It’s the only place I ever wanted to be.
My mind, my body was jumping from one time to another, yet, I was here in each one.
It’s real. Feels real.She'sreal. My wife. I felt her lips on my neck as we danced, her weight in my arms. Closing my mind, burning this into my memories, I screamed for this to not be a dream.
My eyelids fluttered as I attempted to open them. Everything had changed again - faded and lost.
I saw her on the edge of memories, darkness framed her, light sucked her back, away from me. Her hands desperately reached for mine to save her, to pull her back.
Fear glowed in her eyes as pain exploded through me. I tried to reach her, run to her, but my feet were lead, weighed down and heavy.
I shouted out her name. I saw her lips move, but I couldn't hear her. Then, like a glass being dropped onto a hardwood floor, she shatters into tiny pieces and falls away on the kiss of the wind. All trace of her is taken. I’m left with nothing except images locked in my mind and a pain in my chest.
Dread sank in as I fought the blanket of dark heaviness. I wanted to escape. I wanted my wife. I needed to know she was still here.
CHAPTER FOUR
Gracie-May
On the nights like this, when he was at his worst and abusive, I leave, walk away from him and his rage. Stepping out into the cool inky black of the night, I closed my eyes and allowed the sounds of the evening to wash over my clammy skin. The chill was a welcome reprieve from the hot rage which washed through me.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I walked towards the hospital, the one place that quelled the anger and soothed the pain that he inflicted on me. In me. Around me. The hot handprint stung my cheek as the cool air wafted over it.
I greeted the staff who would soon be going off shift. They smiled, used to me coming in early. Used to me coming in even on my days’ off. They knew I ate, slept and breathed my job. Even when the going became tough, and the reality of my home life was painful, it was where I was happiest. Being at the hospital freed me.
I headed straight to the Lieutenant’s bed. “How is he?” My heart plummeted at the sight of him, the pain which etched his face. His features bruised black and swollen. His eyelids flinched on hearing my voice. No-one has mentioned this happening, so I thought he did it only for me. I liked sharing something special with the unconscious Kaden James.
“He’s no worse, but he’s no better.” The afternoon nurse, good friend – Martha Simpson, handed me his file. She had a damn iPad in her hands, did no-one do anything the old-fashioned way anymore? Study the patient, watch for signs of how they’re feeling. All clues to their progress.
“You know, all of you would be lost without those things. No matter how you try to convince me, you cannot learn about a patient by googling it. You all spend far too much time on the damn things.”
“Says she who only left his bedside six hours ago.”
I rolled my eyes at her as she shut the tablet off. “I'm just a sucker for a man in uniform.”
I winked at her and she rolled her eyes before heading back to the desk.
I flicked off the harsh lights overhead, leaving only soft lighting to illuminate patients and the equipment. It was almost ten at night, obs had been done and monitors checked. Apart from Kaden, nothing was due for another two hours.
I repositioned his pillows, lifted his shoulders and moved his head slightly to the side. When I stood back, I thought he looked much more comfortable.
I dropped into the chair beside his bed and peered through the window which looked out over the army base. We were on the top floor, the third floor of the hospital, lights flickered below.
I listened to Kaden’s regular breathing, controlled by the machine alongside his bed. I felt an unnerving pull towards this man and had no idea why.
I’d again spend the night, watching, waiting for him to fall. For his body to succumb to his injuries. I had no idea how he was going to pull through.
I still hadn’t managed to locate his family and knew if he made it, he was going to need their love and support. It was strange that his army file had no next of kin recorded.
For now, I would sit by his side, willing him to come back from the darkness. Waiting for his terrified eyes to meet mine. To speak about war, guns, lost friends. I wanted him released from the nightmares he was trapped in.
As if reading my mind, he stirred, became restless. Fighting an inner battle only he could see. I stood and doused a washcloth in cool water at a nearby basin, moved the chair closer and placed the cloth over his heated forehead.
Despite the cool of the unit, sweat drips from the man. My hand slides into his, a gesture of comfort. His skin is hot, clammy. The fingers of my other hand run over his arm in an attempt to calm the demons he’s consumed by. Knowing he needs to silence his mind if he’s to have a chance of surviving.
I take his file from the end of the bed and lay it open. A photo of him in full army uniform is clipped inside. The man is gorgeous, his eyes, riveting. I wished he would wake so I could help him through his anguish. So, he could open up to me about his losses and what he had seen.
My fingers ran lightly over his picture, the man staring back at me was full of confidence in his uniform. Now, when his clothes were removed to be with the woman he loved, whoever he held close to his heart, the damage of war would be revealed.
