Polaroids

he doesn't come home

Dedicated to @shieldingthesunset because she's an awesome friend on Wattpad and her stories are perf x

Inspired by:

'So you can keep me

Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

Holding me closer 'till our eyes meet

You will never be alone, wait for me to come home.'

Ed Sheeran: Photograph

__________________ ***

They can't wait for him to come home after so long, can't wait for his broad figure to come through the doors and light up the house once again after so long.

His daughters are sitting on the window seat, staring out into the night sky for a view of the car that seats their father. It's long past their bedtime and they should be well asleep by now but the entire family knows that this occasion; his visits were always an exception to the household rules.

The clock ticks on the mantelpiece, a blue vintage bird swinging side to side as the seconds tick by. It's a battered old clock, one that really should have been thrown away but because he gave it to her, she can never bring herself to throw it away.

She looks outside the windows every few seconds, biting her lip.

"He's late today," She mutters under her breath, "That complete utter asswipe! Out of all the days to be late, he chooses today?"

She wrings her hands unconsciously and straightens then un-straightens her hair. Half an hour has passed already and there is still no sign of him. One of her daughters pushes herself off the window seat and wraps around her for comfort, but it doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel safe.

An hour has passed before the doorbell rings and both daughters jump up in excitement, giggling as they race past. All the clouds of misery are pushed away by the ray of happiness that only he can bring to the family.

His lateness is forgotten, and the only thing that she can focus on right now is that in just two steps he'll be there, in their home, together with the rest of the family. In two steps she'll be in his arms of safety, she'll be with the man she has loved for nine years, the man she has never stopped loving.

"Leave the door Julia," she scolds her daughter as Julia pulls on the handle, but she's not mad, not really. She's just as excited as they are to finally lay eyes upon him after six years in the army. She rushes to open the door and is preparing to run into his arms when the sight at the front door makes her stop dead.

The colonel, along with her husband's best friend is standing there on the doorstep, faces solemn and guilty. They can't bring themselves to look into the eye of a widow and tell her the news.

But she knows.

"No, no, no," she begins shaking her head, "That idiot has to come home, he promised me. That fucking asswipe doesn't break his promises."

"I'm so sorry Helen. There was nothing that could be done."

"Don't tell me that nothing could be done! He's coming back to me okay? I know he will."

One of her daughters tugs on the ends of her skirt and wraps herself around her legs.

"Mommy, where's Daddy?"she asks.

"He's coming sweetie. He's just running a bit late." She tells her daughter, stroking her hair. She can't tell whether she believes it or she's trying to convince herself.