Break Away (28 page)

“Here you are,” I echoed. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve it.”

“You wanna know what we decided to name him?”

“It’s a boy?”

“Yup,” he replied with a nod. “Austin Porter Scott.”

“What?” My throat tightened, and I looked at him, “Why?”

“You saved my life, Porter. You saved all our asses out there. More than once. I can only hope my son turns out half as brave as you.”

“I’m not brave,” I mumbled, focusing on a spot on the floor. “I’m a fucking mess, man. Sometimes I feel like a part of me is still over there. I wake up from a nightmare, and all I want to do is throw on my gear and go hurt someone. I’m constantly looking around for threats, like any minute an enemy combatant is gonna sneak up behind me and take me out. I can’t get my shit together and my head… God, my head is so fucked up. I don’t think I’m ever gonna get past it.”

“Yes, you will,” he told me. “I’ve been where you are, and it sucks. The nightmares, the guilt, the paranoia… it’s enough to fuck anyone’s head up. You can’t live through what we lived through, see what we saw, and expect anything to be normal after. That shit wasn’t normal, and we’re all probably going to carry it with us for the rest of our lives. We all left a part of us over there.”

“Not me, I didn’t just leave a part of myself… I left my best fucking friend over there to die. I failed and I don’t deserve to move on.”

“How did you fail?” he questioned me. “By running out into the smoke even though you couldn’t hear shit, and your brain had just gotten rattled to shit inside your skull? By dragging half our goddamn unit to safety so we could return to our families? That doesn’t sound like failure to me, Dex.”

“I failed Teddy!” I screamed, no longer able to keep it inside. “He was dying, he called out for me, and I couldn’t fucking find him! I couldn’t save him!”

“No one could’ve saved him!” Chase yelled, standing from his seat and staring me down. “He never called your name, Dex. I know you thought you heard him, but you didn’t. His injuries were too extreme, and there’s nothing that you or anyone else could have done to save him. You’ve got to understand that.”

I dragged my hands over my face in frustration. “I understand what you’re trying to say, I do. My logic tells me one thing, but I just… can’t feel that way.”

“It’s all part of the PTSD. It’s like all your wires get crossed, and even though you want to feel one way, you just can’t. It gets better, though.”

“How?” I asked. “How do I get better?”

“You talk about it. Talk, talk, and talk until the mess in your head starts to unravel. We internalize all this shit, and it eats us alive. They have counseling and therapy and all that shit to help us sort it out and give us the tools we need to move on.”

“It doesn’t feel fair, somehow. Why should I get to live a happy, normal life when Teddy can’t?”

“You really think Teddy wants you to punish yourself for the rest of your life? Just because his life had to end doesn’t mean yours does, too. He wouldn’t want that for you.” A small smile formed on his lips. “That kid would have your ass if he knew you weren’t out there living life to the fullest.”

He was right about that. “Are you happy?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m happy. I’m not sure I’ll ever truly get past it, and I’ll probably struggle with it for the rest of my life, but I’ve learned to deal with it and move forward. I keep up with the therapy, I’ve got a good woman who’s always there for me, and every day is a little bit easier than the last.” He looked at me with a sideways glance, “You got a good girl, Porter?”

I was quiet for a moment before a smile tilted my lips and I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“You’ll work it out, I know you will. If anyone can get through this, it’s you.”

I spent the rest of the day there and got to meet his very-pregnant wife, Lila, who invited me to stay for dinner. We kept the conversation light, catching up and exchanging embarrassing stories about each other while Lila laughed so hard I thought the baby was going to pop out right there in the dining room.

Before I left, Chase handed me a card for the veteran support program that had referred him to his therapist, who specialized in Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and told me that they could refer me to someone as well.

“Thank you… for everything,” I said as I took the card.

“No thanks necessary. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t,” I said. “I want to meet that little boy of yours when he gets here.”

“You better. Stay safe, brother. Semper fi.”

“Semper fi.”

***

“Have you decided what you’re going to do about Rose?” Dex asked.

It had been a little over a week since the “grandmother” incident, and I’d been avoiding the topic. I knew that Dex thought I should go see her, but aside from a few hints here and there, he had left it alone. Until now.

“Not yet.” I really hoped that he would drop it, but the look on his face said otherwise.

“I know it’s a lot to think about, Liv… but aren’t you curious? She might be able to answer some of the questions you have and fill in the gaps from your childhood.”

“Of course, I’m curious,” I snapped. My tone came out harsher than I intended but I couldn’t help it. “But it’s not like she’s filling me in on last week’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy… we’re talking about my
life
here! It’s a big deal.”

“I know it is,” he acknowledged. “I’m not trying to push you, I just… I’m worried that you’ll regret it if you don’t. She’s not going to be around forever and I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life wondering.”

