Love Me More Read online

  "What else is there to say?" My voice scares me. It is flat. Emotionless. But inside I am fucking chaos. My heart is splintering and stabbing my ribs and stomach, and I'm bleeding from the inside out. My eyes are burning with tears that are threatening to spill over. My head hurts from the intensity and the anger and the willpower it is taking to not break down into a bawling mess and just give up.

  I hear him mumble, and normally, that would send me into a whole new dimension of furious, but I let it go. I'm not going to let his passive aggressive bullshit get to me. Not tonight. Is this it? I mean if you are still arguing and fighting there is hope, right? The problem is when you don't care to fight and argue anymore...is there any hope left?

  I go to the bathroom and close the door. I hear the Xbox power on, and soon there are sounds of men yelling and gunfire from a video game in our living room. The sound grates on my nerves. How he can stand to play that shit is beyond me. I don't get it. It's sort of ironic. He says it's his way of de-stressing, that these games are nothing like real life, and makes me sound childish and silly for thinking they are even remotely connected. I don't get it, but why try. Finn does what Finn does, and it doesn't make sense to me anymore. I don't understand this new Finn, the angry, lost Finn that consumed the old Finn who stole my heart.

  I picture myself walking with purpose into the living room, snatching the gaming console out of its spot in the entertainment center, and running out to the street where I would smash the Xbox onto the pavement as hard as I could. I picture the black casing exploding and flying like shrapnel and its electrical components being exposed like an open wound.

  That would get Finn's attention. That Finn would care about. Unfortunately, I don't have the balls to do something like that because not only would that get Finn's attention, it would probably earn myself a trip straight to the hospital when Finn knocked my ass out. Not that he's ever hit me or that I'm even scared he would hit me, I just imagine his anger would be great. Not to mention the pretty penny that would leave my bank account when we replaced the console.

  I turn on the shower to help drown out the noise of gunfire and explosions, and undress. I stare at myself in the mirror. It's not often that I do this anymore. I usually avoid mirrors when I'm naked. I try to keep myself as covered as possible. I'm a ghost of what I once was. I look tired, dejected, and empty. My eyes aren't as bright as they used to be. My hair looks flat and lifeless. My stretch marks look angry. I feel pathetic and worthless.

  I used to be pretty, and skinny, with a flatter stomach and hip bones that I was proud of. I was hard on myself back then, wishing I could just lose a few more pounds.

  Now, I have a mom pooch and stretch marks on my stomach, breasts, and thighs. My boobs are bigger but also saggier from breastfeeding.

  I try to see the changes of my body as beautiful, because it gave my daughter, Olivia, life and nourishment. All these moms are constantly shouting body positivity on Facebook, saying things like "I earned these stripes," but I think we just say those things to make ourselves feel better while we quietly cry inside and would sell our soul to have our old body back. Stretch marks aren't pretty. They aren't special. I tried, I did. I tried to see them as "tiger stripes" and a sign of my motherhood. But I see them as flaws, and part of the reason my husband will no longer touch me. I hate them. But those bitches are forever.

  I will remember one of Finn's bad days until the day I die. I was sitting on our bed, having just put Olivia in her crib for the night when he snapped. He had been withdrawn, and his was face tight with stress, dark circles were pronounced under his eyes. I could tell he hadn't been sleeping, but I pushed him anyway. I pressed for a reaction, any reaction instead of the withdrawn, ambivalent attitude I had gotten from him for days. I begged for an honest conversation about where our marriage was going, why we weren't sleeping together, and for him to tell me what I could do to fix our marriage. I would do literally anything. And Finn, in anger, had told me he no longer found me attractive, that the pregnancy had been hard on my body. The emotional pain that those words caused me, I felt so deeply, it wounded physically. My stomach hurt, my heart dropped, and it took everything I had in me to not let him see me cry. I'll never forget the feeling of rejection and sadness from the one person I loved so dearly, so deeply. I hurt me to my core. Those feelings and pain have imprinted on me, stained me, leaving its mark on me permanently.

