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“He’s very upset. We can’t seem to get him calmed down. The charge nurse, Sue, is in there now and has paged the on-call, but…I think it’s psychological rather than physical. Honestly? I think he’s having some kind of flashback.”
I suck a deep breath in and start off toward his room. “I’ll know what it is.”
Nancy trots along beside me. “He has said your name a few times.”
I burst through the door to find the room still dark. Barrett’s on his side, curled up and shaking with soft, muffled sobs.
“Barrett?” I reach his bed, then freeze. My head is spinning so hard, I almost feel dizzy. I reach out for him, my hand touching his arm. “Bear? It’s Gwenna.”
I can’t breathe as I lean there against his mattress. So surreal…
I see his shoulders shake a little, and the shock of seeing him in motion wakes me back up.
“Beary… Hey, it’s Gwen.” I squeeze his shoulder. “You all right?”
With a knot in my throat, I look behind me at the nurses, and then climb carefully up on the bed.
“I do this at home,” I murmur to them as I move in close and wrap an arm around him. He’s so thin. He’s shaking. God, my Barrett. It’s so weird to feel his body moving…
My clumsy hands sift through the sheets, feeling the smoothness of his shoulder, then his neck, his face… His throat still sports a small bandage. I stroke alongside that, the way I always used to when I’d try to wake him up.
“Bear? It’s Gwennie.” My voice cracks on my name. What if he doesn’t know it? I inhale as his head comes to rest against my shoulder. “Bear.” Tears fill my eyes. I cup his warm neck. “We’re okay…”
I can feel his face against my shoulder, feel his body pause…
His forehead tips back, eyes rising to mine. “Pig?”
A little sob slips out, mixed with a crazed laugh. “Yes.”
Bear’s arms come around me, pulling me to him. It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt.
Epilogue
BARRETT
May 28, 2016
It’s hot today, but I don’t care. Gwenna likes to hold my hand, and I like holding hers. We’ve taken Brian to the enclosure, into Piglet’s house, and now we’re walking to the open-roofed gazebo behind mine. I squeeze Gwen’s hand as Brian climbs the step and takes a seat on the wooden bench that wraps around the inside of the octagon.
Pig and I sit down across from him. Brian takes out his tiny, black recorder, and Gwenna draws my arm into her lap. Her free hand starts to stroke the inside of my forearm.
I can’t bring myself to be bothered by the PDA. Three weekends ago, we sat in Gwenna’s living room while Brian heard her side of our story. She and I sat leg-to-leg and hip-to-hip, my arm around her shoulders, while she talked for four and a half hours, taking breaks to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. As we served Brian dinner, she found small moments to peck me on the cheek and rub my hip and whisper, “Good?”
I smiled for her, just like I always try to, even when it’s not all good. Because she smiles for me. Because, now that she has my mother’s emerald on her left hand, I’ve vowed to make her life the best that it can be, to be her strength, her shield, the second heart that keeps her breathing when she can’t.
Brian’s a cool guy, and I like him. If I didn’t, or she didn’t, we wouldn’t be here. We don’t have to be. It’s not because we need the money. It’s because, if Brian does make the movie, our share of the profits and one fourth of his will go to veterans. I get to choose the charities myself.
So when Brian smiles at us, and Gwen looks at me, I take a slow, quiet breath and think about my buddy Breck. And all the guys I’ve been getting to know with the veteran’s group, the guys who will work with me in a few months, when I’m back in fighting form and the building is remodeled, and I open the doors of Freedom Martial Arts.
I give Brian a small nod.
“So we’ll do just like we did with Gwenna. Trying to get notes on you for the actor, and for me, of course.” He smiles, his glasses shifting on his face. “Let’s start off with something lighter. Tell me how you felt when you woke up that night and Gwen was there.”
I shift my eyes from Brian’s to the bench beside him. Gwen’s hand squeezes my wrist. What do I tell him? They don’t make words for it, not for something like that. The way it felt to have her arms around me, just her smell…
I inhale deeply. My throat aches.
“Surprised.” It comes out a whisper.
