The cruise terminal was crowded with families waiting for their loved ones to return. Every time the doors opened, my heart raced.
My husband, Ryan, had left for another assignment when I was seven months pregnant. He’d missed the delivery, the exhausting first weeks, and countless sleepless nights.
Our daughters were already three months old, and he had never held either of them.
We had originally planned to reunite at home, but I couldn’t bear waiting any longer.
With my father-in-law, Gerald, helping with the luggage and babies, I’d traveled to the port city to give Ryan a surprise.
I imagined him dropping his suitcase, gathering our daughters into his arms, and finally becoming the father he’d promised to be.
During his months at sea, he’d called whenever the ship’s connection allowed.
“Once I’m back, sweetheart, things will be different,” he always promised.
