October 10th, 2015, 22:50
She was sitting in the situation room alone. Someone was threating the government; the President; her. It frustrated her to no end that she didn't have any clue as to who was doing it, and more importantly – why. She let out a sigh – this wasn't going to end tonight. But she needed to take action. She didn't know when they would strike again, and her job consisted of many flights across the world. After barely returning from Iran, she wasn't willing to take a chance now.
If you're reading this, it means my biggest fear came true. If you're reading this it means either you don't know where I am, or someone had already informed you that I have died. If you're reading this, it means I failed as an analyst for the second time in my life; and this time it cost my life.
I'm sure they already told you by now – someone sent a threat by taking over Air Force One. I'm sure you realized soon enough that I knew it meant someone is threatening to take down my plane as well. I hope you can understand that I couldn't let this control me or my work – if I got up on the plane, it's because I had to do it.
Please forgive me. I don't know enough right now to tell you what happened, and I'm not sure I ever will. Forgive me for leaving with so little information, for risking my life like this. Forgive me for keeping you in the dark, for not warning you that you might end up losing me. Forgive me for ever taking this job, for bringing this terror into our lives.
Henry I know you're probably looking for answers, blaming Dalton for this. Don't. Please. It's not important anymore. You're a wise man, a brilliant one actually. Find an answer, know why they did this. For the country's sake, and for your own piece of mind.
Baby, you're the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing when I close my eyes. You're always in my thoughts, in my dreams, in my heart. I'm sorry I left without a proper goodbye, without telling you it might be the last time you get to see me, to hold me, to kiss me. God knows how much I wanted to. I love you, and I love the 3 perfect gifts you have given me, more than anything in the world.
27 years of marriage, 30 years of friendship. You have been there for every part of my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way. You've been there for the laughs and for the cries, for the successes and for the failures, when I was down and blue and when I was happy. You held my hand when I needed support, you whispered soft words in my ear when I was feeling insecure. You loved me like I never thought anyone could; like I never thought was possible. Please know that I died happy, because I got to share a life with you.
I have one final request. Henry, you're a good man. The best. I want you to be happy, please. Don't be alone, don't. Find someone, anyone, to fill your heart. I know you're probably thinking that there's no room left, that I have taken up all the space, but Henry, try, please. For me. I need to know you'll be okay. I need to know there's someone out there that will hold you at night, that will kiss you when you wake up in the morning.
I will forever love you; I will forever be yours.
She left the situation room and headed home. In her hand was the letter she wrote, stains of her tears covering the paper, making the ink smear across the lines of her neat hand writing.
She climbed upstairs to their bedroom, but he wasn't there. She wondered if she'll ever get the chance to know all the secrets he was keeping from her; if she'll live to see the day where they retire, and have all the time in the world to talk. She hid the letter in the sweatshirt that was once his, that held her smell and her hair. He used to take it out when she was gone too long, breathe in her scent, hold it to ease some of the yearning in his heart. She knew it'd be the first place of comfort he would seek if anything ever happened to her.
She was sitting on the bed when he came in silently. He had hoped she was already sound asleep. But he took one look at her to realize she was crying softly, that she was a wreck just like he was. He moved to stand in front of her, his fingers lifting her chin so she could face him. Gently, he wiped her tears from her cheeks. Standing up, he pulled her to his embrace, and she sobbed while he rubbed her back and tried to soothe her. It was all they had left – each other's embrace. And he prayed that it would be enough; that the warmth of his body and the softness in his kisses would take all her problems away; would make her feel safe, even though he didn't know what he was protecting her from.
Broken, they entered the bed and snuggled closer to each other. They did not speak; no words were able to relieve the pain they were feeling; not ones they could say anyway. They did not sleep; their minds were racing, unable to quiet down. They were sharing the same bed, holding onto each other, so so close, but so far apart. It was, the beginning of the end.