A Ghost Encounter: My Time with Simon "Ghost" Riley

Part Eighty-Eight: One Month, Two Months, Three Months

"I do." He points to the chair in front of his desk and I sit down. "You've been doing exceptionally well."

Pride fills my tone as I say, "I've been trying."

And I'm not just talking about training or my duties—I'm talking about trying to be better, for myself, for Simon, and for my team.

"I know," he says sincerely, hinting that he's seen my efforts in every area of my life. "And in our conversations, I've faith that you've learned your lesson."

"Yes, sir. I have," I say earnestly, and with confidence.

"One more month, then." He pauses with a smile. "One more month of administrative leave and then we can talk about the next steps."

"Thank you, Captain," I say with the utmost sincerity.

— Month Two —

My probation period has officially been lifted. Captain Price made it official yesterday. Price said we'd celebrate today—with Gaz, too—but only after training, of course.

"This...is...exhausting!" I pant out as I'm bent over myself, trying to still my breathing after the drill Price put us through.

"Good." Price is also struggling with his panting. "It's...supposed to be."

We both grab our water and take a seat on the hill we are standing on.

"Any more updates?" I sketch a brow.

Price gives me a warning look that says, Don't pry too much you know I can't tell you everything, and then actually says, "Things picked up and are going smoothly."

The way Price said that was sort of odd and his throat bobbed.

I squint my eyes at him, saying playfully, "Is there something you're purposely not telling me?"

He doesn't laugh.

"Captain?" I ask with worry now, my brows furrowed.

"Nothing too concerning. If I can, I'll tell you when it's time." He smiles too somberly.

A nod is my only response.

We finish up our training and meet Gaz at a nearby bar for drinks.

— Month Three —

Three months have now passed since Ghost left for his mission. Three months with no contact: no talking, no laughing, no...touching.

It's been brutal, to say the least. But I've been keeping busy with my usual rounds. Price actually mentioned something about a potential mission for me to join. I think I'll ask him more about it today.

Walking through the halls of the base, I ponder about Simon: how is he? Is he alright? What is he doing on the mission?

I find myself once again—as I've been doing so often in the past months—knocking on Price's office door.

No response.

I try the handle and it's locked. He must be somewhere else. I peek my head around the doors of potential rooms or areas he could be in but he's nowhere to be found.

Since it's the weekend, I have free time, but the base has been empty with everyone gone; and lonely. With this being said, I make my walk back to my quarters.

I'll look for Price later.

But as I approach the door to my quarters I find Price knocking on my door. He turns his head to face me but I'm taken aback by the look on his face: a look of heartbreak as tears fall from his eyes.

"Captain," I say his name tenderly, concern growing within me, and walk up to place my hand softly on his arm. "What's the matter?"

Still looking at me with absolute despair he says, "It's...it's Simon." Price's voice breaks and his throat bobs as he chokes on his tears.

The color must have drained from my face because Price's entire demeanor shifts.

It's Simon.

I can't handle it. I won't be able to. I can't hear it. I won't hear it.

In a swift and ragged movement, I stumble back a bit.

"Breanna," Price says, his tone laced with concern, and walks towards me. He grips both of my arms with his hands to hold me steady, his face only mere inches from mine now.

"What about Simon?" I nearly squeal as I begin choking on my tears that I can't stop from coming. I repeat myself, wide-eyed with pure fear, "What. About. Simon."

Price gulps.