Battlefield of the Heart

by E. A. West

  Why was he beating himself up so much over a minor incident? She reached out and gently laid her hand his arm, causing him to lift his head. “Things happen. What you did isn’t that big a deal, but I’d appreciate it if you don’t do it again. I care about you, Danny, but I’m not ready for what you apparently want.”

  He thrust his fingers into his hair then dropped his hand to his side with a sigh. “What I want—” A guy came out of a nearby room, and Danny took Cindy’s hand, tugging her toward the door of his room. “Let’s talk in here. I promise all I’m going to do is talk.”

  She followed him without hesitation. He might have gotten a little too passionate upstairs, but she still trusted him not to hurt her. She moved to the center of the floor and turned to face him, noticing a couple of prescription bottles beside his camera on one of the desks. He closed the door but didn’t move any closer to her as he spoke quietly.

  “What I want is to feel. I’m numb to everything most of the time, and I want to remember what it’s like to care, to share an emotional connection with someone. You make me feel, Cindy. When I’m with you, I don’t want to leave.” He took a step toward her. “You make me feel like a man again instead of an empty shell.”

  Her eyes misted over as she saw his despair. How could she have missed how miserable he was?

  Danny lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “Don’t cry, Cindy. Please don’t cry.”

  She crossed the distance to him and wrapped him in a hug. He held her close as she spoke softly. “The tears are for you. I had no idea.”

  “Most people don’t.” His voice was raw with emotion. “I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid it might scare you off.”

  She leaned back to look him in the eye. “It doesn’t scare me off, but it does make me worry about you. Have you talked to a professional about not feeling anything?”

  He nodded and released her. “I’m on medication that’s supposed to help with the depression, and I see a counselor every couple of weeks. I should go more often, but they can’t fit me into their schedules.”

  Cindy prayed for wisdom. The thought on her mind might help him, but it might give her more information about what he was going through than she wanted. He looked so uncertain her heart broke. She had to try to help him, whatever the consequences. “Danny, will you talk to me? I’m not a counselor, but I’ll listen.”

  “You don’t know what you’re volunteering for.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I’m dealing with a lot.”

  “I know you are.” She prayed for the words to convince him she wanted to help. “But if this relationship is going to go anywhere past where it is now, you’ve got to talk to me. I’m sure there are a lot of things you haven’t told me about, and I have no doubt there are some things you will never tell me. But I can’t be a good girlfriend and support you if I don’t know what’s going on with you.”

  “Cindy…”

  She stepped over to his desk and picked up one of the prescription bottles. A quick glance revealed his name on the label, and she held it up as she turned toward him. “You never even told me you’re on medication until just now. I’m sure hearing what you dealt with in Iraq and Afghanistan — and what you’re dealing with now because of it — won’t be easy. But I seriously doubt it’ll be any harder than barely knowing the man I’m dating. Most of what you’ve told me is about your life before the army and your life since getting out. That leaves a six-and-a-half-year gap in which a lot of things happened to make you who you are now. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to have you shut me out of the part of your life that had such a deep impact on you?”

  Danny stayed quiet so long she worried she’d pushed too far. Finally, he spoke in a low tone, his gaze more haunted than she’d ever seen it. “You want to know what I dealt with? Death, suffering, terrorism. One of the many things that keeps me awake at night is knowing I killed an innocent child. I will never forget the face of that boy. We were on patrol in an area where there’d been a lot of sniper attacks, and we saw what looked like a rifle barrel sticking out of a window. There was a shadow of a person behind it. I took care of it. Then we went into the house to make sure there were no other snipers. When we got to that room, there was a boy lying on the floor, dead because of my bullets. He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven. The part that really hurts is that he didn’t even have a gun. It was a stick. I shot a kid with a stick!”

  He lowered his head to his hands as he began to sob. The broken sound tore through Cindy’s heart. Oh, Lord, comfort him. His pain and remorse were so tangible that she briefly regretted pushing him. But it had been necessary to get him to talk to her, and talking about what had traumatized him was the only way he even had a chance of recovering. She returned the prescription bottle to his desk, crossed the room, and wrapped her arms around him. He clung to her as he drew in deep, shuddering breaths.

  “It was an accident,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself and your fellow soldiers. If it had been a sniper and you’d hesitated even a second, you might not be here now.”

  “There was an investigation,” he said, his voice hoarse. “The army cleared me of any wrongdoing. So did the Iraqi government. But it didn’t give that boy back to his family.”

  How could she help him absolve himself of guilt so he could move on with his life? She’d known he was haunted by horrible things, but she’d never expected something like this. What else had he endured in the course of serving his country? She continued to hold him, willing him to feel how much she cared, until he quit shuddering. He stepped back and looked at her with red-rimmed eyes.

  “Do you want to date a child killer?”

  Cindy framed his face with her hands and spoke firmly as she looked him in the eye. “You are not a child killer. That boy’s death was a mistake. Nobody holds you responsible for it.”

