Chapter 10 - The Coward’s Letter
Sophie sat on the nursery floor holding the envelope.
“When did you write this?”
“Before deployment.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“Because I was a coward.”
She opened it.
I remembered every sentence before she read the first one.
Sophie,
I know you think I’m relieved to leave.
You’re right.
That doesn’t mean I’m relieved to leave you.
I’m relieved to leave this house because every room reminds me of what we lost.
I’m relieved to wear a uniform because people expect Colonel Parker to know what to do.
I don’t know what to do here.
I don’t know how to watch you hurt.
I don’t know how to tell you I wake up imagining a little boy running into our room.
I don’t know how to admit I sometimes sit in my truck because coming inside means walking past the nursery.
I’m afraid if I tell you how broken I am, you’ll have to carry me too.
So I keep pretending.
And every day I pretend, I can see you slipping farther away.
Sophie stopped reading.
“Why?”
Her voice shook.
“Why didn’t you give me this?”
“I thought it would make things worse.”
She stared at me in disbelief.
“I spent years thinking you didn’t care.”
“I cared too much.”
“That isn’t romantic, Ethan.”
“I know.”
“It’s cruel.”
“I know.”
She threw the letter at me.
I let it hit my chest.
“You decided what I could handle.”
“Yes.”
“You decided silence was protection.”
“Yes.”
“You decided divorce was mercy.”
“Yes.”
She stood.
“And every decision you made for me destroyed something.”
I looked at her.
“You’re right.”
Sophie stopped.
She had expected an argument.
I didn’t give her one.
“I’m done deciding for you.”
I picked up the letter.
“I’m done pretending avoidance is kindness.”
She stared at me.
“What happens when this gets hard again?”
“It already is.”
“What happens if the cancer stops responding?”
“I stay.”
“What happens if I can never have children?”
My chest tightened.
“I stay.”
“What happens if I never want to marry you again?”
That one took longer.
Sophie noticed.
Finally, I answered.
“I stay as whatever you allow me to be.”
Her eyes filled.
“That’s not fair to you.”
“Maybe.”
“But it’s finally your decision.”
She looked away.
My phone vibrated.
General Lawson.
This time I answered.
He got straight to the point.
“Parker, the Pentagon approved your promotion board.”
Sophie heard him.
I went still.
Lawson continued.
“If selected, you’ll report to Washington in six weeks.”
Six weeks.
Sophie’s treatment had months left.
I looked at her.
May you like
She looked at me.
And suddenly the choice I had once failed to make had returned wearing a different uniform.
