by K. R. Reese
I hold my hand up and lay it on his shoulder. “You can’t bring him back, man, no matter what you do. But you can’t keep blaming yourself. You did what you thought was right at the time. I followed right behind you; I covered your back. He got shot because I didn’t see it coming. You shouldn’t be going…”
Dylan cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Don’t you dare say a fucking word to anyone, Cole, because I’m going today.” He glances at the clock. “Wheels up in two hours. No one is going to stand in my way. Not even you.”
“One word, Dylan, and they’ll pull you from this deployment. That’s all you have to do. We can go talk to someone, hash out our problems. We should have months ago when we got home.”
“You’re mad if you think I’m going to go coddle up to some shrink. I’m fine.” He says the word with such force, it’s amazing he doesn’t crack his teeth. His jaw is clenched, and his hands are fisted at his side.
I take a step back and throw my hands in the air. “Better go throw yourself in a shower, then, because you look like shit. And you’re going to feel even worse if you don’t eat something soon.” I point toward the door. “I’ll be downstairs.”
There aren’t any words exchanged between us after that. I wander back to the kitchen, but Cheyenne isn’t there. I go in search of her, checking the rooms on the lower level. But I can’t find her. My heart speeds up in my chest, trying to break through my ribs. There’s no way she would leave Dylan to get on that plane without her; she’s been there for every deployment, every send off for the both of us. She wouldn’t miss today, no matter the problems they were having.
Right?
I step out onto the porch to find all the cars still in the driveway. That’s when I hear her. Sobbing. Choking. I turn the corner of the porch and go to the swing in the backyard, hidden from prying eyes.
I approach carefully, slowly. I don’t want to spook her.
“I…I didn’t know,” she whispers. Low enough I’m not sure I heard her right.
“You need to speak up, Chey, I can’t hear you.”
Cheyenne’s tear-streaked face looks up and she meets my gaze. “I didn’t know!” she yells. “What you guys went through…” A sob escapes again. “I had no idea. I should have known something was wrong. I mean, I did know that something was off, but I didn’t know what or how to fix it.”
Another sob. More tears.
I sit on the swing beside her and pull her into my arms.
“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Chey, you know that right? What happened…” My voice trails off and I hold my breath. I haven’t talked about this. With anyone. Not the other members of our team. Not Dylan. I’m especially not going to spill my guts to Cheyenne when she’s already struggling.
“Why wouldn’t he come to me? He knows he can say anything, and I would never judge him. I would never blame him. What happened wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t your fault. You were doing what you thought was right. You were trying to help your friend.” Her voice gets lighter, quieter when she finishes.
I close my eyes and inhale through my nose. The nightmares are a constant reminder of what happened that day. But living the reality through the eyes of someone who it should never touch? It’s an ache that will never disappear.
I push the memories to the recesses of my mind. The only way to live day-to-day is to shove them in a box for another time, another day. That day is not today.
“Let’s not talk about this. You heard some things you should have never had to hear. Today’s going to be tough.”
She wipes her face and stands with me. As we go to walk back around the house, I grab her hand and stop her. I stare deep into her eyes, gauging for something. Anything. When I don’t see it, I let her go but not before I say, “Don’t let Dylan know you heard what he said. It’ll only make it worse, and he doesn’t need it. Please.” I grit the last word out between my teeth.
Dylan’s behavior is scary. Chaotic. Irresponsible. But I won’t betray his trust and report him either. Even though everything inside is telling me I should.
We drive silently toward base. I’m scrunched between Dylan and Cole, as usual, but they’re both tense. I know it has everything to do with the conversation they had in the bedroom this morning. The conversation that I overheard because I went to check on them, and now I can’t erase it from my mind.
The thought that my two favorite men, the two strongest people I know, went through such horrors makes me want to curl into a ball and cry. Again.
