him, even months after he left. It still does. Sure, she's opened the windows to catch the morning air or cooked something on the stove, but his cologne, his musk is still there. Their room still carries his scent. It's faint. It's barely enough of him, but it's all she has until he comes home.
"I miss you, Tobias," Tris whispers into his pillow. She pretends to hear him whisper back, to hear his voice, to feel his touch, his dark eyes on hers. She longs to feel his hands brush her hair from her face as she retched into the toilet. She wants to feel his lips on hers as they celebrated the announcement of their first child, two days before he left.
Tris's breath catches in her throat, but she does not cry. Instead, she wraps her arms around her rounded stomach, clutching their unborn baby and twists deep into the blankets, hoping she can possibly retreat deep enough into her mind and not come out. Maybe this is all a dream, and when she wakes up, he'll be waiting for me her.
She has not cried since he left. Instead, she sucks in her tears and puts on a smile. Before he left, Tobias told Tris to be brave. This is her doing that.
Author's Note: Reviews are love…