Just Once

by Rebecca Brooke

  I sniffled. “How can I not? He doesn’t want me.”

  “Yes he does. But right now in his head, he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. That you could do so much better than him.”

  My heart splintered. “That’s not true.”

  The sounds of the people rising from their beds came from the door and I knew I needed to wrap up the call. We all had our moments of weakness. Moments when being away got to be too much. This time I didn’t feel like talking. I wiped the tears from my face.

  “Joey? Are you still there?” Tanner sounded worried.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Look I’ve got go.” All I wanted was to get off the phone. I needed to time to process.

  “Okay. Just . . . just don’t give up on him. He needs you more than he’s willing to admit.”

  “I’ll try. It’s hard when I can’t see him.”

  “You only have about two weeks left, and you can call here whenever you’d like. If he won’t pick up, we’ll give you updates.”

  “Thank you, Tanner. And thank Danielle for me.”

  “I will. She’ll keep trying to talk to him.”

  “’Bye.”

  “’Bye, Joey. Be safe.”

  I disconnected the call and sat there for a few minutes. Could I really fight for us all by myself? Was I strong enough? Only time would tell.

  The reality was that until I could stand in front of him and hear the words from his own lips, I had no idea what I would be strong enough to do.

  Chapter 24

  Colin

  Fucking ridiculous.

  Four months of physical therapy and nothing. I was still dependent on crutches to get around. It didn’t matter what fucking exercise I tried, nothing ever got better. Each and every week, the idiot therapists would spout off some bullshit about “improved mobility” or “function percentage increase.” I’d had enough of listening to their crap. After another pointless session with no tangible progress, I climbed into my car. I needed to find a bar. Fast.

  What the fuck am I going to do at home anyway?

  Normally, I hit the same bar every day after therapy. But when I came to a stop, I looked up to see my subconscious had brought me to the one place I studiously avoided. The place I met Joey.

  Joey was still deployed. Her tour had been extended by a month. I knew this because Danielle told me. I still wasn’t taking Joey’s calls. I’d been called stupid and childish more times than I could count over the last few weeks, but still couldn’t bring myself to answer the phone, even though my stomach churned every time I saw her name flash up on my screen. She didn’t need me. She’d be better off finding someone else. What was she going to do with a man who couldn’t protect her? Who couldn’t even stand on his own two feet?

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat and stared up at the sign. For a brief second I thought about backing out of the space and heading home. Then I remembered going home meant facing Greg and having to have the “Why are you being an asshole” conversation again. Forcing myself to snap out of my little pity party, I ground my teeth together and threw the car into park, pulled the stupid crutches from the backseat, and went inside.

  Taking the first stool in front of me, I dropped money onto the bar and ordered my first round of drinks. Each night was the same: a few shots, a few beers, then head home and have a few more drinks. If I was lucky, I’d be able to go to bed without the nightmares. I didn’t know how much more I could take. Seeing Joey die right in front of me was a pain like no other. And each time I woke up, there was that three second lag where I thought it was real; that I’d lost her. It was worse than the grief I’d felt when Nate died because Nate died once. I lost Joey over and over, every single night.

  The first drink went down quickly, burning my throat before it hit my stomach. The glass hit the bar and I immediately picked up the beer, downing half of it in one swallow, continuing this pattern for another hour or so until the sounds of the crowded bar started to close in on me. The noise grew to the point it was painful to my ears and in the next second it would drop so that it sounded like it was coming from a tunnel.

  Maybe I’ve had enough.

  Maybe tonight she’ll survive.

  I left a tip and climbed down from the stool and grabbed the crutches. Nothing felt out of sorts, besides the noise. I wasn’t too drunk to make to the door without incident and once my face hit the cool night air and the noises faded away, I felt calm. Figuring the heat must have been too high inside, I climbed behind the wheel of the car.

  About two minutes into my drive, another car was coming down the street in the opposite direction. I was only minutes from home, I could make it. All I needed was to lie down and rest. My chest felt tight and it became hard to breathe. Something was wrong. My vision blurred. I could barely see ahead of me.

  I pulled to the side of the road and took deep breaths. The thought of something happening to Joey hit me like a freight train. All the times I’d seen her die in my dreams came rushing back. Nothing could stop the tears pouring down my face. If something happened to her, I’d be the last to know because I refused to answer her calls.

  Her calls.

  She called almost every night. If she wasn’t okay, she wouldn’t be calling me. It was those thoughts that began to settle me, and I wiped my eyes on the back of my sleeve. Slowly, the constriction loosened enough that I could make the rest of the drive home.

  I parked on the street, not caring that the car looked like it had been abandoned. I just needed to be in my room. I needed to be . . . anywhere. Anywhere but where I was.

  I fell through the door, only just managing to hold myself upright on my crutches, and went straight for my room. Greg sat on the couch. I didn’t even stop to say hello. Every breath became a struggle. It wasn’t only the sounds. It now felt as if the walls, even my own body, was closing in.

  Just get to your room.

  It’ll all go away.

  You’ll be okay.

  Just get to your room.