I can’t do that today, though, because my husband – my Dylan – is going back to where his nightmares began. It’s always been hard to send them off. This time will be even harder. He’s going by himself; Cole won’t be at his back like he always is apparently. On top of that, he’s had one hell of a morning, an emotional morning.
I can feel Cole’s gaze on me from the corner of his eye, but I don’t look in his direction. I stare at the man I fell in love with. The man I married right out of high school, when everyone said we were too young to make that decision, that commitment. I tentatively lay my hand on his thigh. He tenses a moment, then looks over at me with a small smile on his face.
“I love you,” I whisper and lie on his shoulder.
“I love you, too, Chey,” he says.
The rest of the ride is quiet, but I feel like the air is cleared between us. What he said last night still floats around my mind, but I’ll deal with it later. When I’m alone in the house.
We pull up to the gates of the base and they check all our ID’s. This routine is so familiar now, it doesn’t surprise me when we drive through and there are families everywhere. On most occasions, I’d dress nicely to send them off. I wasn’t feeling that today, though, so I’m in jeans and a t-shirt with my hair piled on top of my head.
I follow Cole out of the truck, and he catches me when I stumble. I meet his gaze briefly, but it doesn’t last before he looks away. I know the conversation earlier affected him, too, but he won’t admit it. Dylan grabs his bag from the back, and I meet him to walk to the tarmac.
He stops short of the large group all around and pulls me into his arms.
“I’m going to call you as soon as I can,” he mumbles against my temple.
I squeeze him tighter and close my eyes. I never cry when we do this. I’ve told myself time and again that I need to stay strong for them. I don’t feel strong, but he doesn’t know that.
I pull back and gaze up at him. “I know the drill. My phone stays on loud and is always on my person.” I smile at him lightly.
“You’ve got this, Baby.” He leans in to kiss my temple.
I know he’s staring at Cole over my head. I can feel the tension spike again.
“I expect that you’ll stay with her while I’m away.” It’s a statement, not a question. Since they’ve always been gone together, this will be a change of pace.
“You know I will, if that’s what you both want,” Cole mumbles from behind me.
Dylan nods, but doesn’t release me. I groan in irritation and pull away.
“Why do you both insist on talking about me like I’m not standing right here? Besides, I don’t need a babysitter,” I pout.
Dylan laughs and Cole snorts. I glare at them both.
“It isn’t a babysitter, Chey. He’s there to make sure you’re okay.” Dylan’s eyes are filled with sympathy, like he knows something is going to happen. I hate it, I hate this. I don’t let it show on my face, but I’m furious at him again.
“If that’s what you want to call it,” I grumble this time. It only causes their laughter to get louder.
A horn is blown warning that there’s five-minutes until they need to be on the plane. In a split second, I’m pulled back into Dylan’s arms tightly and I can’t breathe.
“I love you, Chey, so much. Wait for me,” he whispers for only me to hear.
“I love you. Come home to me,” I whisper back. My eyes are clenched tight, fighting the tears that want to fa
ll.
When he pulls away, my face is neutral. There is no sign of my discomfort or emotions at this situation.
Cole comes in for their weird, one-armed man hugs. He pats Dylan on the back. “We’ll be here to pick you up. Just say the word.”
I hear the words, but I’m no longer listening intently. My eyes are focused on the other families saying their goodbyes.
Once they pull away from each other, Cole stands beside me and flings his arm over my shoulder. Dylan blows me a kiss as he walks backwards to where the others are taking the ramp onto the gigantic plane. I send one his way and he grins that mischievous grin I’ve missed so much. Like the old Dylan, the one that wasn’t hardened from the military, was back for a minute.
I stand there silently, gripping onto Cole’s hand like he’s my lifeline. I know there are tears flowing freely down my cheeks, but I don’t make a move to wipe them away. Dylan’s no longer in view, so I don’t have to be strong anymore.
Cole nudges my shoulder and keeps his arm tight around me. He doesn’t make a move at first, then exhales slowly.
