Coming Home to You
Prologue
A knock came from the front door, interrupting me from my book that I was reading while resting on the sofa like the doctor had ordered. I marked my place in the book and pushed myself up from the sofa carefully seeing how I was pregnant with my first child from my fiancé, Dylan. Tossing the book on the coffee table, I walked toward the front door unsure who it could be seeing how everyone was away. I pulled the door open with a soft smile on my face, but when I saw who it was my smile fell straight to a frown.
Two men dressed in their military uniform stood at the door with their hats off and over their hearts, and I knew they were from the war department. "Miss. Arrington," one said holding out an envelope. A lump appeared down my throat feeling my eyes water as I took the envelope from the gentleman. They both saluted me before turning to walk back to the dark Sedan that sat in the driveway behind mine and Dylan's car.
Closing the door, I opened the envelope already know what it was and read the black, typed words on the paper. A sob broke from me as I backed against the wall and slid down to the ground nearly forgetting that I was in my second trimester of my pregnancy. There it was clear in black and white that my fiancé, Dylan West, had been killed in the line of duty over in Iraq. Another sob broke out of me as I crumpled up the paper into a ball and threw it across the room. I was hurt and extremely upset that he was taken from me at a time like this where I needed him the most.
He was supposed to be returning home next month for our wedding and staying until after our baby was born before having to return overseas. He had promised that he would take care of me when he turned when I had informed him of the doctor's order of being on bed rest. He promised me a family, something neither one of us had growing up being foster kids. He promised himself that he wouldn't be like his dad and leave me alone under any circumstances. He's broken dozens of promises when he was killed.
I sat on the floor crying, hugging my pregnancy belly asking why this had to happen to me now. I had no clue what to do or what I should do now that he was gone. We were gonna plan everything once he got home from moving into a bigger house for the baby and picking up names for the baby. It had become dark outside before I finally calm down enough to get up off the floor to get something to eat for me and the little miracle inside of me. I fixed me a quick sandwich not having any special cravings for anything and grabbed my kool-aid from the living room before heading into the bedroom.
I ate silently on the bed trying to think of a new plan on what to do now that I was alone. Not being married, I knew that I wouldn't be getting help from the government to help bring an income in to help with baby, but Dylan did fill out a will before he left for Iraq the second time after he had proposed. Finding his will would be a start then I could plan on everything else later afterwards.
Two men dressed in their military uniform stood at the door with their hats off and over their hearts, and I knew they were from the war department. "Miss. Arrington," one said holding out an envelope. A lump appeared down my throat feeling my eyes water as I took the envelope from the gentleman. They both saluted me before turning to walk back to the dark Sedan that sat in the driveway behind mine and Dylan's car.
Closing the door, I opened the envelope already know what it was and read the black, typed words on the paper. A sob broke from me as I backed against the wall and slid down to the ground nearly forgetting that I was in my second trimester of my pregnancy. There it was clear in black and white that my fiancé, Dylan West, had been killed in the line of duty over in Iraq. Another sob broke out of me as I crumpled up the paper into a ball and threw it across the room. I was hurt and extremely upset that he was taken from me at a time like this where I needed him the most.
He was supposed to be returning home next month for our wedding and staying until after our baby was born before having to return overseas. He had promised that he would take care of me when he turned when I had informed him of the doctor's order of being on bed rest. He promised me a family, something neither one of us had growing up being foster kids. He promised himself that he wouldn't be like his dad and leave me alone under any circumstances. He's broken dozens of promises when he was killed.
I sat on the floor crying, hugging my pregnancy belly asking why this had to happen to me now. I had no clue what to do or what I should do now that he was gone. We were gonna plan everything once he got home from moving into a bigger house for the baby and picking up names for the baby. It had become dark outside before I finally calm down enough to get up off the floor to get something to eat for me and the little miracle inside of me. I fixed me a quick sandwich not having any special cravings for anything and grabbed my kool-aid from the living room before heading into the bedroom.
I ate silently on the bed trying to think of a new plan on what to do now that I was alone. Not being married, I knew that I wouldn't be getting help from the government to help bring an income in to help with baby, but Dylan did fill out a will before he left for Iraq the second time after he had proposed. Finding his will would be a start then I could plan on everything else later afterwards.