Broken Soldier: OMYW Instalove Romance

by Haley Travis

  “Yes,” we both said at the same time.

  He smiled, nodding, then said, “James, I’m sorry, but to get a clear scan of that area, I’m going to have to bear down with the wand a bit. Depending on how tender it is, it might hurt like hell, but it will only be ten to twenty seconds.”

  I instantly reached out to hold his right hand, standing as close as I could beside him. “I’m sure I’ve been through worse,” he said. “Go ahead.”

  I knew that James controlled himself very well through painful exercises and stretches, but this was a different sort of pain. His hand clenched around mine, then released it immediately. I felt like he didn’t want me to know how much it hurt.

  I’m not sure why that bothered me so much. He was a wonderful man with other people, but he didn’t seem to extend that same compassion to himself.

  In the army they seemed to teach people to be tightly controlled, but I wished that he would let go of that and allow himself to feel every emotion he needed to express right now.

  Gavin finished quickly, removing the wand and saving the scan files.

  “Well, what is it?” James said. His voice sounded deeper, scratchy, as if his throat was partially closed.

  Gavin flashed me a glance. “Your doctor will contact you with the results. I’m not allowed to interpret the scans.”

  I could feel him starting to seethe, and gave his hand a squeeze. “James, could you please wait in the hallway for a second? I have a couple of nerdy questions about this machine.”

  “Sure.”

  As he swung his legs over the table and stood up, grabbing his cane, I could clearly see that he was in more pain than usual.

  The second the door was shut behind him, I went through the scan with Gavin, both of us carefully discussing the technology, not the patient. Without him exactly saying what the problem was, I was able to see the issue, and have him confirm it.

  I wrenched the door open to see James was staring at me wide-eyed. Flinging my arms around him, I held him tightly. “Relax, it’s nothing terrible,” I said quickly. “It’s a tiny fix. You’re going to be absolutely fine.”

  His arms wrapped around me so tightly it was almost tricky to breathe for a few seconds. “Thank you, baby. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he muttered.

  Thanking Karen on the way by, we rushed to the car and I drove him home quickly while explaining the situation.

  It was an infection that could be dangerous if left untreated. If it had been missed, it could easily have led to septicemia, which was quite serious. But his doctor would most definitely be calling him tomorrow with a prescription for antibiotics, and a request to stop doing his exercises for a few days until the swelling went down.

  I would have thought that James would be excited by this positive news. Instead, he simply nodded, staring out the window on the way back to his house.

  As we were getting out of the car, my instinct was to rush around and help him, but I stopped myself. It was obvious that he hated appearing weak, even though he was clearly limping and leaning heavily on his cane on the way up to the door.

  “I know that must have really hurt,” I said gently. “Instead of going out tonight, what if we just order in a pizza or something?”

  “That’s a good idea,” he said slowly, but then he stopped, staring down at his feet. “Molly, I really appreciate your help today, and every moment since I met you. Your light, your sweetness has shaken some things loose inside me. I was numb for a long time, and now I feel more alive, I guess.” It was unnerving that he wasn’t smiling.

  “This doesn’t seem to make you happy,” I said.

  “Some of it does, some of it doesn’t.”

  He shook his head. “I’m really sorry to hit pause on this relationship so soon, but I just can’t stand the thought of bringing you down when I’m this moody.”

  Stepping closer, I put an arm around his shoulder so that I could slide my fingers up the back of his neck. “James, it’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay,” he whispered. “You are such a beautiful person, so full of life and light. I can’t drain your energy. I can’t be a burden to you.”

  “Spending one night in instead of going out when we’re both tired is hardly a burden,” I tried to smile.

  “Just like that,” he said, his eyes suffering as he looked down at me. “You always look on the bright side, which is amazing. But when I’m feeling low, and…not as strong as I should be, I can’t always force myself to put on a happy face.”

  “I don’t expect that.”

  “I know,” he said earnestly, taking my hand in his. “You’re so wonderful that you don’t have any expectations. But I don’t feel that I can give you what you need until I sort out some of this darkness.”

  I nodded, then realized something important. He never told me how he got injured. For all I knew, it could have been something incredibly traumatic.

  Usually, people discuss a few details about their injuries, especially if it’s anything they could possibly make a joke about to lighten the mood while they are in physical therapy. James had never breathed a word about it except that one funny comment to my father.

  “Molly, I really appreciate you helping me today, and especially getting me an answer immediately so that I didn’t have to wait.”

  “I’m also selfish and needed to know for myself.” I tested a little smile as I looked up at him. “I didn’t want to spend the entire weekend wondering whether it was something serious. Plus, you get to skip your exercises for a while. That must be a relief.”

