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Trying to keep the atmosphere light, and not like I’m crawling out of my skin wanting to touch her, I ask about her family as we finish eating.
“I’m an only child, so it was pretty lonely growing up. My parents are great though, they were always my biggest supporters. They made sure I was early to every practice and attended any and every school event that I needed to. They moved me into my college dorm with tears in their eyes.” She laughs, obviously fond of the sappy memory. We end up on the couch, appropriately spaced with one empty cushion between us.
“They were sad to see you go?” I ask, already pleased with how much it sounds like her parents love her.
“Definitely, but they were so proud of me. They still are, even though my life has turned into a dumpster fire.” She blows out a breath, drawing my eyes to her lips.
“What happened to you isn’t your fault. Things will get back on track,” I assure her, sensing she needs a little bit of optimism right now.
“I hope so. But, unfortunately, things turned bad before yesterday. I mean everything was great a few months ago, then I got restless. I felt like I needed a change, like was missing out on something in my life. That’s when I decided to move to Georgia with Mark… My ex. It turned out to be a disaster. Then I decided to leave and things just kept getting worse. It’s been one blow after another for a while now…” She trails off, her eyes downcast. “Until you,” she whispers. “You’re the one positive in all of this.” She shrugs, giving me a small smile. It nearly makes me snap. My fingers twitch, I’m aching to touch her. So, I do what any good self destructing person does, I ruin the moment.
“What did your ex do?” I don’t know why I choose right now to ask a hard hitting question, but before I can rethink it, the words are already out. Her smile instantly vanishes and I hate myself for it. This isn’t a topic I’m going to be fond of, but I can’t help myself. I need to know.
Luckily, she seems comfortable enough to talk about it with me. She explains why she left and the anger he was susceptible to. After detailing all the damages he inflicted on the apartment they shared, I made a mental note to kick his ass if I ever have the chance.
“It was the first time in my life that I truly felt unsafe. I don’t know, I guess I didn’t realize how lucky I’d been most of my life. I had a few relationships in high school and college, but even when they ended there was never any drama. They were normal, boring even. I never expected to be in that situation. I feel like such an idiot. I upturned everything all because I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere.” She wipes a tear from under her eye before it can roll down her cheek. “I still don’t know where I belong. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, my voice thick with emotion. I do know what she means. All of my life I’ve been making decisions, just trying to find my spot in this world, but never quite figuring it out. “I quit Special Forces and left the army because I needed something different. It might have been the worst fuckin’ mistake of my life.” I laugh humorlessly.
“How so?” She asks, her voice full of curiosity like we both are trying to find the answer to life tonight, sitting here on the couch together. I wish I could give her that, but I’m still clueless.
I don’t want to tell her about the death I’ve seen, or the people I’ve killed, so I keep it simple. “I miss my team. I miss having a purpose. It was miserable at times, and I witnessed terrible things. Way more bad than good, but at least I had something. I don’t know. I thought if I tried out civilian life, I’d get some clarity. Now I’m more lost than ever.” I shrug.
“Can you go back? Would you want to?” She asks, reminding me how little I’ve talked to another person about my issues. She’s too easy to talk to. It’d be easy enough to spill my guts, tell her all the dark shit that I can’t escape, but I can’t burden her with that.
“Maybe.” I watch as she curls her legs up onto the couch cushion between us, angling her body towards me, erasing some of the distance between us. It’s an innocent gesture, her body telling me that she’s interested in what I have to say. It just makes me want to pull her into my lap and never let her go. “I felt like I was drowning in the darkness that surrounded me. I wasn’t sure that I would survive another year, let alone until retirement.”
“Retirement?”
“You can retire with benefits at 38,” I admit. Saying it out loud makes me feel like a failure. All I needed to do was make it seven more years, but I gave up.
“You didn’t have anyone to lean on? No one to throw you a life vest when it got really bad?” Her eyes look achingly sad on my behalf. Her concern is so real, her empathy for me so raw, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Maybe this is what I was missing all these years. Someone in my life to grab onto when I felt like my head was going underwater.
I’ve lived so stubbornly alone, that I didn’t realize it was the thing that was killing me. It seems unfair now, to receive a beacon of light when it’s too late. Callie would have kept me grounded, she could have saved me.
“My mom was lost in grief after my dad died. My sister…” I shake my head just thinking about the ray of sunshine that is my sister. “Thea is my baby sister. She’s so smart, so kind. I’d never bring my problems into her life. She doesn’t deserve it. She deserves nothing but happy thoughts.” I give Callie a small smile, trying to break some of the tension. Stopping myself from admitting that I feel the same way about her. She doesn’t deserve to have someone like me cast a shadow over her life.
“I’m sure they’d want to know. To help you, if you want it.” She assumes correctly.
“I know.” We sit in silence for a few minutes, thoughtfully contemplating everything that was purged between us. I’m worried that she’ll see me in a different light now. That she’ll know that I’m broken.
“Why Special Forces? Why not a different unit? Something easier,” she says with a laugh. I appreciate her attempt to stay lighthearted with her question, but it just reminds me of one of the darkest memories I have. Even though I promised to be as open as possible with her, I still hesitate to answer. I get up and grab another beer, needing more liquid courage to get through this.
Stalling, I don’t start talking until I return to the couch, trying to bolster the courage to talk about Chester. I never talk about him, not to my family, not to my friends, even though his death was the hardest I’ve ever encountered.
After taking a long drink, I tell her about him, from the beginning. I explain our friendship, talk about the bar, and how it was his goal to be in the Special Forces unit. I smile to myself at the good memories, Callie mirroring me with her own smile as I talk. Reluctantly, I tell her about the night he died.
“I never felt the same after that night. I woke up the next day and hardly recognized myself in the mirror, I don’t know if it was grief or what,” I pause to take another swig from the bottle. “Anyway, it wasn’t long after that day that I applied for the team. I wanted to fulfill Chester’s dream for him.”
I stare at the TV, lost in thought. When I finally look at Callie, she has tears in her eyes. One droplet escapes, rolling down her cheek.
“Don’t do that, don’t cry. Not for me.” I wipe the tear away with my thumb.
“I’m sorry you lost your friend,” she says sweetly. So, so sweet.
“That’s one of the pictures in my closet, me and Chester,” I say, managing a small smile, not wanting her to waste any sadness on me.
She reaches over and grabs the beer bottle from my hand, taking a small drink. My eyes are glued to her lips as they press to the opening, then her tongue when she subtly licks her lips, handing the bottle back. A nice distraction from the topic we’re discussing.
