Champagne Kisses: A Timeless Love Story by Krista Lakes

eyes, feeling the tears start to swell behind my eyes. I knew they would escape at any moment.
    "I know. It's my duty and I have to. I have your address, though. I'll write you as soon as I get settled." Dean's voice was soft and low with a comforting tone to it. I knew he was as close to breaking as I was, but he was trying to comfort me. "You have my address. It won't be long before we see each other again."
    I gave a short nod. My chest was going to explode with the pressure growing in my heart. How did people do this? How did people say goodbye to the ones they loved? How did military husbands and wives do this on a regular basis? I had only known Dean for less than a week, and I was about to lose it. I couldn't imagine the pain of someone with years of love saying goodbye.
    I sniffed, the tears threatening to overwhelm me. I didn't want to say goodbye. I would have given anything in that moment for him to stay. We had amazing chemistry, and I wanted to know where we could take it. I wanted to know now, not when he got back.
    "I'm giving serious thought to holding onto your ankle and not letting go, like a little kid. You're going to have to drag me onto the airplane because I'm not letting go," I said. He let out a low chuckle with a sad smile.
    "I'm sure the stewardesses will be okay with that. I gave serious thought to just packing you into my duffel bag and taking you with me. I'd rather have you than my boots any day." He touched my cheek, as if to feel me smile. I wanted him to remember me smiling.
    "If I'm on your ankle, do you think they'd still give me peanuts?" I asked. Dean snickered and kissed my forehead. The airline attendant was calling out for the last passengers. It was time for Dean to leave.
    "I have something for you," Dean said. His voice held such sadness, and the pressure around my chest was intense. I silently begged for the world to stop spinning. "Read it after I'm on the plane."
    I nodded weakly. The attendant was calling out again. Dean swallowed hard. He ran his fingers down my hair, the crooked smile I loved crossing his face. He cupped my chin in his fingers and kissed me. I breathed him in. He smelled like soap and sunshine. His mouth was warm and minty. A small patch of beard he missed shaving scratched at my cheek. His hands were strong as he pulled me into him for this one last kiss.
    He let me go, his hand caressing my cheek as he stepped back. I kept my eyes closed for a moment, trying to remember every detail. When I opened them, he was walking into the gate. He turned at the last moment, giving me one of his trademarked crooked smiles. He hesitated, as though deciding whether to actually get on the plane or run back into my arms, but he turned and stepped through the door. And then he was gone.
    ***
    T he car ride back to our condo was silent. Kimberly sat in the backseat, her head resting against the window as she stared off into space. Her cheeks were dry, but every once in a while she let out a quiet whimper. Jenny drove, her jaw clenched and her knuckles white around the steering wheel. The letter Dean had given me sat in my pocket, but I wanted to be alone to read it.
    When we arrived back at our tiny rental, we all disappeared into different corners of the house. Later, we would finish packing and make the long drive home, but for now, we each wanted to be alone. The boys of summer were gone and off to war, and we all knew that they may never come home.
    I sat on the edge of my twin bed, the sunlight streaming in around my shoulders. My hair was hot on the back of my neck, so I drew it up into a ponytail and out of my face. I held Dean's letter in my hands, almost afraid to open it. There were a million things, both exhilarating and terrifying, I hoped it could say.
    With trembling fingers, I unfolded the paper, smoothing out the creases from the trip in my pocket and began to read:
    Dear Rachel,
    I've fallen hard for you. No one has ever made me feel the way you do. I don't