by Marie Force
And then I’m back to not going. For this minute, anyway.
Dawn peeks through the buildings that make up our neighborhood, a place where I’ve felt safe to get comfortable and start over. Where will John be comfortable now? Where will he start over?
God, I have to see him, even if it’s not in my best interest. I need to know he’s all right and that he’ll be all right. How will I ever have any peace to call my own until I reckon with the past?
I’m standing in front of the big windows that look toward the Hudson and New Jersey in the distance when Eric joins me, placing his hands on my shoulders and his chin on my head.
“Did you sleep at all?” he asks.
“No. You?”
“Not much. What’re you thinking?”
“That I have to see him, even though I probably shouldn’t.”
After a long pause, he says, “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
* * *
Three hours later, Eric and I are loaded onto a sleek military jet and preparing to depart from Teterboro. We’ve been treated like VIPs, which is somewhat surprising. I say as much to Muncie, who jumped into action as soon as Eric called him this morning. I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger, so Eric took care of that as well as letting Trevor know I’ll be out of work and notifying our closest friends of where we’re going and why.
“You are VIPs,” Muncie says. “The Navy has instructed me to see to whatever Captain West needs.”
Before I can process that information or the fact that one of Captain West’s needs is me, my phone chimes with a text from Miles. You are in my thoughts as you make this difficult journey. Whatever happens, you have my love and support.
His words bring tears to my eyes, but then again, everything does. My emotions are so raw that when Eric made coffee for me, his unwavering kindness nearly made me cry. He can tell I’m on the razor’s edge between holding it together and falling apart.
When the pilot announces we’re next for takeoff, Eric takes my hand and holds on tight. As we lift into the air, I’d give anything to be on my way to work. There is so much to be said for a boring, routine day in which nothing out of the ordinary happens.
I no sooner have that thought than I immediately feel selfish. So many people, including my dear friend Miles, would give anything to be able to see the people they lost on the ship as well as the military members who’ve died fighting Al Khad’s organization. I recall the sales clerk at Bloomingdale’s, and how she touched the pin on her lapel that she wears in honor of her late parents. I think of Dawkins and his tireless pursuit of justice on behalf of his daughter and son-in-law.
What they wouldn’t give for the chance I’ve been given. I have no right to be undone by the opportunity to see John. I need to celebrate it for the blessing that it is and take this moment to celebrate the great victory John helped to achieve for our country as well as those who lost loved ones on the ship and in the war.
I’ve nearly got myself convinced that it’ll all be fine. That I’ll be able to see him, talk to him, get answers to my many questions, thank him, maybe hug him and then go on with my life—my new life, the one I was forced to create for myself after he left and never came back.
Eric is so tense, his body is rigid in the seat next to mine. He stares straight ahead without blinking while chewing on the inside of his cheek, something he does when he has a lot on his mind.
I touch his face to let him know he’s doing it, and he offers a small smile of gratitude. It always hurts after he does it, but he says he doesn’t know he’s doing it until it hurts. I don’t want him to hurt, and this roller coaster I’ve been on since the night Al Khad was captured has hurt him. It’s filled him with insecurities and concerns about me and our relationship—and I hate that for him. I hate it for both of us, but mostly I hate it for him.
I want him to feel confident about me. We’re planning our wedding. This should be the happiest time of our lives, but here we are on a plane flying three thousand miles to confront my past. It’s too much to ask of anyone, especially someone who’s survived what he has.
“I hate that this is happening now,” I whisper so only he will hear.
“What do you mean?”
“This is supposed to be a happy time for us.”
He touches his index finger to my cheek. “I’m happy to be wherever you are.”
“You always know what to say to me.”
“Because I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I know you do, babe,” he says, sighing as he rests his head against the seat.
“Will you tell me how you’re feeling? The truth?”
“I’m kinda tired after a restless night.”
“And?”
“That’s about it.”
Across the aisle from us, Muncie is wearing headphones and has his eyes closed, but I keep my voice down anyway. “Tell me the truth.”
He’s quiet for a long time, but I never look away. “What do you want me to say? That I’m freaking out over the thought of you taking one look at him and forgetting about me? Because I’d never add to your burden by admitting something like that.”
I blink back more goddamned tears. “That’s not going to happen.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s not what I want.” I squeeze his hand. “I have what I want right here.”
“I hope you still feel that way after you see him.”
“I will, Eric.” After hearing his concerns, I want to tell the pilot to turn the plane around and take us home.
* * *
JOHN
She’s coming.
Muncie woke me before dawn with the news that he is bringing her to me today. I don’t know what changed between yesterday and today, but I don’t care about anything other than seeing Ava.
I’ve already showered and shaved, and I’m waiting for one of the nurses to come help me with my uniform. I can do most of it myself, but I need help with the prosthetic and my pants, which makes me crazy. I never pictured a scenario in which I’d need someone’s help to get my pants on, but that’s my reality. For now, anyway.