  With a bang, I shut the door and dropped onto the edge of my bed. My hands fisted in the sheets as I tried to push myself past whatever was happening to my body. Something was wrong. My vision began to tunnel, but not enough for me to black out completely. I could hear banging on my door, but I couldn’t lift my head. I focused on a spot on the carpet and I pulled in each shaking breath on a count of three.

  “Colin?” I could hear Greg but I couldn’t stop counting. I was afraid of what might happen if I tried. “Colin, are you okay?”

  I dropped my head between my knees. I didn’t want him to see me this way. I was a freaking Army ranger. There was no way in hell I was going to give the Army more of a reason to push me into civilian life, and if Greg saw this then I knew there would be no stopping him from talking to someone about it. This would be the end of the line for him. I couldn’t let that happened.

  I wouldn’t let it happen.

  In a few minutes I would calm down and be fine. All I needed was to be left alone for a few minutes.

  The door smashed into the wall.

  “Holy shit, Colin. What the hell happened?”

  I lifted my head, blinking once, twice, three times because I couldn’t for the life of me understand why Greg would have brought three of him.

  And why is he swaying like that? It’s making me feel dizzy.

  I shook my head and the Greg’s merged. He took one look at me and bolted from the room, returning seconds later with a bag in his hands, and dropped to the floor in front of me. He worked quickly, taking all of my vital signs.

  “Did you take something?” He placed a strip across my forehead.

  I ripped it off and threw it to the floor. There was no way I’d let him tell me that I needed to see a doctor of any kind.

  “I’m fine,” I argued.

  “Bullshit. Your pulse is racing. Not to mention you’re sweaty and pale.”

  I gave him a shove. “I said, I’m fine.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest
. “You can’t keep going on like this. I told you this before we left the last time that you needed to talk to someone.”

  “I don’t need to talk to anyone,” I yelled.

  He glared at me. “Yeah. You’re so fine, you spend every night getting drunk just to sleep. Then you expect physical therapy to work miracles overnight.”

  I stood as best I could on one leg. There was no way I was going to sit there while Greg talked down to me. Who was he to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do? He wasn’t my mother. Couldn’t he see that I had this under control. If he would just give me one fucking second . . .

  “So what, I’ve had a few drinks every once in a while. And, yeah, in four months of therapy I should be seeing some progress.”

  “There’s been progress, at least in the beginning. But when you show up hungover to every PT appointment, do you really think it’s going to work?”

  “I’ve put in everything I’ve got.”

  “Sure you have—right into the bottle. Shit, you haven’t talked to Joey in weeks.”

  I should have known he’d bring up Joey. “She’s doing what she loves, flying planes. What the hell does she need me for?”

  “Maybe because even though you’ve become a raging asshole most of the time, she still cares about you. Even though you decline every single call she makes, she still tries to Skype you every fucking night. Shit, I’ve talked to her more in the last few weeks than you have.” He shrugged, clearly frustrated with the whole conversation. “Maybe you never really cared for her as much as you pretended. Maybe she was just a convenient and quick piece of ass to you.”

  Not a thought crossed my mind when I braced my weight on my good foot, and pulled my arm back to swing it forward into Greg’s face. His head snapped sideways, knocking him to the ground.

  I might have been angry, but I couldn’t ignore the look of disgust that crossed his face, or the subsequent feeling in my chest when I recognized that it was aimed at me. He lifted his hand to wipe the blood from his split lip and pushed himself up. “You know what, Colin, I’m done. If you want real help come and find me, but until then you’re on your own.”

  He grabbed his bag and supplies, slamming the door behind him. I waited for the relief to come; after all, that was what I wanted—to be left alone.

  Wasn’t it?

  No longer did I struggle to draw breath. Instead I felt empty. Like nothing. No one cared. No one gave a damn that I’d never regain the real use of my leg. They all wanted me to put on a bright fucking smile and pretend everything was okay. I grabbed around for something to throw, needing the release, and my hand landed on the book from the nightstand. I whipped it across the room, into the mirror. It bounced. I couldn’t even do that right.

  My hand touched an empty liquor bottle and I used what little strength I had left to toss it. It hit the mirror and both the bottle and glass smashed, the pieces falling against the ground, the light from the windows catching the broken fragments and casting specks of light around the room like a disco ball. At some point I would have to clean it up but at least the mirror was gone. It was hard enough to look at the man I’d become. Now I wouldn’t be able to see him.

  The man in the mirror was weak. Soft. He was someone who would never be able to take care of anyone again.

  And I was that man.

  He was me.

  I didn’t deserve anyone. Joey was better off without that man—better off without me. If only letting her go was as easy to do as it was to say. Either way, I wouldn’t let her suffer with my disability. I’d only make her miserable.

  My eyes scanned the room, the memories we’d made seemed to laugh at me from the shadows.

  I had to get out of here.

  I grabbed my keys and left the apartment. I’d go drink enough to pass out. Maybe then the nightmares would leave me alone.

  At least, for one night.

