Fisher's Light(4)

“I have to go back, Lucy, I have to. I can’t be here when my friends are over there fighting for everything I believe in and risking their lives,” he explains.

Hearing him say that he can’t be here breaks my heart. Why isn’t our life together on this island enough for him? I love that he has this need to protect our country and our freedom, but at the same time, I hate it because it takes him away from me.

And sends him back just a little more broken every time.

After all the things he’s been through, he asked to go back. I want to be angry, I want to scream and cry and beg him not to leave me again, but I can’t do that. Deep in my heart, I’m still so very proud of him for fighting for our country. I admire him for doing something so scary and selfless, and the very idea that he would willingly return to that hellhole reminds me of how strong and amazing he is. It also makes me dread what will happen the next time he comes home, makes me fear which pieces of the man I love will be claimed by this war. I worry things will only get worse, and that scares the hell out of me.

“I just don’t understand why you keep doing this to yourself. Why you keep putting yourself through this. What about us? What about our lives? We talked about starting a family, but how can we do that if you aren’t here?” I ask him, hating the weakness in my voice.

“Jesus, Lucy! How can you even think about bringing children into this world right now? What kind of future would they have if this shit never ends?” he argues.

There’s no use in trying to hold back the tears at this point. They fall down my cheeks and Fisher immediately comes over to me and pulls me into his arms.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to yell,” he tells me softly as he kisses the top of my head. “I just need you to understand how important this is to me. I can’t stand the idea that my men, my brothers, are over there without me. They leave their families and they put their lives on hold to fight this war and I need to do the same. I HAVE to do the same. I love you, Lucy, but I need to do this. Please, tell me you understand.”

I hold onto him as tightly as I can as we sway back and forth in the kitchen and I give him a silent nod. He loves me, we’re building a life together and nothing else should matter. We’re strong and we can make it through anything. We will make it through anything because Fisher has always promised me that he will find his way back to me. I believe him with every piece of my heart and I will support whatever decisions he makes because I have faith in him and in us. This is just a tiny bump in the long road of our lives together. We’ll get over it and everything will be fine, I know it.





Chapter 2




Lucy

Present Day

Dear Fisher,

I guess this is it, huh? After almost fourteen years together, starting a life of our own on this island, five tours of duty and countless letters I’ve written you through it all, I finally go out to the mailbox and see something I’ve always dreamed of: an envelope with your handwriting on it. For one moment, I actually thought you’d changed your mind. That all the awful things you said to me were just your way of coping after everything you’d been through. I was still here, Fisher. I was still here, holding my breath, waiting for you to come back even though you told me you never would. You always said you’d find your way back to me. Out of all the lies you’ve told me, this one hurts the most.

Enclosed you will find the signed divorce papers, as requested. I hope you find what you’re looking for. I’m sorry it wasn’t me.

Lucy

I stare at the note in my hand, the creases that run through the words so worn from the number of times I’ve folded and unfolded this thing that I’m surprised the paper doesn’t tear right in half. I can still see little smudges in the ink where my tears fell on the page as I wrote the note last year. I can remember that day like it was yesterday and the pain in my heart is still just as fresh as it was then, even though I’ve convinced myself that I’m fine and I’m happy and I’ve moved on.

I am fine.

I am happy.

I have moved on.

Dammit.

Looking around my teenage bedroom, complete with the same pearlescent wallpaper with tiny pink roses, white, four-poster canopy bed and plush rose-colored carpeting, I realize maybe that’s not exactly the case. Moving back home after my divorce probably wasn’t the best idea, but there was nowhere else for me to go and nothing else for me to do. I’ve worked at Butler House Inn since we moved to the island when I was a teenager and my parents took over running the family business. Butler House was my grandparents’ legacy and my parents’ nightmare all rolled into one. When both of my grandparents passed away the year I turned sixteen, my parents thought a fresh start in a new place was just the thing our family needed. They uprooted me from my quiet little life in the city right before my sophomore year of high school, moving me out to an island where I knew no one. Little did they know, my grandparents didn’t leave Butler House in the best condition when they died. It took a lot of years and every penny in my parents’ savings just to get it back into the black, and by that point, my parents had had enough. Butler House was situated on a prime piece of island real estate, so there were quite a few investors who came sniffing around at that time, offering to purchase the inn. Even though my parents were exhausted and at an age where they just wanted to retire and relax, they couldn’t imagine handing over our family’s legacy to a stranger.