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“Drew,” Lindsay says, her mouth against my shoulder.
“Yes?”
“How did you get through it? The distance? The darkness?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just did.”
“No. Not good enough.”
“Not good enough?”
“You don’t get to avoid my question.”
Jesus. I wasn’t kidding when I said she was a fucking warrior. It starts to really sink in that I’ve chosen a woman who has brass balls when it comes to emotional issues. She expects me to be as vulnerable as I want her to be.
That’s a tall order.
Only one person in my life gets to see that piece of me.
So I might as well show it to her.
Lindsay has earned it.
“Mostly revenge fantasies,” I admit with a shaky sigh, hating the sound coming out of me. This is my time to be strong for her. I count the little holes in the drop ceiling panels above us, ignoring the fluorescent lights. “And being trained to kill. You know – the same way most people do.”
She lets out a single laugh. “That’s not funny.”
“No. It’s not. None of this is. I got through it by realizing I was in hell and the only way to get out of hell is to walk until you find the doorway out. Having Mark as a commanding officer helped.”
“How?”
“He got it. Saw how screwed up I was. Channeled my energy.”
“And the nightmares?”
I go still. How do I answer this?
With honesty. That’s how.
“They don’t go away. They just come less often.”
She sighs, her body pressing against mine with more weight. More of the burden of just being is transferring from her to me. I take that as a sign of trust.
“How do you interact with people? I feel so...” Her voice drops off.
Tap tap tap.
She sighs before she even looks up. “Here come all the questions.”
I start to climb off the bed. She clings to me.
“Don’t go,” she whispers urgently. “I don’t want to talk to anyone but you.”
I smile. I breathe. I ignore the insistent rapping on the door.
“I wish I could lay here with you forever, Lindsay. Not now, but soon.”
Her grip on me tightens. “Promise?”