The act of bathing leaves me exhausted. With hours to wait until someone from my unit will come drive me to the hotel where I’ll meet Ava, I move to the recliner chair and try to relax so my muscles will stop trembling so violently. I don’t want her to see me as sick or feeble. I want her to see the strong, steady warrior who helped capture the world’s most wanted man.
I’m so excited that I don’t expect to sleep, but I doze off anyway and awake when the nurse I asked to help me comes into the room.
“Heard you’re getting out of here for a while today,” she says.
Her name is Hailey, and she’s my favorite among the nurses because she never treats me like I’m less than I used to be. Her matter-of-fact approach to my situation is a welcome relief from the others, who act like I’m something special when I know I’m not. I was just a guy doing his job. I didn’t ask for notoriety or fame or any of the attention I’m getting since the video was released by Al Khad’s scumbag disciples.
I don’t want any of it. I only want Ava. I want to return to the life I had before the hell of the last six years. I want a time machine.
“Yeah,” I reply to Hailey. “Going to see my love, Ava, for the first time in six years.”
“Oh my goodness! I didn’t know you had someone special. Where’s she been while you were in here?”
“I waited to contact her until I was stronger.”
“You must be so excited to see her.”
“I am.” I don’t tell her that my Ava has a fiancé. He doesn’t exist to me. My focus is on her and only her.
“Well, let’s get you tricked out, then.” She gets the uniform that my unit sent over out of the closet and helps me into it.
For the first time, I see the fourth stripe on my sleeve and know a moment of pure pride at having achieved the rank of captain. I gaze with
pleasure at the trident that identifies me as a SEAL as well as the ribbons that tell the story of decorated service.
“I want my leg,” I tell her, my face heating with embarrassment.
“Of course you do.”
It takes about fifteen minutes that leave me further depleted, but being back in uniform does great things for my morale. This uniform saved my life in more ways than one, and I will never look at it with anything other than pride, despite how my career is ending.
I look up at her. “Could I ask you something and will you be honest?”
“Of course.”
“Do I look like hell? It’s okay. You can tell me.”
“Not at all. You look very handsome.”
“I don’t look sick or weak or…”
“None of those things. I don’t think you have any idea how invested in you we’ve all become. Not just here but the whole country is talking about you and what you did.”
“I hate that.” I shake my head. “I was just doing my job. I never signed on to be anything more.”
“You’re a national hero, Captain West. You may be a reluctant hero, but you’re a hero nonetheless.” She pauses, seeming to try to get her emotions in check. “When I think back to that day… when the ship was bombed and the sheer horror of it, I remember the poor families who lost loved ones and their terrible grief. My heart broke for them. What you and your comrades did… You got justice for them, for the people who died. We owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid.”
“Thank you,” I say, moved by her words and the passion behind them.
“Everyone in the country feels the same way I do.”
“I don’t know how to deal with that.”
“You’re going to figure it out one step at a time. The first step is seeing your Ava.” She brushes lint off my uniform jacket and takes an assessing look at me. “I think you’re ready.”
I have butterflies the size of seagulls in my stomach as she helps me into my wheelchair. “I need my crutches, too. I want her to see me standing, not sitting in this chair.”
Hailey gets the crutches and hands them to me to hold. “I’m going to check to make sure your ride is here, and then I’ll be back to get you.”
“He’d better be here,” I say of the ensign Muncie assigned to transport me. “He’s supposed to be waiting for me downstairs.”
“I’ll confirm that and be right back.”
She leaves me alone with my thoughts for a few more minutes. I close my eyes and think of Ava, going back to that first encounter outside the bathrooms in that awful bar Sanchez picked to celebrate his advancement, to the last time I saw her the day of the attack and everything in between. I recall so precisely the first time I saw her precious face. It’s a moment I’ve relived every day since I saw her last.
The two years I spent with her were the best of my life, but I have regrets, too. So many regrets, and I’ll share them with her today. She has a right to know the truth, even if it’ll kill me to say words that will break her heart—and mine.
I never should’ve gotten involved with her.
I told her things about me that weren’t true and withheld other things she had a right to know. I loved her so much that it made me selfish. I’m still selfish where she’s concerned. I don’t give a flying fuck that she has a fiancé or a new life that doesn’t include me. I want her back, and I’m prepared to fight for her as hard as I fought to find Al Khad. This fight, the fight for the love of my life, is the most important fight of all.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
JOHN
Hailey returns a few minutes later. “Ensign Bidlack is here. You ready?”
“Yeah.” I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I tuck my uniform hat under one arm and hold my crutches with the other hand.
Hailey props open the door and then comes for me, pushing my chair into a corridor lined with doctors, nurses, physical therapists and other hospital staff who break into applause at the sight of me.
Several of them are in tears as I go by.
I’m blown away. I can’t believe they did this, especially since I was a raging asshole to many of them over the last couple of months. That doesn’t seem to matter now as they give me a send-off I’ll never forget.
