NINE
There’s a fine line between love and hate, and the gray areas blur the truth hiding within me.
~ Savannah Bushard
Florida in September is invigorating. There’s a refreshing atmosphere in the little town south of the Alabama state line called Lakeview. It’s where Styx brought me after I went home to Texas and realized I couldn’t live there anymore. I needed a fresh start somewhere else—a new beginning.
Especially after I ran into the ex when Styx and I were coming out of the grocery store. I thought I was going to lose my cool all over again when he walked up and introduced his pregnant wife to me. And then, after telling me about his other two children, proceeded to ask me how I was and what I’d been up to? Slimeball. I couldn’t believe the nerve.
However, Styx was very calm when he introduced himself. A fierce storm that moves in fast and hard and catches you unawares. As they shook hands, Styx leaned in and whispered something. If I were to guess, I’d say his disapproval of the encounter. Dudley Doright squirmed and tried to get away, but Styx’s strength and piercing eyes were relentless in getting his point across. When Styx finally let go, the mothertrucker turned tail and got out of there as fast as he could, dragging his waddling wife.
Styx’s calm façade faded away when the couple left. The sight of his tightened jaw and blood pumping in the veins on his neck, waiting to burst as he watched them scurry away, encouraged the move. The straw that broke the camel’s back.
So, here we are now. In this small coastal town.
It doesn’t hurt that Ella and Grayson moved back and are living really close by, too. They’re expecting a child. Ella’s asked me to be the godmother. I wanted to argue with her, scream and yell. How could she choose me for such an important role? Of course, I gave in to her, because she’s my best friend. I could never say no to her.
Ninety percent of the time, I’m a hot mess inside and out. At times, I don’t understand how anyone can stand to be around me. I can’t even stand myself sometimes. The demons I’m battling every single day I wake up are waging war against my psyche. I have good days and bad days. On the days I win, I seal the unwanted emotions back in the box. Just like everyone else.
Truth be told, I’m furious. Not only from the fact I’ve been dealt a raw deal on so many levels, but I can’t seem to find my happy place. The one forged out of blood, sweat, and tears years ago.
My exit strategy from the military did not happen as I planned or hoped. Another major life disappointment. Honorable discharge, check. Long career and retire after twenty years of service, nope. Far from it. All cut short because some crazy-ass tyrant sought revenge.
Yes, it irks me and I’m outraged by the situation. It is what it is. Can I change it? No. Will I survive? You bet your sweet ass I will. I’m as tough as stewed skunk.
“Blondie, your appointment is in an hour. You ready?”
Damn.
Six months of healing, and I’m still at square one according to the Army’s special therapist I have been forced to visit on a weekly basis until Styx intervened. She was a relentless bitch of a woman who asked way too many questions.
I’m fine. I don’t need to rehash the shit storm that went down in Afghanistan. It’s in the past, where I want to keep it. I’ve read all the books, listened to videos. I get it, really. It’s not my fault. But I’m still angry. Being a nurse in the Army, I witnessed many soldiers go through a trauma and recover just great.
During the final visit I had with the psycho-therapist, Styx lost his ever-loving shit. The woman was combative to a point that had us questioning her professionalism and sanity. He found a new Army-approved psychologist. Today is the first session.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I yawn and stretch my waking limbs.
“Remember what I told you. She isn’t the norm,” he promises, bending down to kiss my cheek.
“Sure, she isn’t.”
His eyebrow arches at my antagonistic tone.
“Are you questioning my good intentions to find someone for my woman, or are you worried about walking into the same situation you were in before with the kook therapist?”
“Neither. I just don’t feel like I need to see a fucking psychologist. It’s a waste of time and effort. I’m fine.”
“Uh huh, right. So last night when you woke up screaming ‘Stop! Please don’t hurt me!’ and beating the shit outta me, you were just fine, huh? Right as rain.”
“Well, color me stupid. Jesus, I hate it when you act so condescending. Ugh,” I snarl in frustration at his reminder. “It was just a damn dream!”
“C’mon, Vanna, we both know you ain’t okay. You’re a long way from being o-fuckin-kay. You need help, whether you wanna believe it or not. And that’s what I’m doing. Getting you fucking help!”
“What? Fuck you, Styx. I can’t believe you just said that! Why are you being so mean to me? What did I ever do to you?”
“Oh, blondie.” He shakes his head, disappointment lacing his tone. “This ain’t me being mean. I promise you, you’ll never be privy to that side. This is just me, helping my stubborn-ass woman. Up and at ‘em, sweet cheeks. Get your ass up outta bed, dressed, and in the car by zero nine hundred, or we’ll be late. And your ass will be the one paying for it later.”
He hands me a piping-hot cup of coffee and leaves. I hear water running and realize he’s taking a shower first. I sip the hot beverage slowly, dreading the upcoming meeting. Why he believes this new shrink can help me is beyond me. I just want to forget and move on.
I don’t want to relive the mistake of letting my guard down. The feeling of something pulling me under the water where I can’t breathe, screaming for the person right in front of me to help pull me to safety, only to become fully aware I’m awake and it’s really happening.
“Why’s your fine ass still lying in bed, baby?” Styx’s gruff tone jolts me back to the here and now. He’s standing there dripping wet with a white towel wrapped around his torso, covering up all that fineness I love to adore.
“God bless it. Don’t you look finer than a frog hair split four ways. I was finishing my coffee. Thank ya very much,” I say and throw the covers to the side, attempting to lighten the air from earlier. “Did ya leave me any hot water?”
He stops me when I approach, and his fingers weave into my shoulder-length hair. Its length hasn’t been cut since we returned from overseas. Subconsciously, the true reason hasn’t been dealt with, because I haven’t come to terms with my feelings for Styx. My mind and heart both crave his nearness. He’s not only my rock and keeps me grounded, he’s so much more.
“I understand your reservations, blondie. Just promise me you’ll give her a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Yeah, Styx. I’ll keep an open mind. Gonna go grab a quick shower. I’ll meet ya downstairs.”
“I’ll have ya a to-go cup ready.”