“Come on, Chey, let’s go back to the house.” His words are light, a whisper. They don’t penetrate my mind, and I stand frozen while everyone around me is leaving.
Cole latches onto my hand and entwines our fingers. I follow blindly because there’s nothing else for me to do. He places me inside the truck and drives. I don’t pay attention to anything outside the window, I don’t pay attention to the radio that’s on low. There’s nothing left for me to give today. This is my reaction every time I have to say goodbye to them. Cole doesn’t know that, neither does Dylan or Mason. A few times, I’m not sure how I even drove home to begin with. But I always managed.
After the emotional turmoil of the past forty-eight hours, I could sleep for days. Which is what I plan to do once I get inside the house that will no longer feel like a home. Not until Dylan’s home safely.
Cheyenne escaped to her bedroom the moment we stepped through the door. I didn’t try to talk her out of it because I felt she needed the alone time. I’ve never seen her like she is now; there’s no life inside her eyes, like she checked out when Dylan stepped onto that plane. A part of me wonders if she’s always like this, every time we leave. We’ve deployed together every time, so there’s no way for me to know if she reacts this way. And since I have no experience with this, I let her be.
I’ve been perched on the couch watching pointless television for a few hours when my phone rings.
Unknown number.
I know it hasn’t been long enough for Dylan to make it across the ocean. That means there’s only one other person on the end of the line, and I don’t want to tell him his sister is catatonic because her husband signed up for a suicide mission willingly.
I sigh and slide my finger on the screen.
“Hello?”
Static greets me before I hear Mason’s voice on the other end.
“Hey, man, have you heard from my sister?”
I run a hand through my hair. “Not in the past couple of hours. We sent Dylan off today and she’s not very conversational.”
“Shit, I forgot about that. I didn’t realize it was today.” His words catch me off guard because we weren’t told until two days ago. How long has Mason known? I don’t ask those questions, though, I just let him continue. “I tried to call her a couple times, but she didn’t pick up. Are you staying with her?”
I nod before I remember he can’t see me. “I haven’t left yet, but I’ll have to run home and grab some clothes soon. I’m coming back though. Dylan thought it best I stay here until he gets home.”
Mason laughs. “Of course, he did. Because Cheyenne is mute when you guys leave and doesn’t do anything. I’m normally the one that has to haul ass every time you guys deploy so she isn’t alone for long.”
There’s concern in his voice, something I haven’t heard in a long time. “I wondered if this was normal behavior. I’ve never seen Cheyenne act like this, Mason, and it scares the shit out of me.”
“This isn’t news to me, buddy, she’s always this way. The only thing you can do is be there for her. She’ll talk eventually, you just need to coax it out of her.” Another sigh. “Listen, I have to go. But tell her I love her, and I’ll try to call in a few days.”
“Will do, Mace, talk soon.”
I disconnect the call and lean my head back on the couch, closing my eyes. Today has been a long day, and it isn’t even 9 o’clock, yet. I should probably order dinner since I’m not sure what’s here to make, and I make a note to check what to grab from the store tomorrow.
I call in an order for takeout and head up the stairs. There’s no noise from the bedroom at the end of the hall, but I know Chey’s in there. I watched her go through the door myself.
I knock lightly and listen for a response. When she doesn’t give me one, I knock again. “Come on, Chey, you need to eat something.”
I’m greeted with silence. Again. I huff out a breath and close my eyes tight. “I’m coming in, Chey,” I growl.
I open the door and see her form underneath the blanket on the bed. She looks so peaceful when she’s asleep, like there aren’t a ton of troubles in her mind and in her heart. I hate to disturb her, but I know she didn’t eat this morning and she skipped lunch. I’ll carry her over my shoulder if I have to.
“You’ve got to get out of bed, Cheyenne,” I nudge her sleeping form. “This isn’t what Dylan would want right now, and you’ve been holed up in here all day. Takeout should be here any minute, and you are coming downstairs to eat.”
