Return to Me (Soldier!America x Reader)

Return to Me

Its been six months.

Six months since his last letter.

Six months since you last communicated.

Six months since he last said "I love you".

Six months since you had any proof he was alive.

Six months.

- - - - - - -

Today was a day of celebration.

The radio screamed it, the neighbors grilled it, the cars honked it, and everyone in America - everyone around the world - cheered it at the top of their lungs. From New York City and London to Warsaw and Moscow, the world was giving a breathe of relief because the war was finally over.

Germany surrendered.

Yet somehow, you would have never believed it if the radio announcement hadn't come through that early morning. All of those men never returning home didn't make you feel like it was over. All of those men like your neighbor's son down the street.

And your husband.

You fiddled with your wedding ring, sliding it around and around on your finger, gazing out the window at your celebrating neighborhood. Never before had you seen everyone so lively. The good news had brought such spirits back in the people.

You tried not to imagine what you and Alfred would be doing right now. You tried not to think about his wide, lop-sided grin as he grilled steaks in the backyard, you in the house making salt potatoes and salad, hearing him call you his cheeky pet name "babe" as he asked you get him the pepper.

The ring felt colder than usual today. So did the bed.

It was typically hard for you to get started with your day anymore, and you always slept in well past a decent hour. But today it felt harder than usual to get up. Even though you should have felt the same amount of happiness and pride as everyone else, all you felt was sick. You skipped breakfast and coffee, and didn't even bother to touch the radio, knowing it would just be filled with announcements of victory and cheer. Instead, you went straight for your gardening apron and slipped on your shoes. You were impatient to dig your fingers into the cool, soothing earth; to relish in the feel of grass beneath your knees and the smell of soil in the air.

Working with plants was one of the few enjoyments for you anymore. You had always had a green thumb and had always loved working outside, but it had grown less and less out of a hobby and more and more into a daily saving grace. It was the only thing that helped you take your mind off Alfred; off the "MIA" you had received in that heavy, cream envelope. Off the loneliness and lack of hope that weighed deeply upon your heart.

It seemed your sanity was found with the flowers and the earth, and your soul finally at peace with the fresh air, like God was breathing on you, erasing your clogged mind and heavy heart.