Page 38 of Eternally London

A plethora of emotions invades my mind, some selfish because I’ve never been away from London for that long since we got back together. But the loudest ones are fear and an innate desire to protect her. I’ve been to Africa with the military. It’s a beautiful country, but many parts are unstable, unsafe—run by the corrupt military and threatened by the rebels.

I feel sick to my stomach, thinking of London overseas, in danger.I can’t.

“London, it’s not safe over there. Please find another story,” I plead.

I’m all for her getting some time away, but an ocean away in a volatile country isn’t what I have in mind for her. I’m certain I’m being unreasonable, but when it comes to London, I don’t care. I don’t just want her safe. Ineedher to be safe. She’s my entire world.

“I know you’re worried, but you don’t have to be. People go to Africa all the time. This story means something. I can feel it. It’s as if I need to go. I need to get away and do something important. I can’t write about politics or corruption within the soybean companies or anything else right now. I have to write about something significant. You know? I need a purpose. I’ve been so lost and sad. This is exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

“You need an escape?” My chest tightens.

“Yes, I need an escape.”

“So, you think that traveling over eight thousand miles away—far from me and your family—is what you need?” I attempt to keep my voice steady, completely aware of the huge argument that this could turn into.

Realization dawns in London’s eyes, and she places her hand on mine. “I don’t need to get away from you. I just need this. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Loïc. I don’t want to leave you, but I have to leave, just for a while.”

“You can’t leave and not leave me, London. The two go hand in hand.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” She squeezes my hand before withdrawing her touch.

“You’re not the only one who’s hurting, London. I am, too. This is a difficult time in our lives, but we’ll get through it—together. The answer isn’t running away to a place where I’ll worry about you every second.” I lean back in my chair and pull my fingers through my hair.

“I was worried about you every second when you were in Afghanistan,” she argues.

“Really?” I huff out, stunned. “We’re bringing my deployment into this? That wasn’t a choice, London. And you know it. I didn’t choose to leave you. I had to. It was my job. No one is making you do this. You can find another story here, in this country, with me.”

She nervously bites her bottom lip. “I don’t think this is a choice for me either.” She shakes her head. “I have to do this, Loïc. Please understand. I need your support in this, but I’m going regardless.”

The air leaves my lungs, as if she just punched me in the gut. “So, this isn’t a discussion? You’re going regardless? Just great,” I scoff, pushing back from the table. “Funny. I thought we were married. You know, one of those relationships where you talk things out with your spouse before making idiotic decisions. My bad.” I fall into a complete and totally irrational state. I storm out of the house, making sure to slam the door as I leave.

I’ve fought for me, for London, for our not-yet-conceived child for a year now while fighting for every soldier in this area who’s returned broken. I’m just so goddamn tired of fighting. I need to breathe.

Deep down, I know I should stop and talk this through with London. But the only sentiment that registers is rage. So much of it occupies my mind that I have to get out into the open air to process it all.

I head out through the trees that surround our house and keep walking. With each step through the pine needle–covered ground, I get farther away from the source of my anger, yet no relief comes. My heart pounds within my chest, bursting with pressure.

I finally stop at an old oak and sit at its base, overlooking the hills before me. It’s a perfect late-spring night. I sit amid the warm air of twilight. The rolling mountains, alive with foliage, are lit by the colors of the sunset. It’s heaven on earth, breathtakingly beautiful, yet the serenity doesn’t reach me.

Fucking happily ever after, I say under my breath.Who knew it’d be so hard? How fair is this?

I rake my hands through my hair. I had to trudge through the epic shitstorm of my life to finally find my eternal happiness—my London. And I’ve had to fight for happiness every day since. There’s no such thing as happily ever after. There’s only happy for now until the next pile of crap is dropped in your lap.

I know my current thoughts are being run by self-pity. Let’s face it…I’m upset about a lot of things, but the hardest pill to swallow at the moment is the fact that London needs to leave me. I don’t know how or why that could possibly make things better for us.

I can conquer any obstacle thrown at me as long as I have London by my side. But, now, she’s leaving. Chances are, she’ll be fine and come back, unharmed. It’s the small chance that she won’t that I can’t take.How can I protect her when she’s so far away from me?

The longer I sit here, the more I realize that, the one thing I do have control over—my ability to love London the way she needs—I’ve utterly failed at. For reasons beyond my understanding, she needs this. I need to man up, get ahold of my own insecurities, and support her.

I’ve been in some pretty dark places in my life, and London has loved me through them. Even when I didn’t let her, she never stopped loving me. She didn’t understand my inner demons, but she made it clear that she didn’t have to. I might not fully grasp what’s going on inside of London right now, but it’s my privilege to love her through it.

Fuck, I’m an idiot.

I sigh, standing.

I take a deep breath of mountain air, and then I walk back toward the house.

Marriage is difficult.

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