“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t know where that came from.”
“Hey,” Joe said trying to get her to raise her down-turned face. When she didn’t respond he said firmly, “Katie, look at me.”
Almost reluctantly, Katie raised her face. Her expression was one of such sadness that Joe wished he could kiss away her unhappiness.
“Don’t ever be sorry for being upset,” he continued gently. “Are you going to tell me what the storm was about?” As if I didn’t know, he added silently to himself.
Glancing away from him then back again, fresh tears glimmered in her eyes, and at first, he thought that she was going to refuse to answer him then she swallowed and said in a small voice, “I miss you and I miss…Josie.”
Speaking the name of their daughter caused her voice to tremble and she coughed and continued, “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here anymore, or where I’m going and…and…” Her voice trailed off into silence.
Joe watched as a tear trickled down her cheek and the way her bottom lip trembled slightly brought a clear picture of Josie to mind as she did the exact same thing when she was about to cry her heart out.
He realized that if he and Katie did not sort out their marriage, if he did not sit down, talk to her and give her the explanations that she was entitled to then it might just as well be over between them.
He wished that things had been different. If they were both back in the US, there might have been a chance for them to talk and heal their marriage but what he had to tell her was going to be the final straw.
He’d had no choice in the matter. The decision had come from higher up the USMC chain of command and he felt at that moment that he should never have married her. Katie deserved better, far more than he could give her out here in Afghanistan. She needed to go home, get back to their daughter, and let him do his job without his mind constantly on her and their problematic marriage.
Joe cleared his throat, well aware that the next few minutes were going to be the worst ones of his life.
“Katie,” he said gently but with determination.
Katie glanced up at him, her eyes luminous in the dim light, her cheeks still wet with tears, a questioning look on her pretty face.
“We need to talk,” he continued, his eyes studying her and wishing that he could just grab her hand and run away from their situation.
Katie tilted her head back slightly. “All right,” she agreed softly.
Joe hesitated then said huskily, “The squad is going to be pulling out of Base Independence. We’re going to be relocating to Forward Operating Base Nowazad. There’s been an increase in insurgent activity in a very large compound in the local area and Command think that something big is brewing. The British army will be joining us, then we’ll be mounting a search and destroy mission against any terries that are in the area.”
“I see,” Katie said, “When will we be leaving?”
Joe glanced over her head, a lump of emotion threatening to choke him.
“I’m going to ask for your transfer out of the squad so you can go home.”
Katie stared at him then stepped back, Joe’s arms dropping away from her waist to his sides.
“What?” she asked.
Joe saw the look of shock and disbelief on her face and let her go, knowing that to keep her in his arms was tantamount to cruelty.
“The mission is going to be dangerous,” he continued. “You’re my wife, Katie, and I love you. I want you out of harm’s way.”
Katie stood in silence, still staring at him.
“You and I have had some…issues lately, and I’ve got to focus on this mission, get my men through it in one piece. I can’t lose my concentration again, be distracted by personal problems and our confrontations. My squad leader has heard scuttlebutt that I haven’t been doing my job properly. If I don’t get my shit together, I’ll be shit-canned. I love you, Katie, but I don’t know if it’s enough to get things sorted out between us. We can’t focus on our jobs if we’re always fighting and I can’t afford to get any more of my men killed because of it.” Joe lapsed into silence feeling the world’s worst bastard.
He knew what he had done to her but there was nothing he could do to take back the words he had just uttered. To alienate her was to save her life and if he had achieved it by being cruel, then he would have to live with it. Watching her, he knew how much he loved her but there was nothing that he could say.
Katie felt each one of his words pierce her like a hot nail and her world crumbled around her. She couldn’t believe that Joe—the man who she had thought loved her more than anything—was requesting that she leave, was saying that his love for her wasn’t enough and that he thought more of his career than he did of her. For him to say that he needed her to be out of his hair so he could concentrate on a mission was tantamount to telling her that he didn’t want her around because she was a nuisance.
Trying to quell the devastating hurt that she felt, she stood staring at him while the tension and silence stretched out between them. She was relieved to feel a hot anger surge up and override the pain that was coiling like a live wire in her stomach.
“You bastard!” she exclaimed, an icy venom in her voice.
“Katie…” Joe began.
Katie stepped back, holding up her hands in a warding off gesture.
“Don’t Katie me,” she snapped. “No more. This is the third time you’ve done this to me, Joe, so no fucking more. First you go missing—all right, through no fault of your own—then you fuck off in the middle of the night for your own personal, important reasons and now this.”
She paused, breathing rapidly, tears filling her eyes.
“Let me get this straight if I may,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “You want me out of your hair because you consider me—our marriage—a nuisance. It’s too inconvenient for you. You need to get yourself and your men through this mission and you’d be only too happy to have me out of the way.” Her voice was rising with fury, and she clenched her fists, trying to regain control of her temper.
