Love Anchored

Chapter 9 - Taliah - Love Knows No Distance

I'm aware that the drive from the base is over thirty-five minutes. I rise and straighten my baby blue A-line dress, slip on my black heels, and buckle them at my ankle. Glancing at myself in the full-length mirror next to the door, I check my hair and makeup. His voice echoes in my head, saying, 'You're perfection, Angel.' I smirk, look away, and do one last scan of the room before heading into the kitchen to place the garlic bread and pizza in the oven, setting the timer. I light the candles scattered around the room, turn off the lights, creating a romantic ambiance with a subtle fruity scent, and then make my way to the front door, leaning on the wall.

Anxiety starts to kick in. I close my eyes as my heart beats faster, feeling faint. What if this is too much for him after six months deployed away from home? Now, I feel stupid for even thinking this was a good idea. What am I doing? Before I can react, I hear his car pull into the driveway. My eyes shoot open, and my breathing stops. I stand up straight, pulling my dress down at the waist for the perfect fit. Everything falls silent, and I put on a brave face.

Here I am, standing in a dimly lit room, in a different country, to meet a guy who has only been pixels on a screen and gifts in the mail for the past three years. My knees feel like they will give away at any moment. I hear his footsteps trekking up the stairs, then his key entering the lock. He opens the door with a slow push, eyes locked to the ground, saying loudly, "Dave, I'm home. Keep it down, I'm going—" his words trail off as he steps through the doorway, eyes locking on my shoes, the ones he ordered for me before he left. His eyes slowly rise to meet mine. I look back at him doe-eyed, smiling, heart beating out of my chest. Less than five seconds of silence feel like a lifetime as we linger in the moment.

His grip on his duffel and suitcase releases. Before the thud of them hitting the floor, his arms wrap around me and we fall against the wall. He leans in and kisses me like no one ever has before, the desire of never meeting in person intensifying the moment. Finally feeling the warmth of his body against mine, the sensation of our lips meshing sends my nervous system into disbelief. No words are spoken, just glances and welcoming smiles between kisses. I hold his face with one hand, threading my fingers through his hair with the other. His normally clean-shaven face has stubble rough on my cheeks. I guess it was a long journey back home.

He steps back to look at me. I let out a sigh and a giggle, trying to release some nervous energy. "Hi," he says in an overly tired, husky voice. "Hi," I giggle. "How are you here right now?" he asks in a breathy tone. "Well, I've be—" he kisses me again before I can finish my sentence. He wraps his arms around me, embracing me as he stands up straight. He lifts my feet off the floor, and with our lips still intertwined, he walks us over to the couch, where he sits, pulling my knees up as I straddle him while he gets comfortable. I nuzzle into his neck as he softly rubs my back. The joy of seeing him for the first time and laying in his embrace causes my emotions to run high. My eyes start getting watery as the tears stream out, and my breath catches a few times. He notices that I'm crying, pulling me up to look at my face. "Taliah, are you okay?" he asks in a worrisome voice. I bury myself deeper into the crook of his neck as he holds me close to his chest. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here." I continue to lay in his embrace as he comforts me. "I just didn't want to overwhelm you, being at sea for so long and never getting a moment to yourself. I should have told you I was coming." Wipping tears off my face. "This was the best way for me to return home, the way I wish I always did." He kisses me on my cheek.

The timer on the oven jolts us back to reality. I wipe my eyes and climb off Peter's lap to the couch beside him. Peter stands up and cups my chin. "I got it," he says as he leans down and kisses me on the head. He walks over to the kitchen, takes off his jacket, and folds it over the top of the couch before pushing up his sleeves to his elbows. He turns off the beeping timer and opens the oven, wafting the savory smell around the house. He peers in to see what I have prepared for us. I lean over the back of the couch to watch him pull out the heart-shaped pepperoni pizza and garlic bread. My mind wanders for a moment, capturing the entirety of him, looking perfect in all his glory, better than I could have imagined this moment to be. "You're so adorable, Angel," he says, placing the pizza out to cut and bringing it over on the wooden chopping board, placing it on the coffee table in front of me. "Can I get you a drink?" he says, walking back to the kitchen. "I bought you your favorite beer, and if you can, grab a cider for me," I respond as I unwrap the garlic bread and take a middle piece. Peter pops the tops of both bottles and hands me mine before taking a sip from his beer and settling back down. He looks picturesque in his blue and grey camos, so engrossed in the meal. I lean back into the couch, feeling full. Peter picks up a piece of garlic bread and tries to feed it to me. "Last piece." I move my head away. "I can't fit any more food in my stomach." Peter shrugs and devours it in one bite, licking his fingers. "I don't know if it is because you are here, but that was a good pizza." "Maybe it is because it was in a heart shape," I giggle. "Thank you, Angel," he says, leaning over and planting a kiss on my lips. He lets it linger for a moment before pulling away and getting up to clear the table. "Do you want to get into something more comfortable, and we can watch a movie?" "Sounds great." "I need to take a shower. Do you want to use the bathroom first to get changed and take off your makeup?" "Okay."

I walk to Peter's room to pick out something comfortable but still inviting. I scrounge around in my suitcase on his bedroom floor, pulling out some pink pajama bottoms and a white tank top. Making my way to the bathroom, I push the door closed and start getting changed, leaving my clothes in a neat, disorganized pile on the bathroom floor before taking off my makeup.