Remembering stuff.
Reliving a trauma.
I had enough knowledge that, with that, pieces slowly began to fall into place.
Wes had said he was in therapy. That he was “still Blake, butdifferent.”
The episode I witnessed him have at work—the way he zoned out, his racing heart, heavy breathing.
The state of his house all those months ago when he’d taken a couple of days off, and I stopped by his place—it was similar to that of a depression room.
He said he hadn’t had a nightmare “in a while,” implying there had been others, rooted in the past he was trying to forget.
Blake had PTSD.
It was something I’d wondered before, knowing the little I did about what he went through, but now I was fairly confident.
I chose my next words carefully. “Remembering what happened…over there?”
Another beat of silence. “Yeah…”
Staring at the fire’s flames, I debated my next question. I didn’t want to push him or cause discomfort, but curiosity—and the hope he’d open up—won out.
“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but…” I started quietly. He tensed beside me, shoulders drawing up, like he knew what was coming. “What happened over there…with your friend?”
I slowly tilted my head to look at him. His eyes were locked on the flames, the light from them dancing across his face, and I could see the distant look there, like he’d gone back in time. His jaw worked back and forth, and his foot began to bounce, not fast but gently, in a way that made him subtly rock, as if it were a comfort for whatever place my question had taken him to.
After several minutes of silence, just as I glanced away, convinced he wasn’t going to answer and not planning to push it further, he spoke, his voice quiet and aloof.
“There was a woman…”
I slowly looked at him again, his eyes still locked on the fire. “A woman?” I prompted, unsure what that had to do with his friend.
Blake nodded almost imperceptibly. “Another physician in my unit. She and I…we had thisthinggoing on that started right before we got deployed. It wasn’t anything official, and we were the same rank, so it wouldn’t have been a big deal if it were. When we were deployed, however, if any higher-ups had known, it would have been discouraged due to the circumstances. But we kept it going anyway, on the down low,” he explained quietly.
“Did you love her?” I don’t know why I asked—it was none of my business and it wouldn’t have mattered either way, but the question came out before I could think better of it.
He answered without hesitation. “No. I think just having that connection made being over there and so far from home easier in a way.” Blake let out a breath. “But the morning of the—of the attack…I found her with one of the other officers in our unit. Looking back, it wasn’t that big of a deal—like I said, it was purely physical between us. But again, being so far from home, we’d been gone for months at that point, and just…I don’t know, it fucked with me way more than it should have…”
He paused, jaw clenching visibly. I noticed his hand tightening on his knee, knuckles pale, but I remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
“My head was all over the place afterward, and I was distracted because of it. I was supposed to meet Noah over in the rec center later that morning…and I was in my fucking head so much, I blew him off.” I caught the break in his voice.
“Noah,” I repeated softly. “That’s your friend?”
He nodded, cleared his throat, and rubbed his hand over his mouth in an attempt to reel his emotions back in. “I was in, uh…I was in the barracks…when I heard the explosion. We were in a non-combat zone, so it took a moment to register what was happening. Then, the alarm began to sound, and people started yelling. I ran out…and that’s when I saw that they hit the rec center…”
Just before he rubbed his eyes, I saw the glisten in them, his grief raw and visible. My own eyes welled up as an ache bloomed in my chest. I instantly regretted asking him, making him feel like he had to talk about it when it was clearly so painful. I shifted, sitting up and turning my body to face him, my hand reaching down to curl around his resting in his lap.
I didn’t expect him to keep going. I got the gist of it…or so I thought.
Blake dropped his hand and avoided looking at me, his gaze fixed on the fire. The unshed tears in his eyes shimmered in the firelight, his jaw clenched tightly.
“I didn’t even think…” His voice cracked again. “I just went running. All I could think was that Noah was in there. I barely registered the others on the ground…all I could focus on was finding him. And I did...” He shook his head, the first tear slipping free, trickling down his cheek. “I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when I knelt beside him. And it was like…everything I’d ever been taught, every piece of training I had…was gone. I just fucking knelt there, looking at him, doingnothing. He was shaking...staring up at me...and I was frozen.”
My own tears were falling now, my throat tight, knowing what he went through, what he saw.
“By the time we got him into the infirmary…he was gone. They said along with his other injuries, there was too much internal bleeding…that nothing could have been done. But if I’d been faster…if I hadn’t been distracted, maybe I wouldn’t have locked up. If I—if I had fuckingbeen therewith him like I wassupposedto be…then I could have—I could have donesomething. I could have gotten him out. I could have fucking saved him,” he choked out, bowing his head. “Ishouldhave saved him.”