  I run a finger over one of the deeper, pinker stretch marks. It is smooth and feels like a valley in my skin. I hate the way it looks, but the way it feels fascinates me. I continue to stroke the smooth, flawed skin.

  I wish I could lose the rest of the baby weight I gained. What used to be "just a few pounds" before pregnancy became twenty pounds, and now I hate myself.

  I step into the shower. The water is as hot as I can stand it. It stings my skin, but I stand there and soak it in. I love the way it feels.

  I sob. Alone and naked in the shower.

  Finn Coming Home

  My heart is literally pounding away in my chest, like it knows that Finn is near and is trying to be with him. After a long year of lonely nights and days trying to keep myself so busy that I didn't have time to dwell on being depressed, Finn is finally coming home to me. Three hundred and sixty-five days filled with emails and Skype calls, and the occasional phone call. Fifty-two weeks of wondering if we could do this, and struggling, and twelve months of long distance relationship rocky road has landed us here. And here I am, standing alone at the air terminal, waiting to see Finn walk out of the gate and into my arms where he belongs.

  I fidget with the hem of my dress, tugging it down, and wonder if I made the right dress choice. Maybe I should have worn the other one with the stripes? But Finn has always loved this color red on me. I even wore a new cute set of red lingerie underneath to match tonight.

  I look around at all the families waiting to see their special someone walk off that flight, and you can feel the excitement in the air. There are families of servicemen waiting around me at this airport terminal that is specified for military returning from active duty. Children can't hold still, and wives are barely holding it together in these last seconds before being reunited. I see families holding signs with cute Pinterest worthy sayings to greet their Marines, and I feel like a total slacker, because I didn't even think about doing anything like that for Finn. Maybe I should have? It's too late to second guess it now, though.

  When the spouses and children see the plane land, a cheer erupts through the crowd. The children race to the window, smooshing their little hands and faces against it, leaving smudges and watching the plane taxi to the gate. Some of the wives even join in, standing behind the children, watching the plane through the window, but I hold back wanting to make sure that I get a clear view of Finn when he walks off the plane and that he can see me.

  Seconds feel like hours, and the anticipation is killing me. I feel like I'm drowning in it.

  When the plane door opens, I literally feel my heart stop. We see the first man in uniform start walking out, and my heart starts pounding away again. My heart knows that Finn is here, just a few yards away. All the children and wives rush the plane to be reunited with their loved ones. It is pure pandemonium, but the best kind.

  I scan every face for Finn's frantically, disappointed when it's not his face in the crowd walking through the gate. When I finally lay eyes on him, my entire body freezes. My heart skips a beat, and he looks years older than when he left, but it is definitely him. Anxiety took a toll on him, wearing stress lines into his once baby faced features. It makes him look years older, making him look like it's been years since we've seen each other instead of months. When he sees me, he stops as well. Recognition lights his face up and he smiles, and starts making his way to me through the waves of people.

  I can't help myself— I start running to him, as fast as my legs will take me. My body reacts without thinking, and when I reach him I pounce on Finn, throwing my whole body at him. I slam into hi
s hard chest, causing him to take a small step back. My arms snake around his neck, my feet dangling. Finn picks me up and spins me around, holding me to him tightly. I hold him in a vice grip, and I'm scared I'll never bring myself to let him go again. He squeezes me tightly, and happiness is pouring from my heart, and there isn't a thing that could make this moment any better than it already is.

  Finn places me back on my feet, but doesn't release me, which is great, because I'm a little unsteady from all the excitement. My knees feel weak, and I feel like this moment is unreal. Finn grabs my face in a greedy kiss, the angst and homesickness and need taking over. I forget that we are surrounded by hundreds of other people— wives, children, and Marines that Finn works alongside— and my hands find their way to the back of Finn's head, securing him to me, latching into his hair. Our lips collide, and my heart is whole again. I didn't realize exactly how much of me was missing while Finn was gone, until I was back in one piece again.

