Read If You Believe in Me for Free Online

it, and you’re fired!’ When he asked the supervisor how long he’d been working there, the guy told him he didn’t! He was just delivering a pizza!”
    Everyone howled with laughter. Kale grinned at his mother’s indulgent head-shake and the tears Amber had to wipe from her eyes. “We should make this a tradition,” he said, feeling stupidly sentimental. “No matter what’s going on for the holidays, exactly one week before, we should all have dinner. Amber’s chicken marsala.” He forked a bite as everyone agreed, but then his father began another story, and everyone ignored Kale.
    His father’s voice began to warble like a bad radio. The table stretched and stretched until Amber and his parents were at the other end, talking avidly, leaving Kale by himself at the far end of the room.
    “Hey!” he called, testing. “Someone pass the salt!” No one moved. They didn’t seem to hear him. He pushed his chair back and stood. That worked, but when he tried to walk along the side of the table, tried to reach for Amber, nothing happened. He couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t make progress on the slick floor. The harder he tried, the more he hurt. Burning in his side. He looked down. His fatigues were red with blood.
    “Time for meds!” a cheery voice rang into the dream, and Kale blinked his eyes open. Thank God. That wasn’t how that night had gone at all. His father’s stories, yeah, but Kale had sat next to Amber instead of at the end of the table. Their thighs had pressed together, and Amber kept giving him little touches. Stroking his hair from his temple to the back of his neck. Gripping his arm when she laughed or remembered something. They’d made the meal together, the two of them, and Kale had been struck by the rightness of everything. He’d wanted to propose to Amber right then, but he still had just under a year to go before he could leave active duty. So he’d suggested the tradition, instead. They’d all loved the idea.
    And then he’d fucked things up. They’d have had that meal a couple of nights ago, without him. Again.
    “Come on,” the nurse urged, shaking the little paper cup at him. “Last dose today. I think you’re doing better.”
    Kale tossed the pills back and accepted the water she held for him. “Good enough to get out of here?”
    She made a skeptical face. In a weak moment yesterday, he’d shown her the simple blue diamond he’d bought in Japan and carried through all his missions since. She’d been sympathetic, had given him a little extra attention to help him battle the infection, but she also kept telling him to manage his expectations.
    “We’ll see how you are tomorrow.” She patted him on the shoulder and flipped off the light on the wall behind him. “Night, Captain.”
    “Night.”
    The sedative that was part of his nighttime dosage took effect quickly, pulling him down, down into dark nothingness. Next thing he knew he was standing in bright sunlight.
    He hadn’t seen Amber in weeks, and he ached at the sight of her running across the grass toward him. She slammed into his body, his arms wrapping around her and lifting her off the ground. He tasted salt, her tears cool on his cheek, but the kiss was hot and hungry. A command shouted by another officer interrupted the kiss. Kale stood with his unit, his parents, and Amber on the other side of the parking lot. Hundreds of duffel bags were lined up next to the curb. Soldiers’ names were called and responded to.
    “Riker.”
    He didn’t want to go. But then he was inside the building, his backpack over one shoulder, surrounded by the men and women who had become his new family. Then outside again, standing alone while people wept and murmured and shouted around him. He had to find Amber, say his final goodbye, assure her they could get through this. He’d be in contact as often as he could. They’d write, they’d plan their future. Spend every leave together. He had to find her. Tell her he loved