I sit at our kitchen table, waiting for something to happen.
The sirens keep wailing passed the house.
My heart beat was screaming in my ears. Threatening to burst open the ear drums.
Time went in slow motion. Time was painful.

2 hours earlier
The cell phone buzzed on top of the kitchen counter. I was getting food prepped for dinner.
“Hello?”
“Babe?!”
“What’s going on?”
“There’s a problem downtown. My partner and I have to go. I promised you I’d call you if something happened.”
Tears were flooding my lids. “Hey, you come back to me, understand? You stay safe!”
“I love you.”
Stay strong. “I love you too. I will see you soon.”
Then there was a deafening silence.

I should be used to the feeling. Used to the feeling that my husband may not come home to me.
People never lied when they said marriage is hard.
Only sometimes do I think being a police officers wife is harder.

The door opens, and in comes my husband.
Relief knocked me down, and I collapsed in his arms.
“I knew you’d come back.”
“I always will.”