Free Fall Out (Against the Tides #1) by Katheryn Kiden Page B

call out for Brett is replaced by a struggle for a breath. Laid out in front of me is my worst nightmare. I’m guided to the seat in the front row. The casket, draped perfectly with the American flag, taunts me from ten feet away. I don’t need to see what’s inside of it to know who it is. My heart shatters in one single solitary second.
    He didn’t come home to me.
    I can’t wrap my mind around what is happening. Everyone moves around me, but it’s like I have earplugs in because I can’t make out anything anyone is saying. The only clear thing I can hear is the sound of the guns going off.
    I shoot up in my bed, clutching the sheet to my chest as I try my best to catch my breath. It’s a hard thing to do considering the fact that I can’t stop crying. My sobs echo around me in the silence and continue until I have to rush to the bathroom and empty what’s left in my stomach. On weak legs, I manage to make my way back to the bed, trying my hardest to tell myself that it’s just a dream. The same damn dream every time and for whatever reason, I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that it’s all in my head. 
    I fall back into bed, shifting away from the sweat and tear-stained section of sheets and into the middle. Pulling Brett’s pillow against my chest, I bury my face in it, grateful that this is one of the last times I will ever have to go without him all night. Having him close is what I need. He’s the piece that makes me whole, and when he isn’t here I feel incomplete. 
    I know sleep is out of the picture for the rest of the night. Instead of even trying, I keep myself wrapped around his pillow while scrolling through photos and voice messages he’s left me. The stupid little videos on my phone make me both laugh and cry, but his voice calms something in me. It keeps me sane and every time he tells me that he’ll see me soon, I believe it a little bit more.
    Thank God for technology.
     

FOR THE PAST eight months I’ve lived as if I were single, minus the Skype sessions and love for Brett. I put stuff wherever I wanted it, slept on whatever side of the bed I wished, and did things my way. Now I have to change back into wife mode. Usually I don’t let myself touch anything until I know he’s on the plane and on his way home to me, but, thanks to a little pushing, I forced myself to do it early. This time I made myself do things differently and act like Brett is just on a trip instead of in an active war zone for two more days. Mainly because my best friend has been on my case about it since we found out when he was coming home.
    “Quit worrying,” Emerson chuckles from behind me.
    “Not worried,” I mumble, lying my ass off.
    She leans back against the doorframe, tucking her thumbs into her pockets and I turn around so she can’t see my face. “Mhm, you think I’m stupid. Honey, I’ve known you for going on ten years so don’t be an asshole. I know when you’re lying. When you’re worried you get this weird look on your face and you stare out into space.”
    “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Em.”
    Sarcastic comment in 3...2...1…
    “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t have the slightest clue what it’s like to wonder if someone is going to make it home safely from a war zone.”
    Turning back around, I stare her down from across the room. Casual looks good on her and she knows it, even if she is being an asshole. Instead of the usual uniform, her loose black hair, tight jeans and low cut shirt accentuate everything about her, including her sassy attitude.
    “Don’t lay that shit on me, Emerson. You chose to do what you do. You chose to enlist and you chose the path you took once you did. You always wanted to protect everyone with a gun like the boys, but you took it a step further and decided to protect everyone from the shadows. That was you calling the shots.”
    She watches me for a second with a blank look on her face before finally speaking again. “And you