  Chapter 25

  Joey

  The plane ride should have been the longest of my life. Going home always seemed to take forever. Now that I was on my way home to see Colin for myself, I expected hours to feel like days. Except, the one time I want the flight to be long, giving me more time to face my fear of seeing Colin or not seeing Colin, it wasn’t.

  The nausea set in about halfway home, the idea of confronting him making me more nervous than I wanted to admit. I knew not to expect him to be there when I got back. But I still held out hope that I was wrong.

  I really wanted to be wrong.

  Squad members hugged as we exited the plane. It was our own small celebration for those of us returning safely. In a few days we would recognize those lives lost, but for now, we would celebrate our reunions with our families. The buses were already at the end of the tarmac, waiting to take us back to the building where we’d be dismissed from, sent home to get some well deserved R&R. Everyone slowly made their way over, climbing aboard. The excitement was almost palpable.

  I put on a happy face and walked to the bus. I didn’t want anyone to ask me if I was okay because I wasn’t sure if I could hold it together long enough to lie to them.

  I was a wreck. My mouth was dry and my knees felt weaker with every step I took. An arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me along.

  “Come on, Brant, you could look at least a little excited. I get to eat Carla’s cooking again instead of the shit they serve in the mess tent.”

  “You know she’s only gonna cook for you for a week before she’s gives up and makes you do it on your own, don’t you?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. What’s on your mind? You don’t seem happy to be home.”

  “I am. It’s just . . .” Even if I thought it was true, I couldn’t bring myself to voice the thought aloud.

  “You don’t think he’s going to be waiting for you when we get there.”

  “No,” I whispered.

  We were about to step onto the bus when Jensen kissed me on the side of the head. “Then go after him. It’s obvious you care about him. If you want the man you met at the bar, go after him. Bring him back.”

  “What if I can’t find him?”

  “You will. When have you ever backed down from a challenge?” He winked and climbed aboard the bus.

  He was right. I didn’t back down from a challenge.

  But this was different.

  This time my heart was on the line.

  The ride was short, not giving me a lot of time to prepare for what I would find behind those doors. I licked my lips and stepped through the door.

  Soldiers all around me ran to their family members, and through the mass of bodies I searched and searched, but Colin was nowhere to be found. There was a familiar face in the crowd, however.

  “He’s not coming, is he?” I asked Tanner when I reached him.

  “No, but we’re going to him.” There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, hidden by a mask of determination. He was trying really hard to hide it—I’d give him that—but I was used to reading people. I was good at it. There was something he wasn’t telling me, but after the disappointment of Colin’s no-show and the exhaustion that came with finally being home, I didn’t have it in me to ask.

  Tanner turned and walked on ahead, not waiting for me to follow, not questioning that I might not. I pulled my bag higher on my shoulder, my feet firmly planted. I didn’t want to fall into the trap so many women fell into. Begging a man to stay with them when he really didn’t want to be there. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I called to his back.

  He paused mid-step, then turned slowly. I felt his eyes rake over me. I didn’t like being scrutinized but I remained still. “It’s a great idea. Besides I have a story to tell you on the way there.”

  “A story?” My interest was piqued, but what was it they said about curiosity and cats?

  He nodded and reached out a hand to take my duffel. “One that I think will help you change your mind about going to him.”

  Would what he had to say be enough to get me p
ast the feeling of being unwanted? My first reaction was no, it wouldn’t. But it was hard to ignore the slight flutter in my stomach at the thought of seeing him, even if it would be the last time. Reluctantly, I handed my bag over.

  “I’ll go, but only if you promise to take me home if I decide not to go see him.”

  “I promise, but I don’t think you will.”

  I sighed. I’d put myself out there hundreds of times before Colin, and each and every time ended in disappointment. I thought he would be different. He told me he was different. And I’d believed him. But he hadn’t been honest with me.

  In the time since Colin stopped taking my calls, I’d managed to get Danielle to talk. She explained that he was feeling “less than.” Less than capable of looking after me in the way that a man should. Less than comfortable with the fact that his therapy was moving at a snail’s pace. He was also less than thrilled that his therapist had mentioned switching his track to reentering civilian life.

  So while Colin wasn’t intimidated by my job in the Army, he was using it as an excuse for why I wouldn’t accept him for him. But how could I explain to him that he was wrong if he wouldn’t even talk to me.

  And how long should I try?

  Tanner started down the road toward the barracks. He opened his mouth to speak a few times but no words came out.

  “The story?” After one of the longest deployments of my life, all I wanted was to go home and cry myself to sleep. I was finally free to go back to my place and be alone. I was fast running out of patience.

  “I’m trying to figure out where to start.”

  “The beginning?”

  “You already know pieces of the beginning, but I guess it’s as good of place as any.” He paused for a moment, before continuing. “You already know Nate was killed in action a few years ago. And you know that it happened right in front of Colin.”

  I didn’t understand where he was going. Yes, there was a link to the fact that both Colin and I had been in a situation where our lives had been threatened, but that was commonplace in a career such as ours. And neither Colin or I died in that crash. We sustained injuries, but we were alive. “Yeah, but what’s the point?”