Chapter 16

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

Faith

Walking out of the bedroom, I smile when I see the picture from our wedding day hanging on the wall. I look at it every single day. I was able to get prints made before Ford left and he made sure to hang it for me. Not that I couldn't handle it on my own; it's not rocket science. However, my brother spouted off something about little sisters and best friend's wives. I didn't quite understand his mumble, but I got the gist of it. He was taking care of me, not only because I was his little sister, but because I was his best friend's wife.

I'm somebody's wife.

That's hard to grasp most days. The ceremony feels as though it was a dream. In fact, if it hadn't been for both of our families hanging around a few extra days to help me move into this house and get settled, it would be hard for me to grasp. I guess there is also the wedding band on my left hand, one that I look at often, and then the photo hanging on the wall.

Not just the wall. I bought some frames, and I have them all over the house. The nightstand, one on the kitchen counter, the living room, and I even considered one in the bathroom, but decided that was a little too far. I wanted to be able to see him everywhere. That was my goal, and I accomplished it. I'm sure when Chad gets home, he'll want to change that, but for the next few months, this is our home, one where I want a constant reminder of my husband.

Chad has been gone for two weeks. Our families are back to their lives, and I'm here on my own. I'm so thankful for Hannah and her friendship. We make it a point to have dinner together a couple of nights a week. I don't feel so alone with her around. Life is moving forward, and that is both exciting and heartbreaking. I miss him more than I thought possible. I missed him when he was gone before, but this… this feels different. This time he's my husband.

I miss my husband.

I've written so many letters that I'm worried he's going to get tired of hearing from me, but I want him to feel as if he were here. Not only that, but I also want to share this part of my life with him. Today, I start my new job, and I wrote him a letter last night telling him all about it. When he comes home, I want it to feel as though he's only been gone a few days, not months.

Glancing at the clock, I realize I've sat here too long thinking about Chad, about missing him. I'm going to be late for my first day. I quickly rinse out my coffee cup and place it in the sink to handle when I get home tonight. With one more quick glance at our wedding photo, I grab my bag and head to work.

"Good morning, class. I'm Mrs. Anthony." My smile is huge because nineteen little humans are giving me their full attention. I'm a kindergarten teacher. I get to help shape their minds and be their first real experience with learning in the school system outside of preschool. Half of my students didn't attend preschool from what their records show. My smile might also be that I'm Mrs. Anthony. Yeah, that's a big part of it.

"We're going to go around the room, and I want you each to tell me your name. When I tap your shoulder like this—" I tap my own shoulder, and they giggle "—that's when it's your turn." I make my way down the aisles of their tables and tap each child on the shoulder. For some, I have to help coax them to speak, and for others, well, I have to remind them that their classmates need a turn as well.

By the end of the day, we're all exhausted, but it feels incredible. This is what I went to school for. Kindergarten has always been my dream, and I'm living it thanks to my husband. I take my time cleaning up the classroom in preparation for the next day before heading home.

As soon as I walk into the house, my eyes go to the wedding photo. "Hey, babe," I greet. It sounds crazy talking to a picture, but it makes me feel closer to him. Besides, it's just me here. There is no one to cast judgment.

Leaving my stuff on the couch, I move to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable before moving back to the kitchen. I'm standing with the refrigerator door open, trying to decide what to eat for dinner, when my cell phone rings. I freeze, trying to remember where I dropped my stuff, and sprint toward the living room.

It's been two weeks since I've heard his voice. I usually have my phone with me at all times. The one time I don't, I get a call. Sure, I don't know if it's him, but I don't want to miss him if it is.

I scramble with my bags, shoving my hands into my purse to find my phone. I grab it and see his name. My hands shake as I hit Accept. "Chad."

"What's wrong?" There's concern in his voice.

I huff out a laugh as I plop down on the couch. "Nothing. I was in the kitchen. I've been keeping my phone with me, and the one time I didn't, it rang, and I rushed to answer it."

"Sounds like you miss your husband." His tone is much lighter.

"You could say that." The refrigerator beeps with its annoyance for being open too long, so I stand and rush to close it. "How are you?"

