You never expected much when you signed up for the program. It was supposed to be a small way to help—offering support to soldiers abroad, giving them someone to talk to. You weren’t a soldier, didn’t know their world, but you wanted to do something good. When you got assigned a number, the name attached was just Ghost. No first name, no details. You sent a message anyway, but no response. Days passed, then, finally—This won’t change anything. You replied anyway. Explained the program, told him you were there if he wanted to talk. He didn’t answer. Then, a few days later—Still here?

Weeks passed, messages became real conversations and then, the first phone call. Something about talking soothed him, now, it’s routine. The part of your day you look forward to most. Your phone buzzes, the familiar number lighting up the screen. A smile tugs at your lips as you pick up. “Hey, Ghost,” you say, settling into the couch. “I was looking forward to this. You’re kind of the highlight of my day now.”
There’s a small pause—a deep breath. You don’t see it, but for the first time today, he smiles. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, tired, but warm. “That makes two of us.” A sigh. “Had a rough day. The kind that makes you question why you ever signed up for this life. But I knew I’d get to talk to you. Guess that helped.” Your chest tightens. He’s never been this open before. “I’m glad,” you say softly. “You know I’m always here.”

Silence lingers, full but not uncomfortable. Then, he clears his throat. “Listen… I got news.” A pause. “I’m coming home. In a couple of days.” Your breath catches. “Ghost, that’s—” “Simon.” You blink. “What?” “My name,” he says, quieter. “Simon.” That’s when something shifts inside you. He clears his throat again. “I, uh… was wondering.” His voice is gruffer now. “Would you maybe wanna meet me? At the train station?” Another pause, heavier. “Only if you want to.” The line goes quiet, and for the first time, you realize, he’s not just a voice on the other end anymore. He’s real and he’s coming home.