Chapter 23

Shawn

I want to tell her I love her, but I’m not sure if the words would come out properly. The world goes black for me and I enter the land of dreams.

Of course I don’t have nice dreams anymore, about the woman I love, ice cream or baseball. Oh no. In my dreams, I’m shot at, and tonight is no fucking different.

I’m not sure, but as soon as my eyelids close, I’m transported to a different time and place. I’m back in Afghanistan.

It’s so fucking hot that I can’t stand it. Wearing a uniform and carrying a pack that weighs a third of my body weight sucks, especially when it’s hot enough outside to cook an egg.

Everything’s covered in dust because it’s so dry. There’s no fucking way I could ever live in a place like this.

I’m with James and the rest of my squad in a three-story building. I hear bombs going off all around us. Some of those bombs sound so close I can feel the ground shake as they explode.

The details about what happened next are vague. I remember a bomb going off in the building where we were.

The roof collapses. Shit, I’m stuck under piles of rubble. I’m able to call out somewhat, but I hear nothing.

I yell as loud as I can. Still nothing.

I try to move and can’t. My right leg is stuck under a piece of the roof. It’s so heavy that there’s no way I can budge it.

I lie there for what seems like an eternity. I keep calling out as I hear voices around me. But they seem so far away. So close and yet far enough they can’t hear me.

I can’t yell loud enough for them to hear me. I keep trying, though.

My leg hurts so fucking bad. Again, I try to push the piece of roof off me, and I’m pissed no one hears me.

How in the hell could they be right next to me one minute and gone as soon as this happens?

I force as much air into my lungs as I can. I scream as loud as possible, hoping someone will hear me. I have no idea how much time has passed, but it feels like several hours. I lie there waiting to die. I don’t think anyone is coming for me.

A picture of a woman enters my mind. She’s so damn pretty, and she’s all mine. I can’t wait until this deployment is over so I can go home.

That is, if anyone finds me.

I yell again. The voices I’ve been hearing get closer to me. They’re speaking English, so they have to be Americans. They have to be there looking for the wounded, or maybe even the dead.

I hear someone say, “I heard someone yell over here.”

Within a minute, I feel people digging through the shit on top of me.

“I’m here,” I say. “My leg is crushed, but I’m okay.”

“We’re trying to get you out. Hold on,” someone replies.

I didn’t realize how much was on top of me until I can almost see a face. But I fucking black out before I can get a clear view of who it belonged to. I’m so pissed to know I am so close to seeing the face of the person who was about to rescue me.

I’m even more pissed when I think the face had hair color like James’s. I know he was close by when the building collapsed.

Why isn’t he buried with me? How did he get out alive and untouched when I’m buried in a fucking rubble from the building?

This doesn’t make any fucking sense. What in the hell happened to me over there? Why am I seeing James’s face rescuing me? Shouldn’t he be under the rubble, too?

So many questions race through my mind. I see that unclear face over and over.

Did James have something to do with what happened to me? Did he know I was alive and he lied to Evelyn all these years?

My heart pounds hard in my chest. Panic sets in. I can feel someone’s breath on the top of me. Panic grabs hold. I reach out with both hands and grab someone’s neck. I’m thinking my captors still have me.

I’m ready to fight for my life because I have no idea when someone will find me. I have to find a way out on my own.

The neck doesn’t feel like a man’s. It’s not big enough to be that of a man. Too skinny. And the skin is soft.

Over in Afghanistan, they use children to do some of their fighting so the neck I hold in my hands could be that of a young child.

I wake up. My heart pounds even faster.

Fuck. The neck doesn’t belong to a child. It’s Evelyn’s.

My chest feels like it’s going to explode. My heart is beating that hard. Serious panic has set in.

I see Evelyn gasping for air, and I let go.

She takes in a deep breath, coughing a little, and has a scared look on her face. No, it’s not scared—it’s more like fucking terrified.

Shit. What have I done? Have I hurt her?

No, she’s breathing and staring at me like I’m some kind of monster.

She pulls the covers up and covers her naked body. She sits on the bed and doesn’t move. She stops looking at me.

I realize how badly I could have hurt her. Maybe even strangled her. I’m so fucking scared that I’m shaking. I take deep breaths trying to calm myself down.

Neither of us says anything until we’ve caught our breaths.

“I’m sorry.” I look over at her.

Evelyn doesn’t answer me.

“Did you hear me?” I ask. I want to reach over and touch her, but I’m afraid of what she’ll say or do or both.

I give her time to answer me. When she doesn’t, I say, “I’m so sorry that I grabbed you like that. I didn’t mean to do it.”

She stares at me, like I’m some kind of fucking monster. I don’t blame her one bit.

I have no idea what got into me to nearly strangle her like that. Her stare makes me feel like shit. I don’t belong here anymore.

I jump out of bed and quickly jerk my boxers and jeans on. I grab my shoes and shirt and head downstairs. I had to get out of the bedroom as fast as I could.

At the bottom of the stairs, I put my shoes on and slip my shirt over my head. I sit down on the step a second from the bottom. I couldn’t take the way she was glaring at me anymore.

All I can think about is getting out of the fucking house. I walk to the door. Just as I put my hand on the door knob, Evelyn says, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I turn to look at her, standing about halfway down the stairs. “Absolutely fucking nothing.”

“Then, why are you leaving?” She isn’t about to give in and let me leave without playing twenty fucking questions.

“I haven’t been a part of your life for a few years now,” I begin, “so I don’t think I have to tell you shit about what I’m doing or where I’m going.”

She gives me that stare again. It’s as if she’s trying to see inside of me.

The only problem is, I don’t want her to see what’s inside me. She will never fucking understand the shit I’ve been through. Not in one million fucking years.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that.” I surprise myself at the way I’m talking to my wife, or whoever she is.

“I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on. That’s all.” She stands there in only a robe I’m sure.

A memory flashes in my head. I remember how she never wore anything under a robe. She used to tell me how she loved the way it felt on her naked body.

“Well, don’t. Okay?” I turn back around to open the front door.

“Please don’t leave,” she pleads behind me. Her voice gets louder.

I flip around to find her standing right in front of me. “I have to. I can’t stay here.”

“Why?”

“You have to ask me that after what I almost did?”

“Please, Shawn, don’t go.” I see the hurt in her eyes. She’s just gotten me back after thinking I was dead. How can I leave her again?

“You’ll never understand the shit I’ve been through.”

“I bet if you told me about it I would. You know I’m an understanding person.” Her eyes give me that loving look.

“And I’m not telling you anything about the last few years. I don’t want you to fucking know what happened. No one will.” And I mean that.

For the second time, I turn around to the front door and storm out, leaving Evelyn standing in the doorway in her robe—or so I thought.

I don’t make it halfway down the sidewalk when I hear something behind me. She grabs my left arm and stops me in my tracks.