And by the third time I’ve almost given up.

Then it connects and all I can see is black. But her voice… I can hear her voice. “Hello?” she croaks. “Dylan?”

There’s a dog barking in the background and I can make out shapes but nothing else. “Babe? Can you see me?”

“Oh my God,” she whispers. “Hi baby.”

The dog’s barks turn to whimpers. “Can you see me?”

“Yes.”

I lean closer, trying to make out her features. “I can’t see anything, baby. It’s dark.”

“You’re cutting out. Hang on, I’m going to turn the light on.”

Dave taps my shoulder. “It’s 3 a.m. there.”

A moment later, the screen lights up and all I can see is the flannel of our bed sheets. Then it moves to a dog, and then finally, familiar bare legs I’ve dreamed about more times than not since I got here.

“Nice legs,” Dave says.

“You can fuck off now,” I retort.

I can see the side of her face, her hand as it wipes her eyes, either from sleep or from tears. Then she lifts her phone in front of her and I release a shaky breath. She’s staring at the screen, her lips parted—curved slightly—her beautiful gray eyes wide and her hair a complete mess. My heart, my world, my breath—all of it stops.

“Hi baby,” she whispers again, and I drop my gaze, just for a moment so I can gather my thoughts. I struggle to swallow and wipe my eyes on my collar.

Dave settles his hand on my shoulder and squeezes once. “Everyone’s cleared out,” he tells me. “I’ll be out front and try to give you some privacy.”

I nod, thankful for his actions and wait until I hear the door close before finally looking up at the flickering image of the girl I love, the girl I’ve missed more than words could ever convey.

“Dylan?” she asks, her once wide and hopeful eyes now narrowed in confusion.

“God, Riley. You are a sight for sore eyes.”

She laughs through her tears. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too, baby.”

“I love you so much.”

I smile. “Me too, baby.”

“What are you—I mean, are you allowed to say where you are?”

I shake my head.

“But you’re safe?”

“I’m safe.”

The dog barks again. “Is that Bacon?”

She nods. “He’s biting my feet.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been jealous of a dog before.”

She smiles, her eyes clear again. “You want to see him?”

“Yeah.”

She moves off screen for a moment, then returns with the puppy in her arms, his face next to hers. “There’s Daddy, Bacon. Say hi.” She grabs his paw and makes him wave.

“You better be taking care of Mamma,” I say.

He jumps out of her hold and she frowns. “I think he needs to go on a potty break.”

“You need to take him out?”

“No. Cameron installed a doggy door and he’s trained to go out on his own.”

My smile widens. “Cameron’s been around?”

“They all have. And your dad and Eric, too. Eric set up a security system—”

“He did? Why didn’t I think of that?”

She nods. “He didn’t like me answering the door when I was home alone.”

“He’s a good man,” I tell her. “What else has been going on?”

She shrugs. “Not much. Just missing you.”

“But they’re all taking care of you?”

“Yes, baby.”

“And you—you’re okay?”

She nods.

“And the drinking?”

“No. I’m not drinking.”

“No urge?”

A second’s pause. A moment’s hesitation. “No.”

“Riley. Don’t lie to me.”

She inhales deeply and lets it out in a whoosh. “I’ve thought about it. But I wouldn’t do it, Dylan. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

“Good.”

“Don’t worry about me, babe. Not with everything else you have going on. I’m okay. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, is there somewhere I can send you stuff? Do you guys need anything?”

“Probably. Dave will know—” and right on cue, I hear him say, “We gotta go. Meeting.”

“Fuck,” I spit.

“Already?” Riley whines. “That was so fast.”

“I know, Ry, but I have to. I think we’re still here tomorrow so I’ll try to call again.”

Dave walks over and bends so his face appears on camera. “Hey Boo,” he says.

Riley laughs and waves at the screen. “Hi Dave.”

I cover Dave’s eyes. “Ry, flash me your tits real quick.”

“Dylan!”

Dave tries to pry my fingers off his face. I don’t budge. “Come on!” I plead. “I’m a desperate, deployed man and I’m missing my girl.”

She bites down on her lip, her gaze lowered.

Dave’s trying to shrug out of my hold now. I keep him in place. “Quick, baby,” I say through a chuckle. “If you love me you would.”

“You just love my boobs,” she retorts. “Bye boys!”

“Did I miss it?” Dave yells, his view still covered by my hands.

Riley adds, “You’re lucky I love you so much.” Then she reaches up, quickly unbuttons my shirt she’s wearing, grips the sides and spreads her arms wide, smirking as she does.

Swear, I’m the luckiest asshole in the world.

Thirty-Three

Riley

I pace the kitchen, checking the time for the millionth time. It’s 6:00 a.m. On the dot. I haven’t slept. He said he’d call. Last night he called at 3. He should’ve called already. I check my phone again. 100% charge. Full volume on the ringer. I open the Skype app to quadruple check there are no missed calls. There aren’t.

Panic sets in.

Tears fill my eyes.

He wouldn’t have said he’d call if he couldn’t.

Something’s wrong. I can feel it.

I look at Bacon, fast asleep on his bed. I check the time again. 6:01.

I pace faster, my hands balling and straightening at my sides.

They’d tell me, right? If something were wrong, they’d call? No. They just show up at the door. I’ve seen it in movies. Read it in books. They don’t call.

Did he even change the address on his forms? Or whatever the fuck they have to do to let whoever the fuck know to go to wherever the fuck so they can notify if something happened.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. He probably didn’t change the address.

Without a second thought, I grab my keys, not bothering to dress and jump in my car.

I pull up to Dylan’s dad’s house and check the time on the dash. 6:02.

If it’s physically possible to have your heart beat and die at the same time, that’s what mine’s doing. I step out of the car and march to the front door, my adrenaline and fear overshadowing any sense in the situation. I knock, hard and loud, and when a few seconds pass and no one answers I start to yell and pound my fist.