She lifted her head from her pillow, waking to the sound of rain. Glancing over at her calendar, Mixus tried to steady the beating of her heart. She hadn't needed to look; she knew what day it was.

The young woman brushed her auburn hair gently from her eyes, feet padding softly across the hard wooden floor. There, on the windowsill, was that flower he had given her years ago. Four years ago today. It was kept carefully preserved, looking almost alive when hit by the sun, but it was only a trick of the eye. He had picked it from their garden and tucked it behind her ear, smiling sweetly as he whispered that he would come home soon, he promised.

Her eyes began to sting as she remembered him holding her – brushing away her tears, but refusing to tell her where he would be going, or for how long. "By this time next year," he had said. She'd been counting since, and kept track of the days by the flower. On the day that he left, she plucked one of the petals on the hawthorn flower, and another for every year that Alphonse failed to return.

Mixus was young; she knew she couldn't stand to wait forever. Or rather, she shouldn't wait. She'd promised herself and her daughter, who was hardly old enough to understand, that she would accept Alphonse was gone once the flowers had no petals left to tear away from its lonely heart.

She wished she hadn't stood for so long thinking about it. Just a pinch and a yank – hardly a tug, really – and this would be over. Just one petal; it shouldn't have been that hard. Then she could forget him, forget all of it. But that was the thing. She would forget about him. The thought scared and enticed her. They'd both been through so much, and Alphonse had stood by her no matter how terrible she used to be to him at times. As dear as these memories were, though, getting rid of them might also put an end to her pain.

Taking a deep breath, she stood up and went out into the rain, past the lawn, and onto the beach, clutching the flower to her heart all the while. She looked out at the ocean, breathing salt and sea. Maybe it was her inner agony, or maybe it was the fact that she was just tired. Whatever the reason, she finally brought herself to shut her eyes and take the hawthorn blossom – stem in one hand, petal in the other – and let that last bit of hope flutter out to sea to be swallowed by the waves.

Not even a moment after, her eyes snapped open and she let out a small cry, rushing forth into the splashing water and reaching out her hand. The only thing she caught was wind. She looked about her frantically, hopelessly, praying that it might be floating nearby. As realization hit her, she held her left hand quietly, running her thumb over the diamond on her wedding ring. Trembling, she whispered, "You promised you'd be back...where are you…?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm right here," he said. She looked up at him from her place on the front steps, seeing an Alphonse that was younger than the one who had said goodbye to her. Laughing, she replied, "Oh, you scared me. I've been waiting for you for a while, you know."

"What? You have..?!"

Mixus held back a grin. "I'm only teasing. Come on." He blinked and allowed himself to be pulled along, smiling happily as she looked back.

"What?"

He grinned. "Oh…nothing."

~

"Mixus!"

Glancing at him, she smiled quietly. "Yeah?"

He touched her swollen belly, frowning playfully. "How much looonger?"

She laughed slightly, watching his eyes. "It's been seven months. How much longer do you think it's gonna be?"

He looked thoughtful, and suddenly changed the subject. "I hope it's a girl."

"You do, huh? Any particular reason why?" She studied him, amused.

"She can be the flower girl at our wedding."

A blush spread across her cheeks, and she looked away in embarrassment. "She won't be old enough..!"

Alphonse carefully pulled her onto his lap, instantly making her comfortable enough for her to wonder if she'd known him all her life. "I hope she's as pretty as her mother." The sound of his laughter filled the garden while, blushing, she tried to worm her way out of his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mixus kept her eyes closed, trying to conjure up his image, his warmth. In her mind, he smiled down at her and stroked her hair. "I'm sorry you've waited for so long." She allowed the salt of her tears to mix with that of the ocean. The cold numbed her legs. "It's alright, if…will you come back?" She felt a gentle squeeze on her hand. "I haven't left. You remember me, don't you?" She nodded, linking her pinkie with his, like they used to. "I still miss you." He returned her nod. "I understand. You shouldn't be out here, though; you'll catch cold. Go home. Evie should be waking up about now." Opening her eyes, she still felt him there. "Yeah. Come…come visit me, okay? She misses you." She felt a warm touch on her forehead and turned, allowing her finger to slowly slip free as she left for home.