The sound of their applause follows me all the way to the elevators.
I look up at Hailey and catch her wiping away tears. “You did that.”
She shakes her head. “Everyone wanted to be here for you.”
“Thank you so much.” My voice is gruff with emotion. I’m like a live wire these days, experiencing so many emotions in the span of a day that I can barely process them before another day is upon me with a million new emotions. And this day promises to be the most emotional one yet.
In the lobby, we meet up with Ensign Bidlack, who shakes my hand and thanks me for my service before loading me into the handicap-accessible van. This is my life now, I think as I’m raised into the back of the van on a lift.
I immediately reject that thought. It’s my life until I get used to the prosthetic and can stand for more than a few minutes at a time. The chair is temporary, as are the crutches. My PT team tells me I’ll be able to run, ski, ride bikes and do all the things I used to before I became an amputee. It’s hard to imagine that when I’m still working on standing, but they know better than me what to expect.
On the ride to the hotel, I soak in the scenery, hungry for the sight of familiar landmarks in San Diego, the place I’ve lived longer than anywhere else in my nomadic life. Ava and San Diego are home to me.
We arrive at the Fairmont Grand Del Mar, and the memories come flooding back. We’d had to vacate our apartment for three days while it was painted, and I surprised Ava with a mini-getaway to the five-star hotel. I’m unprepared for the rush of emotions that overtake me as the Spanish details come into view, reminding me of being here with her.
Something like that never would’ve made me choke up before, but now…
“Captain?” Bidlack has the doors open. “Are you ready, sir?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” After he’s lowered me to street level, I say, “Straight to the elevators. Don’t stop for any reason.”
“Yes, sir.”
Muncie took care of checking me in under his name and instructed Bidlack to pick up the key before he came for me. I don’t want anyone to know I’m here, so I keep my eyes down and my gaze averted, hoping no one will recognize me. We get as far as the elevators when a woman gasps.
“You’re that Navy SEAL!”
“Ma’am, please give Captain West his privacy,” Bidlack says, shocking the hell out of me.
“Of course,” she says, backing off. “My apologies. Thank you for your service.”
Bidlack rolls me in, and the doors close behind me.
I look up at him. “Well done, Ensign.”
“Commander Muncie told me he’d have me demoted to seaman apprentice if I let anyone bother you.”
That makes me laugh. Good old Muncie. I owe the guy after what he’s done for me these last few days.
“He wasn’t joking,” Bidlack says earnestly. He’s so young. I don’t recall ever being that young—probably because I wasn’t.
When we arrive on the floor, he backs me out of the elevator and steers me toward the room. The suite is just like the one we had the last time we were here.
“Is this to your liking, sir?”
“Yes, thank you, Bidlack.” I point to a chair. “Let me sit there, and then stash the wheelchair in the bedroom if you would.”
“Yes, sir.”
When I’m settled in the chair with the crutches propped against the arm, he rolls the chair into the bedroom and out of sight.
Someone knocks on the door, stopping my heart. It’s not time yet. She shouldn't be here yet.
Bidlack goes to admit a room service waiter who delivers a pitcher of ice water. He brings the pitcher to the table, pours me a glass and leaves a second empty glass next to the pitcher. Tha
t’s for Ava.
Ava.
God, Ava… Hurry. Please hurry. I need to see you so badly.
“Commander Muncie thought you might appreciate the water. He said to order anything else you might want.”
“The water is good. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Not now.”
“You have my number to call when you’re ready to return to the hospital?”
“I do.”
“I’ll wait for your call, sir. And may I say while I have the chance that it’s an honor and a privilege to have met you.” He salutes and spins to leave before I can raise my arm to return the salute. I can’t remember the last time I was saluted. The courtesies we take for granted here in the States were the least of our concerns in the field.
Ava’s flight is due to land in the next few minutes. It’s a thirty-minute ride from the airport to the hotel. Muncie is supposed to text me when they land. I take my phone from my pocket and hold it in my hand, staring at it until it comes to life ten minutes later.
Landed. The fiancé is with her…
“Fuck. No.” I text him back. Please ask her to come to me alone.
I’ll do what I can.
Give me a heads-up when you’re close.
Will do.
I want to be standing when she comes into the room.
The half hour passes so slowly, I wonder if the clock is moving backward instead of forward. I stare so hard at my phone that my vision blurs. After nearly six years, the last thirty minutes are the most difficult because I know she’s close—closer to me than she’s been since the last time I saw her.
The phone lights up with a text from Muncie. Lobby. She’s coming alone.
I put the phone in my pocket and reach for the crutches, straining to pull myself up with muscles that don’t work the way they used to. Something that once would’ve been so easy now takes all my strength.
I keep most of my weight on my good leg and grasp the high back of an easy chair until I have my balance. I carefully prop the crutches on the front side of the chair, keeping them in reach. I brush the wrinkles out of my uniform as my heart pounds and my mouth goes dry.
