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knew what I was going through. Now I don’t even have that. I have to run around telling everyone you’re some sort of communication technician in the Eighteenth Airborne Corps. Do you know how stupid that makes me sound? You’re never here, and when you are, you never put on a uniform. It’s ridiculous.”
    “Honey—”
    She continued, speaking so fast her sentences began to run together. “Angie’s learned how to swim and you’ve never been in a pool with her. The damn next-door neighbor’s teaching her to ride a bike. She’s going to be six in a month and you haven’t been to a single birthday she can remember.”
    She stopped, clearly wishing she hadn’t said these things on the night before I deployed. She began to cry. “It’s not fair. Why is it always you? Tim left the Unit. Why can’t you do the same?”
    Tim was a friend who had just retired from the military and started his own security consulting business. It would do me no good to tell her that Tim was still conducting dangerous work—maybe more so because he no longer had the backing of the U.S. government. I embraced her, whispering in her ear, “It’s not always me. There’re plenty of guys like me. I’ve told you I’m done. This is my last tour.”
    She began to sob. “You’ve said that before.... I worry all the time.... I’m afraid when the phone rings. It’s always the same man telling me you’re okay. I think to myself, Why would I think he’s not okay?, then realize the call is because someone else is dead. One of these days he’s going to tell me you’re dead. I can’t do this anymore. . . .”
    I knew then that something had broken; something inside Heather had collapsed under the strain. She had always known the importance of my work, and had given me unwavering support through absences at Christmas, birthdays, and anniversaries. She had been my biggest cheerleader, but something had changed. It sank in for the first time that this really was my last tour. I love the mission with a passion. More than just a job, it defines who I am. But make no mistake, I love my family more.
    I held her close, stroking her hair. “Shhh. That’s not going to happen. Look, I’ll talk to Kurt, see if I can get a weekend at home after the lockdown, so I can be at Angie’s birthday. That’ll be a start, won’t it?”
    Heather looked at me, her face softening. I had hoped that night that committing to come home for Angie’s birthday would be the first step toward Heather’s believing in our new future.
    Before I could say anything else, Angie came scampering in from outside. “Dad! The food’s on fire!”
    Heather broke the embrace and looked into my eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that.” She sniffled and wiped the tears from her face. She gave me a halfhearted smile. “Go save the steaks. You can save the world tomorrow. We’ll see you in a month.”
    I smiled back, kissed her on the lips, and jogged out to the grill.
    After dinner, Heather went to clean the kitchen and I took Angie to her room on my back. I turned out the lights and lay next to her.
    “Dad, did you know Mr. Paul’s going to teach me to ride a bike?”
    “Mom told me that. I can’t wait to see you do it.”
    I answered nicely but wanted to leap out of bed, run next door, and punch good ol’ Mr. Paul in the mouth. Maybe I wanted to punch myself, I don’t know.
    “Will you watch me when you get back?”
    “Of course I will, doodlebug. Go to sleep.”
    She closed her eyes but kept talking. “How long are you going to be gone this time?”
    I felt an acid bile in my stomach. “Same amount of time, but this will be the last time for a while.”
    “How come you always have to go? Mr. Paul never goes away. How come he gets to play with Megan all the time?”
    Angie was old enough to make connections between my life and the lives of others. Looking at her by the glow of the nightlight, I felt more torn than I ever had in my life, pulled