  Deployment was so hard, but homecoming is making every second worth it. There is no better feeling in the world than having your loved one come home safely to you. I never want this feeling to end.

  Finn pulls away from me and I physically ache. I'm not ready. I step onto his black military issued steel-toed boots, and it makes me a little bit taller. Finn smiles, as I cling to him, hugging him, absorbing his warmth and his scent.

  "I missed you so much, baby girl," Finn says, hugging me back. I can hear the smile in his voice, but I'm so much happier listening to his heart beat rapidly in his chest. He's home, and the last year already feels like a bad dream fading away.

  "I missed you too," I admit. I tried so hard to stay strong for him during this deployment so he wouldn't worry about me while he was gone. It was his first deployment, and I'm glad I got to go through this with him, as a team, as husband and wife. The last thing he needed to worry about was me while he was overseas. Military wives are strong and independent, and while I am those things, I missed him terribly. He was and is my home.

  Finn is dismissed by his commanding officer to go home, and we walk to our car in the parking lot hand in hand. We can't stop touching each other. Even in the car, he keeps raising my hand to his lips while I drive, pressing firm kisses on my knuckles. It's adorable. He won't stop looking at me either.

  "You are so beautiful," he tells me, and I can feel him staring at me so hard that I blush. I try to focus on the road, because the last thing we need is to crash and die right after being reunited, although that would be just my luck.

  "You just haven't seen me in a year," I laugh, blowing it off. I can still feel my face burning, though.

  "Yeah, but you're still beautiful," he says, pressing another kiss on my hand. A devious grin spreads across his face as he leans over and puts a hand on my bare knee.

  "What are you doing," I ask, eyeing his hand warily for a second before looking back up at the road. His large warm hand feels good on my skin, but it's making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on driving the car safely home.

  "You know," he says, grinning mischievously, "I really do love this dress on you." His hand starts sliding up my smooth thigh, pushing the dress farther and farther up my leg. I gasp, but don't protest. Thank you, God, I decided to shave above the knee today.

  When his fingertips graze my panties, he licks his lips hungrily.

  "Ah," he says, sounding disappointed, "I was really hoping you wouldn't be wearing any panties." I roll my eyes at him.

  I don't want to but I have to stop him, because I'm already getting aroused. "Finn," I say, trying fucking hard to concentrate on not killing us and driving home safely, "I have to concentrate on the road." I push his hand back down my thigh and adjust my dress. He pouts in the passenger seat. It's adorable and a tad bit sexy.

  We arrive home on base and pull into the driveway. Finn jumps out of the car, and he's in such a hurry to be home that he doesn't even bother grabbing any of his stuff out of the car. I can't stop laughing as he chases me inside excitedly, pawing at me the whole way.

  When we get inside the house and the door is safely shut, he grabs me and pins me against the back of the door. I instantly stop laughing because the desire and intensity in his eyes unsettle me.

  He kisses me deeply, his hands already pressing my skirt up again.

  "How about we try for that baby?" he asks, kissing up and down my neck. My eyes widen and my breath catches in my throat. Just those words make my stomach flutter.

  "Seriously?" I ask, somewhat in disbelief. I feel Finn nod and smile against my neck, still placing soft kisses on my throat.

  "Yeah, I think it's time," he says, peeking up at me, his hands still roaming wildly over my thighs and up my skirt. I can see him trying to hide the hope in his eyes, and I can't help it, but a huge smile spreads across my face. I nod my agreement.

  We're going to make a baby!

  When I nod, Finn matches my smile, and it breaks my heart in the best way. He's absolutely stunning. His eyes are bright and hopeful despite the bags under them from stress and exhaustion. He looks older, wearier than before he left on deployment, but he's still the same Finn. My Finn. His body is hot against mine, and he's searching my eyes for any trace of uncertainty, but finding none, his body reading mine. I smile up at him, feeling his heart pound beneath my hand. I love seeing him this happy about starting a family together. We're ready. We are totally ready.

