We stayed together through his first deployment, committing to long distance – late nights and early mornings with a pixelated version of my boyfriend in a dusty war-torn country on the other side of the world. Then Cain proposed. It was on a call. He stepped back from his laptop, and dropped to one knee. There was no engagement ring, we were supposed to pick it together but by the time he got back it seemed like a needless expense and he already had the wedding ring, his mother’s wedding ring. When I said yes, when I burst into tears, his unit busted in cheering and hugging him. It was a special moment. I called Claire first. Then everyone else. A few months later came that other phone call. Over five years ago now. I can still hear the clipped no-nonsense voice. I knew from the moment I answered that it was about Cain.

In my head this phone call had come countless times but now it was really happening. I couldn’t move.

‘At approximately zero four hundred this morning a patrol including Lance Corporal Phillips was targeted by a troop of insurgents. A rocket-propelled grenade was directed at the vehicles, one of which was occupied by Lance Corporal Phill –’

‘He’s dead,’ I said. Gravity intensifying, my stomach contracting. The one person who could conceivably replace my family, the love of my life and he was gone already.

‘Your fiancé was in the range of the blast and has sustained serious injuries. He is currently at the NATO Multinational Medical Unit in Kandahar Airfield undergoing treatment.’

He’s alive, I thought. Thank God. The man was still speaking but I interrupted. ‘Is he… will he survive?’

‘His condition is serious but stable. He has sustained injuries to his left side with some glass fragments and shrapnel cutting through his protective gear, he also suffered a fracture to his left thumb and has sustained a ligament and bone injury to his right knee. Medical staff are working on him. We are hopeful that he will regain consciousness in the next twenty-four hours and be back home in the coming months, if not weeks.’

‘I…’ No words came, my head was swimming.

‘He’s lucky to be alive, but he is alive and that’s the most important thing. In the ensuing firefight he was pulled away to safety.’

I knew two things then: one, Cain’s military career was over; and two, he would never be the same man again. I would later learn it was Axel who had dragged him to safety. An act that earned him the New Zealand Gallantry Star. How different things might have been if it was Axel riding in the front vehicle and Cain had saved his life.

•

‘When you were young,’ Cain croons.

‘Sorry?’

‘You were humming it, the song.’

‘I was,’ I say. Was I?