  Danny closed his eyes, his features filled with anguish. “I hold myself responsible. I even tried to send his family some money to help them out, but no one would tell me where to send it. I ended up giving it to a charity that helps kids orphaned by the war.”

  She blinked back tears and stroked his cheek with her thumb. “That’s the man I’m dating. Generous, doing everything he can to correct his mistakes, and goodhearted. You have to forgive yourself, Danny. Accept that it was a mistake and forgive yourself.”

  He turned and walked to his bed, dropping onto the edge. Cindy sat beside him and laid her arm across his shoulders. They sat quietly for a few minutes, and then he began to talk. She found herself wiping away tears as she listened to his pain-filled words describing things he’d witnessed and done. Seeing friends killed and civilians blown up, terrifying women and children while searching for insurgents, killing to protect himself and others… She had no idea how he’d kept all of this hidden from her for so long, although it explained why he suffered so much even now, a year after returning home from his last deployment.

  When he got up to take his prescriptions, which he told her were an antidepressant and a mood stabilizer, she stretched out on his bed. It was late and she was tired, but he still seemed interested in telling her about what had made him the man he was.

  Danny sat down beside her. “You don’t have to stay.”

  Cindy smiled and grasped his hand. “You’re not done talking.”

  “I have six and a half years’ worth of stuff to talk about,” he said with a heavy sigh. “It’ll be a while before I’m done talking about all of it.”

  “And I want to be here as long as you need someone to listen.”

  She started to sit up, but he leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss. “Lie down. I can tell you’re tired. You have no idea how special I feel knowing you’re staying up for me.”

  “You are special.” She settled onto his pillow. “Now, finish telling me about that patrol.”

  He untied her sneakers and pulled them off as he talked. Cindy didn’t know if it was b
ecause he didn’t want her shoes on his bed or some other reason, but she didn’t mind. Having her shoes off felt too good. Once he set her sneakers on the floor, he leaned back against the wall and laid her legs across his lap.

  His gaze was on the dark window across the room, but he had a faraway expression that made her wonder if he even saw the dorm room or if he saw the narrow street in Kirkuk he was telling her about. Danny’s quiet voice filled the air with the tale of an ill-fated patrol, and then he drifted into silence. Cindy looked up at him and found him staring across the room, apparently lost in his memories. She decided to wait for another day to ask him to talk. After tonight, she had a feeling he’d be more willing to share what he had on his mind without her needing to push him.

  As the silence stretched and his warmth seeped into her legs, it became more difficult to keep her eyes open. Although she fought to stay alert on the off chance he wanted to talk some more, she soon dozed off.

  Something brushed Cindy’s cheek, and she opened her eyes to see Danny sitting beside her. He smiled and stroked her cheek again.

  “You’re beautiful when you sleep, but you ought to go up to your own room.”

  She shifted and stretched a little. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He stood and glanced at the other bed in the room. “I’ll walk you upstairs.”

  She looked toward the other bed as she sat up. Danny’s roommate was wrapped up in a blanket and appeared to be out cold. “How long was I asleep?”

  “About an hour. I thought about waking you earlier, but you looked so comfortable.”

  Cindy nodded and retrieved her sneakers from the floor. She briefly considered putting them on but decided not to bother; she’d just take them off again in a couple of minutes, anyway. Danny held the door for her and walked quietly beside her to the stairwell. He still hadn’t said anything by the time they reached her room, and she turned toward him.

  He shifted his weight and met her gaze before she could say anything. “Cindy, are you okay after hearing all that stuff?”

  “I’m fine.” She laid her hand on his arm, noting the shadow in his eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”

  Danny stepped close and slid his arms around her. “Just knowing you’re willing to listen helps more than I believed possible.”

  She leaned against him, relishing the warmth of his embrace, then she turned to unlock her door. “Good night, Danny.”

  “Night, Cindy,” he said and headed for the stairs.

  She stepped into her dark room. The shadow on Leann’s bed indicated her roommate was already asleep. Cindy shut the door with a barely audible click and changed into her pajamas without bothering to turn on a light. Once in bed, she grabbed her fluffy duck and clutched it to her chest as she closed her eyes. She might be fine after hearing Danny’s memories, but knowing what he suffered with every day made her want to cry. He’d been through so much, and she’d heard only a tiny part of it tonight.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cindy awoke with her thoughts on Danny. Had he slept last night? Was he still okay this morning, or had talking so much depressed him? She quickly dressed and headed down to his room, planning to use a breakfast invitation as cover for her showing up without warning. Besides, she really did want to share breakfast with him, even if he was fine — especially if he was fine. They ate a lot of meals together, which she enjoyed despite her suspicion it was so he’d eat regularly.

  Danny answered her knock and stepped back to let her in, then he lifted his cell phone to his ear. “Okay, I’m back.”

  “Should I come back later?” Cindy whispered, indicating the phone.

  He shook his head and guided her into his room, closing the door behind her. “Yeah, I know. But have you tried to get in often for any reason? I’m lucky to get in every couple of weeks. Twice a week is never going to happen.”

  She plopped onto his desk chair and watched him pace.