"I'm better now that I'm talking to you. I got a big stack of letters today."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"What? Why are you apologizing? I want to hear from you."

"That's good; I've mailed one, sometimes two, a day since you've been gone."

"Good. I want to be a part of your life, Faith."

I glance at our wedding photo on the wall. "You are." I pause, collecting myself. I don't want him to hear the sadness in my voice. He's the one who's away from home, potentially risking his life for his country. I'm supposed to be his solid foundation, and I'm going to be. "Tell me everything."

He laughs. The sound is rich, and I can tell it comes from a place deep inside his chest. "Lots of sand, and lots of heat. Long days, and even longer nights."

"But you're safe?"

"Yeah, baby, I'm safe."

My heart melts at the way he calls me baby. "I have a care package to send to you tomorrow."

"You don't have to do that."

"Come on now. What kind of wife would I be if I didn't send care packages to my husband? Is there anything you want or need? Anything nonperishable you've been craving?" I ask.

"Nah, I think we're still set."

"Then you'll just be surprised, I guess."

"A surprise from my wife sounds like exactly what I need. How was your first day?"

Tears spring to my eyes. He remembered. He's thousands of miles away in the desert, but he made it a point to find the time to call and ask about me first.

"Good." I clear my throat. "I'm exhausted, but in a good way, you know? This is what I thought my teaching career would look like. It's… incredible to know that I'm finally starting my career the way I'd always hoped."

"That's good to hear. I'm glad it went well."

"Very. My fellow teachers are friendly. I love my classroom. I took a few pictures. I emailed them, but I'm not sure if they went through."

"I haven't checked. Service is spotty, and so far, I've only found this one location that I can get a connection to call. I was lucky that my shift is tonight, so that I would be up to call you to ask about your day."

"The only thing that would have made it better is if you were here to celebrate it with me. Instead, Hannah and I are having dinner on Friday night."

"I'm glad you have her."

"I'm glad I have you."

"It's different this time," he confesses. "My deployment."

"How so?" I have a thousand ideas running through my mind about what he might say. That it's more dangerous, hotter, more work, just to name a few.

"Because I know I have you, my wife, waiting at home for me. We always do our best to take the most safety precautions we can. However, now, it's even more important. Outside of my immediate family, I've never had anyone at home waiting for me."

"You have me. I'm your family now." I want to be his home, because he is mine. It's no longer a place, it's Chad.

"I know you are, baby. That's what makes this different. I've never resented my job, not a single day since I signed up. Not until I had to walk away from you and step on that bus, not even twenty-four hours after you became my wife."

"I wish you were here."

"I am there. Maybe not physically, but I'm with you, Faith. Always." He sighs heavily, and I know that means our time is over. "I need to go. I just wanted to hear about your day and hear your voice."

"You made my day better than I could have imagined." It's true. This day was already perfect, but him calling made it exceptional.

"I'll call soon."

"Be safe."

"I love you." Those three words mean something altogether different to me than they do him, but I repeat them anyway.

"I love you too."

The line goes dead, and it feels as though my heart is splintering in two. I love talking to him, to get to hear his voice, but when he has to go, it's just like he's stepping onto that bus all over again.

"I'm stuffed." I push my plate away from me. It's Friday night, and Hannah and I are having dinner.

"Me too," Hannah says, doing the same. "We'll get two boxes and split the leftovers. Cold pizza for breakfast is life." She laughs and takes another sip of her wine.

"The food was great, but it's even better that this place is within walking distance for both of us, and this"—I hold up my glass of wine—"this is just what we needed."

Hannah clicks her glass against mine. "Yeah, but you know what I miss?"

"Erik?" I state the obvious.

"Yeah, Erik and sex."

My mind instantly goes to my wedding night. "Yep," I agree. If I were to close my eyes right now, I could picture him moving above me. His gaze never leaving mine as he thrusts inside me. I squirm in my seat, pressing my thighs together. Is it cliché to say that my wedding night was hands down the best sex of my life?

"I send him pictures," she confesses.

"What?" My mouth falls open. "Like sexy pictures?" I whisper, not wanting the families that are eating a few booths over to hear our conversation.

She nods. "He sends them back."

