Page 39 of Caught By the Chief of Staff

“You’re going to hang up the phone and go pay for your groceries,” the voice says, and I look over my shoulder, wondering who it is I’m talking to. They laugh again. “Don’t bother; you’ll never find me.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“That’s not for you to know.”

“What am I to know?”

“Nothing other than what I’m telling you to do right now,” the voice says. “Buy your items, go home, pack your bags, and after you tell your husband goodbye when he calls, you leave and never look back.”

“He will never believe me.”

“Then I guess you better make it believable. Or else you won’t like the consequences.”

And then he hangs up.

I look down at my phone and flip through the pictures of Rick, and in my heart of hearts, I know this is the last look of him I will ever have. I place my free hand over my still flat belly. I don’t know how I’m going to make this right for us, but I will. We’re going to be all right. Because we have to be.

And then I do what I was told. Only I don’t select another quart of milk, because I won’t be home to drink it. I take my purchases to the counter and put them on the conveyor belt. The cashier takes one look at my baby socks and blanket and my copy ofWhat to Expect When You’re Expectingand guesses right away.

“You’re having a baby,” she says with a sweet smile.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“What a blessing. Congrats to you and your husband.”

If only today had gone the way it started out, with so much joy and promise, but now it’s nothing but survival and heartache with some terror thrown in for fun.

“Thanks,” I reply. I pay for my purchases and head for my car.

I pull out of the parking lot on autopilot. I head to the apartment and let myself in. I don’t take my purchases out of the car; I don’t need to. Instead, I pull out the duffle bag from the closet and fill it with a handful of clothes. I don’t even care what I grab, just enough to get by. Nothing has meaning anymore.

And then I sit on the sofa in the late-afternoon sunlight and wait. I don’t turn on the television or any lights; I just sit there and wait until the sun starts to set and Rick calls.

“Hi,” I say when the Skype call comes through.

“Hey, baby.” He smiles that panty-melting smile I love so much. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” my voice cracks.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, and his voice is so full of concern that I can’t take it.

“Nothing,” I start and then I shake my head. “Everything. I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” Rick breathes. “I don’t understand.”

“Then I guess you better make it believable,” I hear the robotic words over and over in my head. I have to make Rick think this is believable, even as I break my own heart right along with his.

“I can’t do this anymore, Rick.” Hot tears burn down my cheeks.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to be a Navy wife anymore. I don’t want to be married.”

“What?” he asks, and shock is written across his face.

“I’m not cut out for this,” I tell him. “I don’t know if I was ever meant to have a family of my own. Maybe I was always meant to be alone.”

“You don’t mean that,” Rick says. “Baby, just hear me out. We’ll get through this together.”