  And before I know what's happening, I'm upside down, slung over his broad shoulder in a firemen's carry, his hands all over my ass, and I'm squealing as he carries me up the stairs, headed to the bedroom.

  Past

  I've never been a fan of doctor's visits. Today, I'm full of nervous energy and hope.

  The technician who told me her name earlier but that I've already forgotten hands me the wand under the paper-thin hospital sheet she has placed over me. She sees I'm nervous and is nice, offering to let me insert it myself. She says since I'm early in my pregnancy, we can't do the ultrasound on my tummy like in the movies. The wand is uncomfortable, but I'm too excited to care about the discomfort.

  My heart flutters with anticipation, and Finn sits at my side, holding my hand. He's fidgeting with apprehension, playing with my fingers. I see him trying so hard not to smile. We've been waiting for this moment since we saw those two little pink lines pop on the pregnancy test. I'm only about nine weeks along, but I'm dying to see my baby bean.

  The ultrasound technician is severe and beyond unpleasant. Her tone and attitude are curt, and she doesn't seem to have time for my bubbling joy, but Finn and I don't give a rat's ass. We are so thrilled to be here and to see our baby for the first time that it's easy to overlook her sour demeanor. She starts tilting the wand around with a gloved hand, trying to find different angles on the monitor.

  I don't remember ever being so happy, and my eyes are glued to the screen waiting for the technician to point out our baby. I'm not even sure what exactly I'm looking for, but I'm looking at the black and gray image, dying to see my little boy or girl. I look over at Finn, and his eyes are glued to the screen, too. He's staring at it so intently that he's stopped fidgeting with my fingers.

  The tech pushes a button on the computer, and I hear a repetitive whooshing noise, and I instantly get excited.

  "Is that my baby's heartbeat?" I ask her.

  "No," she says, never looking away from the screen. "That's the sound of your blood pumping in your uterus," she says, still moving the wand around uncomfortably. She's looking for something. I start to feel anxiety creep into my heart, and I frown. I look over at Finn who doesn't seem to realize something seems off. I chew on my lip anxiously and squeeze Finn's hand for comfort. The ultrasound tech stays quiet.

  Then the ultrasound technician says the four words that break my heart.

  "There's no heartbeat," she says, removing the wand and pulling it out from under the sheet covering me. I suck in a breath of air and all I feel is pain. I feel like I can't breathe. It hurts. I'm spe
echless and having a hard time processing what I just heard.

  "I'm sorry," she says gulping, standing up from her stool next to my table. I realize that this isn't some sick, fucked up joke. What the technician said is happening. My baby doesn't have a heartbeat. I had lost my baby before I had a chance to know him or her.

  Finn is just as shocked and just stares at the technician, speechless.

  "You can clean up. I'll notify the doctor, and he'll be in shortly," she says, making her way to the exit to give us a moment. I sit up on the table and then stand up, tears already welling up in my eyes, wanting to claw the sticky gel off my inner thighs that the tech smeared all over me when she pulled the wand out.

  Finn hasn't said a word. He's devastated. I can tell he doesn't know what to say. I don't know what to say. But I am wracked with guilt. How could this happen? What did I do wrong? This is all my fault. I feel numb, and my heart hurts as I put my clothes back on. Finn stands up after my clothes are back on and wraps his arms around me, and I finally lose it.

  I ugly cry right into his chest, smearing mascara marks onto his shirt.

  "I'm so sorry," I sob. "I'm so, so sorry." My body is wracked with violent sobs that I cannot control.

  "It's not your fault," he says, holding me to him, and stroking my hair, trying his best to comfort me. His voice is soothing, but I can hear the pain hidden beneath his calm demeanor. "It's not your fault."

  Past

  I'm at the store looking at a wall full of feminine hygiene products, trying to figure out what the fuck to buy. I've never had to purchase this shit. In all the time I've known Blair, she has never once asked me to get her feminine shit for her. She always took care of it.