Lindsey had been gone for an entire year. Combat boots pulling through enemy territory and full anxiety coursing through Hayley's veins through each and every day she was gone. Afraid of a letter and a casket pulling a pale face to her door. Afraid that she'd come back without a leg or lost an eye. The stakes were too high for Hayley, and that's why she'd screamed at Lindsey before she left on the mission.

"You can't do this to me, you can't just leave me and expect me to stay here all happy and content, Lindsey. You can't act like this isn't hurting me, too!"

"I can't just not go, I don't have a choice, and you can't stop me from doing this, even if I did. This is what I want to do, for me, and for you. I'll be back. I promise."

"You can't fucking promise that you fucking bitch." Hayley had snarled, "It's an entire year. A whole fucking year. I can't not see you for that long, it's not... I can't do that. You can't do this to me."

Lindsey had screamed something nasty back before slamming the door shut on her way out. She wasn't allowed to video call, to send a single letter, to have a single text. It was risky, this was a dangerous deployment. This was life or death. And for an entire 365 days, Hayley was anxious, terrified, depressed. And worse of all, which is something she would have never expected, she was touch-starved. She hadn't felt anything but inanimate objects for an entire year. She considered being with somebody else. They'd made an agreement a long time ago when Lindsey's career first started that it would be okay, but Hayley refused.

Lindsey was her one and only.

But when October 27th came around, an entire year later, everything in Hayley's bones peaked, she was afraid. She was lonely, and she felt trapped.

There was no casket. There was no funeral. It was 8 at night when the door opened downstairs, and Hayley felt her heart leap in her throat as she jumped up from bed, and sprinted down the stairs. Lindsey hadn't even dropped her bag before Hayley jumped on her and cried into her shoulder, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, Lindsey. I'm so sorry, I missed you. So much... Too much. I love you, so much. So, so much." She's babbling, unsure of how to push her emotions into words, but when Lindsey kisses her, passionately and with as much vigor as a whole year's worth of regret can convey, she knows she understands.

And she knows she's going to be okay.