confessions
ROXANNE
His chest is still heavingbeneath mine, and neither of us says anything at first.
“Well,” he says, voice hoarse, “you are getting better and better at getting my attention.”
I chuckle and try to lift my head, but I feel boneless. “You’re lucky I didn’t break you.”
“Pretty sure you did.”
“You’re still breathing.”
“Barely.”
“I know … I think we’re in real trouble here.”
I was so sure of my answer before when Duke asked me if I was all in, but thinking about what comes “after” this moment now makes me shudder. What comes after this is separation and the gut-wrenching possibility that Duke and I can’t be together.
“We don’t have to think about it tonight,” Duke says with a yawn. I lift my head to look past him and see the clock on his nightstand. It’s almost 2 a.m.
“You need to get some rest,” I say. I can see that his eyelids are heavy, but a whimper at the door causes them to shoot back open.
“Better let him in,” I say, sitting up. “He’s been a very patient young man.”
“Poor guy,” Duke says, throwing back the covers and sliding out of bed.
I bite my lip and grin at his perfect ass until he puts his briefs back on. We get cleaned up and brush our teeth and then settled back in bed with Jameson tucked between us. I should be tired, but I’m still buzzing from the evening, and I lie curled up by Duke, watching him slowly nod off.
I’m memorizing the rise and fall of his chest, how long his eyelashes really are when his eyes are closed. The gentle rhythm of his breathing slowly lulls me to sleep.
I’m notsure how long I’ve been asleep when the bed jolts beneath me. My eyes grow wide as Duke’s body goes rigid, then thrashes, heat radiating off him like he’s part of the sun.
“No!” he cries. His head twists from side to side.
I don’t even have time to think about my pulse ticking up. Duke is having another tremor, but this time, I know what to do.
Jameson hops down off the bed as I slowly leave Duke’s side and begin to calmly call his name.
“Duke,” I say, turning on the nightstand lamp. “Duke.”
I call his name softly, but he’s still thrashing, calling out commands. I rush into the bathroom and get a cool cloth. He calls out for someone, his face twisting in anguish. I know I have to be patient.
“Wrong coordinates … it’s the wrong fucking building!” he shouts.
“Duke, you’re okay. I’m here. Duke … it’s not real. It’s just a dream.”
He’s panting, but at least he’s stopped punching the bed.
“Duke?”
Slowly he opens his eyes and sits up, grasping his chest. I approach only when I can see that he’s back with me now, in our bedroom and not fighting his endless war. He buries his face in his hands as I sit on the bed near him. I put the cloth on the back of his neck and his breathing slows.
“Roxanne?”
I wrap my arms around him, and he buries his face in my shoulder. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m here.”
What happens next, I’m not prepared for. He envelops me in his strong arms and then starts to shake uncontrollably.
