“Hey Melany.” Jim’s voice was tight and rough over the phone. “Are you alone?”
I looked at my friends around the room, chattering and laughing.
“Um, no?”
“Good. I, uh, don’t really know how to say this. Max died in action a couple weeks ago.”
The world stopped.
“Oh my God.”

The day of his deployment. ‘Hey soldier,’ I call as he walks away. He turns. ’Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?’ His eyes light up and he’s back in two strides. Wrapping his arm around my waist he presses his lips to mine. So tender and gentle. He knows it’s my first kiss, ever.

“His funeral was five days ago, in Oregon. His parents didn’t know how to get in contact with you so they sent me an email, but I got it late. The sandstorms have been wreaking havoc with communications.”

The Skype dates at random times during the day. Memorizing his face over and over. Savoring every moment.

“Melany, are you still there?”

The special mission. No communication allowed. Weeks of silence.

“Say something, Mel, please.”
“I can’t breathe.”