The blanket pulls down from her face and I suck in a sharp breath. Her eyes are bloodshot, her face is red and splotchy. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s been crying on and off most of the day. While I can’t do anything about that, I can force her to take care of herself.
“I know it sucks, Chey, but you can’t ignore life. You still have to take care of your basic needs. Like food. And water.” I sniff the air. “Possibly a shower.”
There it is. She glares at my words. I smile in return. “Out of bed,” I say louder and yank the blanket from her. I instantly regret the decision and avert my gaze somewhere else in the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you weren’t dressed. I’ll leave you to it.”
The doorbell rings a moment later. “If you aren’t downstairs in five minutes, I’m coming back in here and carrying you. This isn’t up for debate.”
I rush out of the room and skid to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. I wouldn’t have pulled the blanket off if I had known she was only wearing one of Dylan’s shirts and her panties. It isn’t anything I haven’t already seen, but I didn’t need a physical reminder. I take a deep breath and compose myself before I head to answer the door.
Once I pay the delivery guy and place the food on the table, I listen for Cheyenne’s movements. I don’t hear anything, again, and make my way back upstairs. The door is slightly ajar and she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed this time.
“Food’s here, Chey,” I push the door open further.
“I heard the doorbell ring; I’ll be down in a minute.” Her voice is quiet and reserved, and I don’t like it. Cheyenne is never like this, and I’ve known her my entire life.
“I’m not leaving this door until you’re following me down the stairs.” I lean against the frame and watch her intently.
“Listen, Cole, I know you’re trying to make me feel better. But, after our fight last night, I’m not sure how this deployment will be with Dylan. We seem so separated, even more than the miles between us. You can go home; I’ll be fine on my own.”
I arch my brows at her and half-smile. “Do you really think you can get rid of me that easily? Because that’s not going to happen, not after I spoke to Mason earlier. He tried to call you earlier, but you didn’t answer. He said he’ll try again in a few days.”
For a moment, her eyes light up and it’s something I haven’t seen in a few days. “Mace called
? Why didn’t you come get me? I would’ve talked to him.”
“I thought you were asleep. I didn’t know you were up crying into your pillow by yourself. Now, let’s go eat before it gets cold.”
Cheyenne stops outside her bedroom door and looks over her shoulder at me. “I know there are better things you could be doing. But thank you for being here. Even if it’s for Dylan’s benefit.”
With that, she leaves me to stare open-mouthed where she disappeared down the stairs. I shake my head, hoping it helps to clear my thoughts. Now might not be the right time, but it has to be said. Cheyenne needs to know, even if it causes it to be awkward between us for the remainder of the time I’m here.
I storm down the stairs after her, only to find her in the living room with food spread out. I walk toward the couch and sit at the opposite end from her.
“You don’t let us eat in here.” I make the obvious statement to get rid of the tension in the room.
Cheyenne shrugs her shoulders and picks up the container closest to her. “There are exceptions to every rule. Today’s an exception because nothing feels normal right now, and it’ll take a few days before it does again.”
I nod and dig into the food. After a few more minutes of silence, I catch her staring at me. I run my napkin over my mouth self-consciously. She smirks in return.
“You’re creeping me out,” I mumble.
“I’m trying to figure out how I deserved such a great best friend.” She shakes her head and looks away. “It still doesn’t make any sense.”
I sit my container of food on the table and turn toward her. “Listen, Chey, there’s actually something I need to say.” She goes to interrupt, but I hold my hand up. “Let me say it because it’s important. I’m not here for Dylan’s benefit. I know he asked me to stay, but I would have been here anyway. You’re used to both of us leaving together, you’re used to the knowledge that I’ve got his back and he has mine. That dynamic is different with this deployment. I know it bothers you; it bothers me, too, but there’s nothing I can do to change it. I’m here because I want to be. I’m here for you.”