I'm not sure what to say. Partly because all I keep thinking about is sending a couple to Chad and what his reaction might be. "The service is spotty." It's a lame reply, but I'm still processing. I would never have considered it, but now it's all that I can think about.

"It is, but when he gets service, it's a nice surprise. We gotta do what we gotta do while our husbands are gone. You should consider it."

I'm nodding. "I should try it."

Her grin is wicked. "Do it. He's going to be shocked, but he's going to love it."

"You think?"

"Faith, they're in the middle of the desert. They have nothing but sand and heat. Of course he's going to love getting images of his wife in a—" She looks around us and then turns her eyes back to me. "—compromising position."

"Okay."

She grins and slides out of the booth. "It's on me tonight. You, my friend, need to go home and have a photoshoot."

"Do you dress up?" I ask, placing the tip on the table, and following her to the register. I'm out of my depth here. I have no idea where I would even start, but the idea, it's taking root and I want to try. I want to do that for him.

"Sometimes, but he doesn't care either way. It's me, and when he's missing me, that's all that matters."

I wonder if Chad is missing me like that. Either way, I've made up my mind. I'm doing this. I want to be his wife in every way when he's deployed and when he's home. This is a part of that. I want to take care of him while he's gone.

Hannah hugs me on the sidewalk in front of our house. She and Erik live just a few more houses down. "Let me know how it goes." My face flushes beneath the streetlights and she laughs. "I don't need details, and I'm certain he'll love it, but you can give me confirmation."

Instead of answering her, I pull her into another hug. "Thank you for dinner. Next week it's on me."

"Sounds like a plan. Have a good night." She winks.

"You too." I laugh, because it's weird that she knows what I'm about to do. Unlocking the front door, I turn on the small lamp in the entryway. Making sure the door is locked, I toss my keys and purse on the small kitchen island, and with my phone clutched in my hand, I move toward the bedroom.

I don't own sexy lingerie. Something I'll remedy if this goes over well. So tonight, he's just getting me. Quickly, I strip out of my clothes and wash my face. I'm just me. I know he likes this. He told me so in one of his letters. Easing back on the bed, I hold the phone above my head and take a few shots. I scroll through them, and they're okay, I guess. I'm not really sure what I'm going for because I've never done this.

I settle on one that shows my face. I'm staring at the camera, and my eyes are hooded. My bare breasts are on display, my hard nipples making themselves known. Before I can change my mind, I pull up our message thread.

Me: Missing you.

I attach the image and hit Send.

Tossing my phone onto the mattress, I stare up at the shadows on the ceiling. I never in a million years would have thought that sending a sexy picture would turn me on so much. I think it's more of the fact that he's going to see it. I wish I were there so I could see his face.

Cupping my breasts, I tug at my nipples, causing a moan to fill the silence of the room. Closing my eyes, I picture our wedding night. I pretend like it's his hands roaming over my body. My hand finds its way to my aching clit.

I need the release.

I'm wet just from the thought of my husband. I wonder if he'd want to see that. See what he does to me, living thousands of miles away.

Without allowing myself to overthink what I'm doing, I spread my legs, reach for my phone and snap a picture. I'm not sure if it will come out, but when I glance at the screen, my breath hitches. The evidence of my arousal is obvious, even with the darkness of the image.

I dip my fingers inside, and my back arches off the bed. It's not going to take long. I imagine that it's my husband's expert yet calloused hands bringing me pleasure, and I detonate like a rocket. I'm panting, trying to catch my breath, and when I do, I snap another picture. I don't think as I type out another message.

Me: This is all for you.

I send the before and after picture of my arousal. It's the most daring thing I've ever done, but it feels right sending them to Chad. To my husband. I know he would never share those images. Even when he's not here, he's my protector. I feel that with everything that I am.

Rolling out of bed, I move to the bathroom and get cleaned up before plugging my phone in to charge and sliding beneath the sheets. I'm smiling as I drift off, thinking of my husband's reaction when he gets his messages. I also wonder if he'll send me an image back. I hope it doesn't take another two weeks. Regardless, they'll be there for him when he gets service.

He'll know I was thinking about him.

I'm always thinking about him.