Since when did everyone else think they knew what was best for me?

“This coming from a guy who has an unopened letter from his best friend’s parents that’s been sitting on his coffee table for months now. Why don’t you take your own advice, Dex?” I blurted it out without thinking and immediately regretted it when I saw the pain flash across his face. He was trying to help me and I was getting defensive. I was frustrated and confused, and I was taking it out on him.

Dex quietly walked out of the room, and I felt like the worst person on the planet. I was about to jump up and go after him when he came back in.

“I’m sorry, Dex. I’m being such a bitch. I didn’t mean that, I know it’s not the same thing. I’m confused, and I’m taking it out on you when you’re only trying to help. I’m so, so sorry.”

“No, you’re right.” He sat down on the couch next to me, gripping the letter in his hand. “I’ve been avoiding this letter because I’m afraid of what’s inside, but it’s time to face it. Good or bad, we can’t hide from the past forever. It has a way of catching up with us whether we like it or not.”

He was far more understanding than I deserved.

“So I was thinking,” he continued. “What if we did it together? You can sit with me while I open this letter, and then we’ll go over to your grandmother’s house. Let’s just rip off the band-aids and get it over with.”

“You would really do that for me?” I asked.

“I would do anything for you.”

Looking into his eyes, I was totally overcome by the amazing, kind, wonderful man in front of me. The fact that, for me, he was willing to open himself up to the pain that would come with reading that letter… it blew me away. In that moment, I finally admitted something to myself that I’d probably known for quite a while but had been too scared to acknowledge. I was totally and completely in love with Dex.

Of course, it was one thing to admit it to myself and entirely another to actually say it out loud. Dex had said it once on the night he admitted his feelings for me, but he hadn’t said it since then. I knew how he felt about me—he had proved that to me—but I couldn’t risk putting it out there if we weren’t ready.

Still, that realization made me realize something else – that I couldn’t let him rush into opening that letter. He needed to do it on his own time, when he was ready. As sweet as it was that he was willing to do it for me, I loved him too much to let him.

“Actually, Dex… if it’s okay with you, could we rip my band-aid off first?” I said. “I’m afraid I’ll chicken out if I wait too long.”

“Sure thing, babe. Whatever you want.”

His relief was obvious, and I knew I made the right decision. I had no doubt that he would find the courage to do it soon, but I couldn’t let him do it for me. He needed to do it for himself.

The old station wagon was sitting in the driveway when we pulled up to the house, so I knew Rose was home. It was hard to believe that I’d ever lived here as a kid. All the places that my mom and I lived were tiny, cramped apartments in busy neighborhoods, but this place was completely different. It had a huge yard to run around in, trees to climb, and there was only one other house close by. It sat on the edge of the river, and there was a small dock that led to a little raft. There were rocking chairs on the front porch and a carefully tended garden bursting with colorful flowers. It was the kind of place that every child dreams of growing up in. I only wished I could have remembered my time here.

“Do you want me to come in with you or stay out here?” Dex asked, helping me out of the truck.

I looked at him nervously. “Could you come in with me?”

“Of course I will.” He took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We’re in this together, remember?”

I nodded and took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

We climbed up the brick steps, and I hesitantly knocked on the big wooden door. When there was no answer, I knocked again, this time a little louder.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your horses!” called a voice from inside.

Rose opened the door, a smile appearing on her face when she saw me. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to come by and see me.” After a few seconds of awkward silence, she took a step to the side, ushering us in the house. “Well, come on in, honey.”

All of a sudden, I had no idea what to say or do. Thankfully, Dex held his hand out to her. “Hi, ma’am. I’m Olivia’s boyfriend, Dex Porter.”

“Rose Evans,” she smiled, shaking his outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Dex.”

“Sorry, I’m a little nervous,” I admitted shakily.

“That’s perfectly all right. I’m a little nervous myself,” said Rose. “I’m just glad you came. Why don’t you have a seat in the living room, and I’ll go fetch us some lemonade?”

She led is into a cozy room with a couch and two chairs situated in front of a stone fireplace. There were French doors that opened up to the porch, letting in a cool breeze from outside. As I looked around, I was flooded with hazy memories and glimpses into a childhood that I didn’t recognize.

There was a cluster of framed photos displayed on a bookshelf, and when I stepped forward to take a closer look, my eyes fell on one in the center. In a round, antique silver frame was a picture of Rose and me. I was probably about three years old, so it must have been taken right around the time we left. We wore matching smiles and my little arms were wrapped tightly around her like I was holding on for dear life. It was easy to see how much those two people loved each other.

“You were a cute kid,” Dex said.

“How do I not remember?”

Rose came up behind us, “It was a long time ago, Olive. You were so young when your mama left. Let’s sit down so we can talk.” She handed us our glasses of lemonade and sat down in one of the chairs.