She moved farther away from him. She didn’t know what to do. The hurt was so real and overwhelming that she wanted to run and never stop. Shaking her head and willing the tears to stay away, she said coldly, “You know what? I understand totally. One thing that might put a spoke in your mighty wheel, though, is that you try to get me transferred and I’ll pay a visit to your CO. I’ll spill the beans, Joe, about your—how shall I put it—problems. Then I’ll have you transferred with me. If I go, you go.”
She watched Joe straighten up, tension evident in his body and she heard the anger in his voice as he said, “Try it, Katie, and you’ll find that you’ve made yourself an enemy, even though I am your husband. Don’t ever threaten me.”
“Then from now on, leave me alone,” Katie spat angrily, the grief nearly choking her. “I will be going with you when the squad moves out. You have my word on that.”
When Joe responded, his voice was icy and abrupt, “Okay, have it your own way.”
Knowing that it was over and there was nothing left to say, Katie took another step back from him, feeling that the farther she moved away from him, the more distant her marriage became. She clung onto her control by a thread.
“Best of luck, Joe,” she whispered, the threatening tears almost strangling the words. “Congratulations. I’m no longer your responsibility.” And with that last heartfelt remark, she turned and began to walk quickly away from him.
Before she reached the end of the wall, she was running—heart pounding—tears streaming down her face—the pain of loss almost unbearable.
She ran until she felt sick, oblivious to the camp personnel around her—of the strange looks she received—intent only on getting back to her accommodation. She knew that even there, she would have no place to hide to lick her wounds and that the women in her tent were bound to notice that there was something wrong. She had to grit her teeth—face the situation head
on—and draw on all her courage and reserves of strength to deal with the situation the best way she knew how. It was going to be the hardest thing that she had ever had to do and seeing Joe and being near him in the future was going to be torture but she would do it. She had to.
Panting heavily, a stitch in her side, she reached her tent and stopped outside. She wiped her wet face, smoothed back her short hair and straightened her shoulders. She had never felt less like being among people than at that moment.
She was just about to enter the tent when a voice said behind her, “Corporal Anderson?”
Spinning around she saw a marine who she vaguely recognized as a member of Joe’s squad standing behind her. He silently handed her a sheet of paper, gave her a half salute, about turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Standing where he had left her and staring down at the piece of paper, Katie gritted her teeth, wondering what it was all about. She eventually sighed then went into the tent. Avoiding the stares of the other women, she went to her bed and, sitting down, opened to read the print on the paper. It was a copy of a brief email with a WARNO attached to it regarding the upcoming move to the FOB and stating that there was a briefing at 0900 hours the next morning at the USMC HQ.
Katie let the hand holding the note fall onto her lap. Bowing her head, she wondered if there had ever been anyone who felt as bad as she did right at that moment. She was empty inside, as though Joe was dead and gone forever. In a way, she was glad she felt nothing. It would make it that much easier to see him tomorrow at the briefing, that much easier to treat him like a stranger.
Letting the sheet of paper float down onto her sleeping bag, she stood up, tiredly collected her usual shower kit and slowly made her way through the other women, forcing herself to answer greetings and smiles as she headed for the shower tents.
Having hung the obligatory notice on the outside of the shower, she went in, undressed and turned on the water. She stood under the hot spray, letting the soothing warmth pound the top of her head, eyes closed.
She allowed the memories to come—images of her and Joe when they had first met, of the first time they had made love, their wedding day and their daughter. She put a trembling hand on her lower abdomen. There was no obvious sign as yet that she was pregnant—stomach still flat, her body still slim.
She would never tell him now about their unborn child. Again, she would give birth on her own, as she had with Josie. Joe might just as well be dead.
Suddenly Katie was crying—quietly at first—then, as the emptiness inside began to disperse, she sobbed as though her heart would break, bending double in the shower, hands covering her face, body shaking as though she were freezing cold, although the icy feeling was deep in her heart. She felt lost and alone. Joe had carved out a dark space in her heart that would never heal and she had no idea how she was going to carry on without him.
She cried so violently that she grew dizzy and sick and had to prop herself against the canvas sides of the shower to prevent herself from falling, gagging and choking on emotion that was like a physical lump in her throat. That was when she knew that if she didn’t calm herself, her hysteria could possibly result in a miscarriage, and the loss of another life would be the end of her.
Raising her face to the water pouring from the showerhead, she let the fluid play onto her hot face, washing away the tears. Gaining some control over her emotions, she quickly washed herself, concentrating on showering then drying once she had finished.
Dressing in her nightwear, she collected her toiletries and went back to her bed space. After folding her uniform and stowing her toiletries in her bedside locker, she sat down on her bed feeling apathetic and lonely. The tent was dim with many of the women asleep or busy with other things. She wished that she had someone to talk to but then thought nobody would want to hear about her heartbreak.
She lay down on her bed, dragging the sleeping bag up over her. Closing her eyes, she tried to sleep but her mind instantly darted back to the incident at the PX and to her confrontation with Joe. She remembered every word spoken between them and her heart ached. The tears welled up in her eyes again, only this time she was determined not to give in to them. No matter how much she hurt, the time for crying was over.