  This time he actually cracked a half smile. “Just when I was starting to get better at them.”

  James wrapped his strong arm around me, pulling me into his chest as he kissed the top of my hair. “Molly, please forgive me, but I think I need to be alone for a few days to sort some things out.”

  “No problem,” I said quickly. “Realizing what you feel you need is one of the first steps to healing anything,” I said. “But if you need someone to deliver food, help you around the house, or even just listen to you process some of your feelings and fears, I’m a phone call away.”

  “Big tough men aren’t supposed to have fears,” he said, leaning in to kiss my lips for barely a second. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, baby.”

  He disappeared into the house, and I drove away feeling completely uneasy.

  James definitely needed a therapist to talk to, to express his emotions and tell the stories that he didn’t feel he could tell anyone else.

  But I remember someone once telling me that military men hardly ever went to therapy. It was a point of pride, but also an acknowledgment of being broken. Tough guys did not confess when they experienced pain or discomfort. They powered through. It was part of the culture. The mindset of being a big, strong man.

  Instead of turning left to go home, I suddenly turned right, heading to a local bookstore.

  I knew that I was being pushy, and that James was feeling fragile. All I could do was hope that one more positive, hopeful push wouldn’t frighten him off entirely.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  * James *

  I’d never felt like more of an asshole in my life. Canceling the date with Molly wasn’t something I would have ever imagined I’d do. But today, I just couldn’t be near her anymore. Not her personally. Anyone.

  When she had found that lump on my leg, every terrifying moment I had gone through during the entire traumatic surgery process came flooding back. If they had to open me up again, I honestly didn’t know whether I would allow it or not.

  But Molly’s persuasive sweetness got me the answer I needed immediately.

  I knew that I owed her a wonderful night, but she was far too perceptive to see through my mask if I tried to fake it. My grumpiness had stepped aside to make room for full-on uncomfortable brooding.

  After around twenty minutes or so on the couch, staring at the ceiling as I became one with my inner asshole, I heard a tap at the front door
. Grumbling, I grabbed my cane and shuffled to answer it.

  Molly’s car was already leaving the driveway and turning onto the street. Looking down, she had left a bright white gift bag.

  I took it in, setting it on the coffee table to look inside. There were two notebooks. One was matte black, with unlined pages, the other had a leafy green cover and pages with lines for writing. There were also three rather nice pens in the bottom of the bag, in green, blue, and black.

  A piece of light yellow paper held her flowing handwriting.

  “James, you need to vent your stress. If you don’t want to go to a therapist, that’s okay, as long as you vent somewhere. I don’t mean to be pushy, but I bet if you spent an hour a day downloading your thoughts, fears, and anger onto the page, you’d feel lighter. Please, could you try it for a few days, then text me?”

  Sitting down heavily on the couch, I shocked myself by laughing loudly. My sweet, darling girl must have noticed that I didn’t deal with my inner demons very well.

  I didn’t have any drinking buddies to share my innermost secrets with. I didn’t have any close family. My best friend was...gone. And I certainly wasn’t going to go to some shrink who had no idea about the things I’d been through, and the importance of blanking things out of my mind in order to function.

  But if Molly wanted me to write in a journal, and go through all of my problems and crappy memories to clean them out of my brain, she must have thought it was important.

  The thought of it filled me with cold, eerie dread. There were so many things I kept locked away.

  Staring down at the notebooks, part of me wanted to take another painkiller and numb myself with old movies for the rest of the day. But I’d been doing that for the past few months.

  It was time to change. I wanted to be better, for her.

  Then I realized the truth. I needed Molly in my life. If I had to straighten out my mind to do that, it was just something that needed to be done.

  One of the most important mottos I’d ever learned was, “Embrace the suck.” It was a military expression, but it was also a stoic philosophy.

  Whether it was scrubbing toilets, digging ditches, or doing a hundred more push-ups, there were things in this life that just had to be done. And it was going to suck. You could gripe about it, or you could put your head down and get through it like a man.

  And if you could see the finish line, you could find a way to get there.

  If I were to write down all of the horrible, absolutely shitty experiences I’d had, and every single wretched feeling that had taken hold of me along the way, maybe I could let it all go. Or at least, turn down the intensity of how much energy and space it was taking up in my mind.

  The memories I’d locked away, and the worst day of my life, would eat away at me forever if I didn’t relive them one last time.

  Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward on the couch and selected the black pen and black notebook.

