No More Mrs. Forgotten novel Chapter 22

Sharon saw Emeline standing at the altar, glaring at her with such bitter resentment it made her blood run cold.

Suddenly, the scene dissolved into a blazing war zone.

Caleb stood before her, casually shaking a cigarette from its pack. "Sharon likes heroes, right?"

She shook her head frantically.

But Caleb acted as if he didn't notice. Flashing her a bright, fearless smile, he clamped the cigarette between his lips. "Since Sharon likes them, I'll go be one for her."

With that, he slung his jacket over his shoulder and marched directly into the crossfire.

The blinding explosions bathed his crisp military uniform in a terrifying crimson glow.

Tears erupted from Sharon's eyes, her throat tight with raw agony. She forced her mouth open, screaming, "No! I don't! Come... come back!"

But Caleb kept walking without looking back. Suddenly, a deafening explosion ripped through the air.

Sharon bolted awake with a gasp, the scream tearing from her throat. "No! Caleb, come back!"

"Come back!" Only seconds later, after screaming it into the empty room, did she realize... it was just a dream.

Sharon sat frozen, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

The visceral, hyper-realistic emotions from the nightmare left her paralyzed, unable to shake the lingering dread.

It had just been a careless, offhand remark.

Everyone liked heroes, but...

Drenched in cold sweat, Sharon panted softly, her tears spilling over.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence. "Dreamt of Caleb?"

Sharon gasped, startled, her eyes darting around the dark room in a panic to find the source.

Then it hit her. It was... the phone call from last night. She had never hung up.

That voice...

Josiah?

Sharon grabbed her phone and put it on speaker, her heart still racing. "You... haven't slept?"

Josiah's eyes were bloodshot on his end. "No. Your shouting woke me up. What did you dream about?"

Her throat tightened. Unwilling to go into it, she murmured, "Nothing."

"Alright," Josiah said softly. "It was just a dream, don't overthink it. Life and death are out of our hands. The dead can't come back, Sharon. Don't let the grief consume you. It'll destroy your health."

Just as she was about to end the call, Sharon suddenly said, "Josiah..."

Josiah brought the phone back to his ear. "What is it?"

Sharon opened her mouth, her eyes red, wanting to confess everything, but ultimately swallowed it down. "Nothing."

"Something on your mind?" Josiah pressed.

Sharon shook her head with a bitter smile. "No. I'm hanging up."

*

Sharon freshened up and headed downstairs.

The chaotic mess from the night before had been scrubbed entirely clean.

The unbroken bottles she had failed to smash from the top shelves were now neatly lined up in the center of the wine rack.

But with the top and bottom sections completely bare, the display looked ridiculously pathetic.

It looked like a balding middle-aged man desperately trying a comb-over.

Or... exactly like her own desperate, hollow marriage.