She needed to get through the rest of her deployment, look after the little one inside her and get home in one piece. What would happen then she had no idea. She felt as though she were in limbo, not knowing which direction she needed to go. She should take one day at a time, drawing on every ounce of courage she possessed and hoping and praying that she would be able to get through the rest of her deployment with her sanity intact.
Katie tried to relax, concentrating on each part of her body, but her mind wouldn’t focus. She needed to freeze her feelings, quench every single emotion she had in relation to Joe—her love for him and their disastrous marriage. She had an unborn life inside her and she needed to protect it and herself. To do this she had to focus on her role and the upcoming mission, which, if Joe’s words were anything to go by, was going to be extremely hazardous.
Clenching her fists, she put them over her eyes, trying to blot out the images of her husband, but the pictures refused to go away. She felt a tear trickle from the corner of her eye and a small, silent sob escaped her.
No…I will not cry.
She bit down on her lip hard, the pain distracting her from the tears that she wanted to shed. She tried to relax, to sleep, and eventually she dozed, jolting awake a few moments later then dozing on and off throughout the dark hours of the night.
Chapter Sixteen
Katie jerked awake at the first muted ring of her watch alarm. She had finally drifted off into a deep sleep at around 0400 hours that morning and the two hours that she had rested had just made her feel worse. Her body ached, her mind felt wrung out and exhausted. She was tired and her spirits had never been so low.
Sitting up in bed, she glanced around the dim tent. Nobody was stirring yet. All the women were still sleeping peacefully. She wished there was noise and bustle, something to distract her from how bad she felt, but all was quiet.
To keep thoughts of the previous day at bay, she collected her toiletries and, climbing from her sleeping bag, made her way wearily to the shower tents. She steadfastly refused to allow herself to think anything, blanking her mind and concentrating solely on her actions moment by moment.
She showered slowly, washed her hair, then toweled it and herself dry. Once again dressed in her nightwear, she wandered back to her bed space and dressed herself in combat trousers and shirt. She methodically laced her boots then found herself sitting on the edge of her bed staring into space.
Thoughts of Joe and their marriage kept trying to infiltrate her mind and she struggled to remain composed. She decided to make her way to the mess. The walk to Camp Churchill would do her good and she had to eat. There was no point in allowing her mood to affect her appetite because that would only be detrimental to her own health and that of her baby. Picking up her weapon, she slung it over her shoulder then left the tent, pausing outside the tent flaps.
The early morning was fresh and warm, with a deep blue sky littered with wispy clouds and the sun a pale yellow orb, its stifling heat not yet in evidence. Katie glanced around her, restless and unable to concentrate. She wanted to run as far away as she could from everything, but she gritted her teeth, straightened her shoulders and started to walk to the main road leading from Camp Roosevelt to Camp Churchill.
She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, keeping her head lowered, oblivious to other people around her and the military vehicles moving up and down the road. She found herself wanting to look around for Joe but knew that this would serve no purpose except for making the pain inside her even harder to bear. The less she saw of him, the better, although that was going to prove extremely difficult with the briefings and their future mission. They could not avoid being in each other’s company and she dreaded the situation with every f
iber of her being.
Approaching the mess, Katie felt nervous.
Will he be in there? What will happen when we see each other?
She almost stopped in her tracks, ready to turn around and escape back to her tent, but that would be putting aside the inevitable. Gathering what remained of her courage and confidence, she continued on, hoping and praying that she could get inside quickly, thereby avoiding meeting anyone that she knew.
Pushing open the doors, she went inside the mess, the odor of cooking food instantly assailing her nostrils. The smell immediately made her stomach churn and she felt a pang of anxiety, wondering if she was going to have to turn and run outside to be sick. The sudden surge of nausea begin to fade when Katie swallowed and she continued on her way to the food counter.
Taking a tray, she avoided the cooked food and went immediately to the cereal shelves. After selecting her breakfast and a bottle of orange juice, she turned to make her way to an empty table near the doors and sat down facing the room, propping her weapon against her chair. She stubbornly refused to search the room for her husband but concentrated on eating her cereal instead, her appetite almost non-existent but knowing that she needed to keep her strength up.
Seated some distance away with Louis Eastman, Joe had seen Katie come in. Unable to resist staring at the door—knowing he had been waiting for her to appear—he had still been startled to see her, having wrongly assumed that she would remain in her tent licking her wounds, but then he had harshly criticized himself for the thought. Knowing Katie as he did, he should have known she wouldn’t hide away. She was courageous, determined and stubborn. He was shocked to see how pale and tired she looked and again berated himself for the thought.
How else do I think she is going to look, happy and laughing with not a care in the world?
His own emotions were at an all-time low. Whatever words he had spoken to Katie the night before had not been out of a lack of love. He loved her and his commitment to her had been the underlying factor leading to their confrontation. He had to live with the hurt he had caused her—not for the first time—but he wondered if there was ever going to be the faintest chance that he could pick up the pieces of their marriage.
A Fallen Hero Page 14