“What happens if I don’t come back?” he asked me, desperately clutching my hands as if I could shield him from all of his vulnerabilities.

I pushed my head off of his shoulder a bit to look him in the eyes, as I tried to speak without choking up. “I­–I don’t know. I guess your going to have to try your hardest to live and come back to me, Yongguk.”

He scowled, blurry tears pooling up in his softened, auburn eyes. I sat back even farther and while untangling our hands, I reached up, and wiped them away with my thumb. I wanted to see his usual gummy smile; I never wanted to see him cry, to see the happy gleam in his eyes go away.

He tilted his face into my palm, and kissed it, his hot breath tickling my wrist. There was a slow pause before he spoke again. “What is your wish?”

I frowned as I thought about my wish. Outside of our bedroom windows, the thunder crackled and sputtered, while the rain danced it’s own merry little performance. Like my husband’s leave was a joyous occasion.  

My wish was simple. It was for him to come back to me. But, what if he came back to me…dead? As a corpse, cold as ice. What if he came back to me scared of everything that moved? Jumping at the littlest of sounds. Having nightmare after nightmare. What if he came back to me, limbs broken? With no one even bothering to fix them. What if he came back, hollow? A shell of his former cheerful self. A shell that just ate and slept. A shell that didn’t smile anymore, or joke anymore.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Yongguk had me in his arms. Murmuring sweet, tender nothings, while gently rocking me back and forth.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wanted to be strong, and not crumble when he was too. I wanted to be his rock, to be the one keeping the raw waters of fear, and self-destruction from lapping at his ankles.

His eyebrows knitted themselves into a worried furrow. “Why would you be sorry? Don’t think this is the time to be strong. You were strong when you needed to be; now…it’s just us. So break. Break and tell me your selfish wish.”

Now it was my turn to clutch to him for dear life, and be the one that couldn’t keep it together. Wrenching and twisting my fingers into his dark gray t-shirt, I said, “My wish is for you to come back to me. But not damaged, hallow, or broken, but as my true husband and lover. The one that writes long love raps instead of songs. The one that post deep, black and white pictures on his Instgram. The one that wakes me up in the morning with a chaste kiss, instead of a rough makeout. The one that bribes my assistant with expensive chocolates from Berlin just so that he can see me. Even when he has to prepare for a comeback. I…just want you to come back to me as you, Yongguk.”

He looked at me and smiled. The gummy smile that showed all his gums, and was sincere. A refection of the man I loved.

“Is that your wish?” he asked me.

I nodded, clutching onto his shirt tighter. “Yes. That is my selfish wish.” I said, tilting my head up so that I could see his face.

“Ok,” he whispered, “if that is your wish. I promise that I will come back to my wife, as a whole person, and keep all of my personality traits. Not as a hallow shell, dead, or damaged. I swear on my honor, and love to you. I love you baby.”

“I love you too,” I whispered, closing my eyes, and leaning myself onto him. He slowly rocked side to side, and together we both drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, he left for war. Leaving me behind to wait. To wait for my husband to return home, whole and himself.