Page 50 of The History in Us

“Your experience?” she inquired, slowly emphasizing the syllables of each word.

“He wants me to talk about the military, what it taught me, and then my college success. His words, not mine. He claims I’m an example of perseverance.”

“So you have to speak in front of a hundred or so strangers about your military life, but you can’t talk to me?” The hurt in her tone pinched at my chest. It wasn’t what she thought. What I’d say would be surface information. I’d speak of honor and loyalty, how proud I was of my men, and what being a part of the unit taught me. My speech would not delve into the deep horrors of what I’d seen.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s for show. Parade the crippled guy in front of donors and prey on their sympathies.”

Her mouth opened in shock, a crooked O forming on her sweet lips. “How could you say that? That isn’t true, and I don’t believe Wayne would ever do that to you.”

I sighed, wiping a hand over my face in frustration. “How did we get back to this?”

“Because you’re being hailed as a hero, and you want to act like it’s nothing.”

“It is nothing. I’m not a hero, Katie. Stop calling me that.”

“Then tell me why you aren’t.” Her voice had risen and her cheeks pinked. I’d never seen her so worked up, and the racing of my heart matched the frustration in her expression. I reached for her hand and tugged her off the couch, leaving the pizza to grow cold on the table. Leading her to my bedroom, I stopped her at the end of the bed.

“Take off your shirt.”

“What?” she gasped again, her mouth hanging wide open.

“I’m not telling you anything unless you take off your shirt.” My eyes narrowed, daring her to contradict me, knowing if she didn’t follow my command, I wouldn’t speak. I almost thought I’d like her to keep her clothes on. Surprising me, she tugged her sweater over her hair, the static crackle the only sound other than the heaving of our breaths.

“Lay on my bed, up by the pillows.” Her eyes weighed heavily on me, but she didn’t speak. Climbing on my bed, I skimmed her ass with my eyes, wishing we could forget this whole game and get to other business instead. With her watching me, I pulled off my own shirt and her eyes widened. I crawled up the bed, spreading her thighs and falling between them.

“I need to feel your heart beat.” She inhaled with surprise and her arms opened, allowing me to lie against her chest. The scruff of my jaw rough against her tender skin, I didn’t care. I needed the sound of those beats within her to steady me as I told my tale.

“It was hot as hell and we weren’t supposed to be there…

“I’d followed General Rikkers orders to a T. Get to the church, secure the perimeter, wait for the retreat. Our enemy was near, so near I could almost hear them breathing. But we didn’t expect what we’d found. The church wasn’t empty. It must have been converted to an orphanage or something because what we found were kids. Tons of kids and a few older women cowering, trying to keep them silent. The instant we entered, all hell broke loose. The kids wailed, and the women cursed us in a language we couldn’t follow. Slowly they separated, to reveal one child wrapped in explosives.”

The gasp of her breath and the increase to her heart rate told me I’d said enough. Her hands, which previously lay loosely at my shoulder blades, tightened around me. I’d been holding myself rigid, trying not to put all my weight on her, but I gave in. I collapsed on top of her, letting her surround me, and continued.

“The kids were crying and crying and crying. We didn’t know what to do at first. We needed to get them out of there. We knew the place wasn’t secure enough. Our only thought was to remove the children, get them out and down the alley as fast as we could. Murphy went to work on the kid with the bomb and Williams, Mont and I began shuffling kids out a back passage. The women still screamed at us, and Williams was losing his shit, trying to get them to be quiet. It was a total clusterfuck. We all knew the sound could alert those closest to our presence. I’d made it no more than ten feet when the church exploded.”

Katie’s arms tightened around me. She slid her body, trying to get under me, wrapping her ankles around my thighs as if she could draw me into her. My own arms gripped her back, afraid to let go. I’d never told a civilian this story. The military psychiatrist knew, and my physical therapist had hints as well as anyone who read my file. I’d given my statement too many times to count. Wayne didn’t need to know the truth, as a veteran of war himself, he had an inkling of what I’d seen.

“I couldn’t get them out,” my voice lowered. “The kids. My men. My friends.” I took a deep breath. “Something sliced my leg, the force enough to break it. I didn’t know this as I’d lost consciousness at first. The noise, the sound, I couldn’t think, and then when I woke, all I saw was the bone and the blood.” My voice hitched and Katie shushed me, her nails lightly scratching over my exposed back.

“You don’t have to tell me more.” Her voice was so weak, frail, like those children. My heart broke all over again for what I’d seen and been unable to do.

“I couldn’t save them.” My voice cracked. “I didn’t save them.” My breath hitched.

“It’s okay,” Katie whispered. “It’s okay.”

“But it’s not,” I said, burying my face into her chest. “It’s not okay. They all died, except for me. All of them. Do you know what it’s like to be the only one alive? The only one to live. I should have died with them, Katie. It shouldn’t have been me. Williams had a family. Murphy was engaged. Mont was practically a kid himself. Rikkers could have retired when the tour was over. I…I was no one. I had nothing.”

“Don’t say that,” she hushed. “Don’t say that.” She tugged me closer to her, and I clamped onto her tiny body. I couldn’t get her close enough to me, my body needing her warmth and yet shivering with cold.

“I’m not a hero, Katie. I need you to see that. Not me. The heroes died.” It was the final crack. An uncontrolled sob escaped, and I tried to cover my face completely with her flesh. Her hands gripped either side of my head, but I wouldn’t let her lift it. Tears I hadn’t shed in years traveled over her skin and her hands give in, wrapping around my skull, rubbing into my hair to soothe me.

I’m not certain how much time passed but eventually, the salty flow stopped. I wiped my cheeks over her chest, kissed above her breast and pulled back.

“I need a drink.” My voice was hoarse from silent tears and hard words.