  It was time to embrace the suck.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  * Molly *

  I’ve always been an optimistic person, but my hopes and dreams had usually been for others, rather than myself.

  One of the reasons I became a physical therapist was that I loved watching people overcome obstacles. I loved being a cheerleader for people, helping them acknowledge the tiniest bit of progress, and celebrate every milestone.

  This time, though, it was unbelievably personal.

  I could feel that James was a truly good person, but he wasn’t doing himself any favors by keeping things locked away.

  Being slightly pushy with physical health was helpful most of the time, and everyone seemed to tolerate it from me, because of my positive attitude.

  Pushing James out of his comfort zone with his personal and emotional issues felt terrifying. To be honest, he didn’t seem to have a comfort zone. It felt like the wall he kept around himself was two stories high, and he didn’t enjoy it.

  It had probably given him some stability and comfort in the beginning, but now the slightest stress might make him crumble.

  I went home to take a long bath to try to calm down. I was so nervous that my muscles had begun to tense up.

  My biggest fear was that James would shut me out and stop speaking to me. He could easily change clinics, and never see me again. Or worse, stop doing his exercises completely. Even if he was angry, I needed him to keep the lines of communication open.

  After half an hour in the tub listening to a podcast about the health benefits of hiking, I wrapped myself in my cozy robe and curled up on the couch. Reaching for my phone, I saw that James had sent me a text, flooding me with relief.

  James: I’ve been writing for over an hour straight, baby. You’re right. I need to get some of this crap out of my head.

  James: This is unbelievably painful, and I have a feeling it’s going to get worse before it gets better, but I need you to know that I’m trying.

  Me: I’m so proud of you. Take breaks if you need to, but keep at it when you can.

  James: I’m going to write until my hand falls off. Sleep well, and I’ll call you tomorrow. Hugs.

  Me: Can’t wait. xox

  I fell into an uneasy sleep, somehow hopeful and anxious and rattled all at the same time.

  My bed seemed too big without James in it. It was probably selfish of me to miss his arms around me when he was going through so much, but I did. I felt so much more grounded when he was near me. The whole world felt more solid. Stable. As if he were some sort of weight that tethered me to the world properly.

  I woke up feeling a bit better, and spent the day trying to keep busy with house cleaning and errands. Just after dinner, my phone rang. “Hello?”

  “I miss you so much, baby,” that deep voice rumbled. “I don’t want to stop writing, but I had to call to thank you.”

  “You’re still at it?”

  “Yeah – I was up half the night, and started again this morning.”

  “That’s a lot,” I said slowly. “Are you stretching out your wrist and arm?” I instantly started to laugh. “Sorry, it’s just how I’m wired.”

  James chuckled as well. “I actually thought of that when my hand began to cramp up, so I set an alarm to remind me to stretch it out every hour.”

  “That’s a really good idea.”

  “Also, you’ll be happy to know that my doctor called. He’s already sent me antibiotics that won’t interfere with my painkillers. It should clear up within a few days, but I’m supposed to go easy and watch it for at least two weeks.”

  “Oh, I’m so relieved,” I exhaled.

  “Thank you, Molly,” he said softly. “The doctor also said that if it had gone on for another week, it might have turned serious.”

  “I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

  “I’m more than okay, baby. I’m…I’m still figuring it out, but I think I’m a lot better already. I have a really huge chunk of memory to tap into and write out tonight, but I feel like after getting through some of the smaller things, I can do this.”

  “I know you can, James,” I said. “You’re strong, you’re tough, and you can do anything.”

  “Now that I have you, yes I can,” he said, and I could actually hear him smiling. “May I take you out to dinner tomorrow night to thank you?”

  “Actually,” I said hesitantly, “What if I brought takeout to your place? That way you could stay off your leg.”

  He hesitated.

  “I promise not to be this overprotective all the time,” I said quickly, “Just this week while the infection heals. Alright?”

  He was silent for a few seconds, and I wondered if he was upset. Then he chuckled a bit. “Sorry, I was nodding. I’m so distracted and all over the place that I forgot you couldn’t see me.”

  I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

  “Sure, I’ll let you fuss over me for one more week, but that’s it. I’m going to lay down the law,” he said.

  “That’s absolutely
fine.”

  “All right,” he said, and I heard some shuffling in the background. “I’m going to attack this next section, and get it over with so I can sleep better tonight. I miss you, baby, but I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

  “Me too. Good night.”

  I was so happy that tears pricked my eyes. His voice was still sexy gravel, but it was more expressive. There was more life in it. He was definitely opening up, and even if he never became an emotional guy who spoke about his feelings at great length, at least the door was cracking open.