  “Look, if you can work a miracle and get me in that often, I’ll go. Right now, my girlfriend is here.” He combed his fingers through his hair then rubbed the back of his neck. “About a month.” Another pause. “I told her some stuff last night, and she knows about the PTSD. She’s seen a couple of flashbacks already.”

  Cindy raised her eyebrows. There was something odd about this phone call.

  “Hold on.” Danny lowered his phone and sighed. “My caseworker wants to know if you’d be willing to talk to him. He talks to my parents since they’re family; he thinks my dating you for a month makes you count as close enough to family.”

  She wasn’t sure what to think and voiced the only thing on her mind. “You have a caseworker?”

  “Yeah, I’ll explain it all later.” He glanced at the phone in his hand then returned his gaze to her, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to him. He just thought you might have some questions he can answer or something like that.”

  Her mind raced. What would she ask the guy? “Um, can I think about it and maybe call him later or something? I’d kind of like to understand why you have a caseworker before I talk to him.”

  He nodded as he lifted the phone. “Okay, I’ll tell him.”

  She listened to him relay her message and give a brief explanation of why she didn’t know about the caseworker. It was basically the same reason he hadn’t told her about feeling nothing and taking medication — he didn’t want to scare her.

  After he ended his call, he sat down on the edge of his bed and turned his phone in his hands. “Sorry about that. I… needed to talk to Alan.”

  She took a seat beside him and prayed he’d explain the situation. “That’s fine. I’m just curious about why you have a caseworker and why he thinks I might have questions for him.”

  Danny sighed and tossed his phone onto the foot of his bed. “The army set me up with Alan when I was still in the hospital, not too long after I got back to the States. He helps me with whatever I need to live as normal a life as possible and acts as a counselor when I can’t reach one. He talks to my family to see if they need anything while they help me transition back into civilian life and try to help me conquer the PTSD. He’s big on helping the people closest to me know how to deal with my problems.”

  “And he wants to talk to me because we’ve been going out for a while and are obviously close,” Cindy said, the pieces clicking together.

  “Something like that. He’s a little concerned that I haven’t told him about you before now, but I didn’t want him to somehow contact you and freak you out.” He smiled and rolled his eyes. “Alan’s a nice guy, but he doesn’t seem to realize how little I tell most people.”

  “I’d be happy to talk to him at some point.” She smiled and leaned against him. “I’d hate to have him worry that he scares me.”

  He put his arm around her, tension radiating from him. “I’m glad you’re willing to talk to him. Thanks to last night, I’ve decided to let you in on the less pretty side of my life. Alan has a strong connection to that. What he was doing when you got here was trying to convince me to see a counselor twice a week. I told him some of what happened last night, and about some other stuff, and he’s worried about me.”

  She reached up and laid her hand on his smooth jaw. How long had he been up to have time to shave and carry on what sounded like a long conversation with his caseworker? “I’m worried, too, but I’m glad you’re finally talking to me.”

  Danny nodded, and she let her hand fall away as he looked down. “I hate admitting just how messed up I am and why. I can’t help feeling like the world will turn its back on me or laugh at me. Or worse, pity me. I can’t handle any of that stuff. I’m doing my best to get over everything, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.”

  “I’m sure it isn’t, but you don’t have to do it alone.” She gave him a hug then leaned back just far enough to look into his face. “So, are you going to see that counselor twice a week?”

  “Like I t
old Alan, I’ll go if he can arrange it. I’ve tried on my own to get in to a counselor more often, but no one has the time to see me more than every other week. Alan’s been known to work miracles in impossible situations, so maybe he can do something. I’ll find out soon enough.” He smiled and gave her a quick kiss. “Now, did you come to see me for a particular reason or just because you could?”

  “I’m thinking about breakfast. If you’ve already eaten, I won’t force you to come with me, but I’d like it if you did.”

  “I haven’t eaten yet.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go to the dining room downstairs. I’m starving, and I don’t want to walk across campus for food.”

  They headed into the hall, and Cindy stopped Danny before he could close his door. “Shouldn’t you grab your cell phone?”

  He shut the door and grinned. “If anyone wants to talk to me, they can leave a voicemail or call me later. I’d rather not risk my phone ringing in the middle of breakfast.”

  She laughed as they turned toward the stairwell. “Don’t want to have your scrambled eggs interrupted?”

  “I don’t care about the eggs.” He laced his fingers with hers. “I don’t want my time with you interrupted.”

  She met his warm gaze and melted. No matter how big or numerous his problems, Danny was one of the best men she’d ever met. It scared her a little, to fall so hard for a guy with psychological problems, but she couldn’t imagine her life without Danny. She’d grown too close to him and cared too much about him.

  He paused before opening the stairwell door. “What are you thinking?”

  “That you’re a sweetie in a flimsy disguise.”

  Danny laughed and shook his head. “I think you’re the only person I’d let get away with a statement like that.”

  Cindy gave him a smile loaded with innocence. “That’s why I said it.”

  He grabbed her for a quick kiss, then he released her and opened the door. “Let’s go get breakfast.”