2023

She can't sleep. She spends a lot of the night reading his text. His simple sentence has more meaning than just his words. She knows he's ready to have more. He wants more from her than she's giving him. If she's honest, he's been doing nothing but giving himself to her over and over for six months. He has worked hard to regain her trust and earned it again. She trusts him, loves him, and wants more, too—no way can that be considered wrong. Dr. Sherman was right; they have built something new, even if the feelings are older than time. Because she doesn't remember not loving him, they are destined to be. Because, as far as she knows, they love each other in all universes. In all eventualities, they end up together. Life may not be a fairy tale, but they are.

Lying there in the darkness, she thinks about what he wrote. Not the text, but the letter he wrote, over thirty years ago, the night before they were married. She's kept it close to her for years. She revisits it from time to time. Henry, a man of words, always wrote letters for her that knocked her off her feet. They were passionate, sweet, and intensely romantic, even if he called their soon-to-be marriage a magical mystery tour. Henry had said in a line that no force on earth could keep him from coming home to her. He was right nothing has stopped it. Not Desert Storm. Not the CIA. Not the ultimatum. Not burning Dmitri. Not their stubbornness. And not their fear. He is coming home. He is coming back to her after all these years. She's sure the only happiness that peaks her joy now is the days their children were born. And she knows that high will only grow from here when she sees him tomorrow when he comes home and makes her his wife again.

Her mind wanders away from the letter. She turns onto her side and looks at the clock; it reads 4:00 am. And she knows that when Henry returns to DC in a month, she won't be alone at 4:00 am ever again. He'll be here, softly snoring next to her, in this bed that is too big for just her. Her heart warms with the thought of having him here. And she hopes that he feels the same way about her because she's never felt more certain about anything in her life.

…

He spends the night packing. He has every intention of spending the entire weekend with her. He can't explain why he knows this will happen, but he does. Tomorrow, they will no longer be exes or friends. He knows that the dynamic will shift. He will be going home to her because she is his home. He has never quite gotten the words to explain how deeply he loves her. He had settled on calling her home a long time ago on a night when they were uncomfortable in her tiny dorm bed. Holding each other close, he thought he could stay there forever. His feeling was so overwhelmingly comfortable that he could only call it home. He wanted to live in that moment forever. But life didn't give him that choice. Life had wrecked them. Their jobs destroyed them. But he knows now that their feeling for each other still exists for a reason. One beyond his understanding, one that requires a little faith. He has faith in her, in them, and fate. He knows the pain is over. They've both been through so much of it. But that quiet life they've always dreamed of is directly in front of them. The one where they take vacations to exotic places and no one has to work. No one has to get shot at or give a speech. They can just be. Just be happy and see what happens.

…

They meet at a small coffee shop. When he walks in, she's at a table with two coffees. He sits down across from her and takes a sip of his coffee. He smiles because she's wearing a necklace he bought for their first Christmas together. The stone is small, and the metal is silver; it's all he could afford at the time. But she has always loved that necklace. He remembers that night so well. He was nervous, not knowing if she would like it; she was used to much nicer things. But she smiled so big when she opened it. Tears formed in her eyes. He knew then that she loved it. She loved it because he got it for her, not because it was a high-quality piece of jewelry, but because she loved him—a simple gesture of love.

"Hi, babe." The words he chooses are of significance, at least to them. The meaning is more profound than anyone around them would know, the start of them becoming them once again.

"Hey." Her smile is warm and genuine. The kind of smile you remember. It's the smile he has missed so much.

"Thanks for meeting me." He starts, "I just really needed to talk to you about something. And I needed to do it in person." She nods at him, and her head cocks to the side slightly. Her eyes are sparkling, and he almost loses his words. He's always wondered how she did that. How she could look at him and make his heart race.

"You want to come home." She states for him because she already knows.

Confused, he turns to look at her, "What?" He asks. For the second time today, his mouth falls open. He doesn't know what to say. She reaches out and takes his hand, her thumb tracing the back of it as he stares at her incredulously.

"I want you to come home." Her eyes fill with tears, but she quickly wipes them away. She looks at him with such affection and love. He has never seen her look at anyone else like that before. She swallows and continues, "I want you to come home. We've wasted so much time, Henry. It's not like we need to get to know each other; we already know each other, figuratively and biblically. We've raised kids together. We both know what we want, and I'm not afraid of it anymore. Come home."

She waits for him to respond. She knows he's processing everything she said; she also knows he has yet to hear her. Not really, anyway.

"I wasn't expecting that." He smiles. He was prepared for a more extensive conversation. He was ready to have to fight for her. He's not sure why he was surprised by her response. He is confident enough in himself that he feels he can handle anything she throws his way.

"I know. Honestly, neither was I. But I'm tired of being without you. I miss you. I'm not saying we jump right to getting re-married. But I am saying to come home, to me. You're mine. Always."

His hands reach up behind his neck and rub his temples. His mind is racing. He looks down into her beautiful eyes and sees the strength there. He considers the determination on her face and the conviction of what she wants.

"And you're mine." He leans over the table, and his lips meet hers for the first time in years. It's electric.

"Let's go home." She whispers against his mouth. Then, she gets up and holds her hand out to his. They walk out of the shop and to her car hand-in-hand. Their lives officially started anew. Their hope is alive. Their love is strong. The logistics may still be unknown, but that doesn't matter now.