For the first time in a long time, I can feel more than I understand. More than I am ready for.
CHAPTER SIX
Gracie-May
“Kaden James, ah there you are mister. Found you.”
I spoke more to myself than to him.
I had just finished another 12-hour shift, raced home for a shower and to dish up the pot roast I had on for Mr. Moody who I’d found passed out in front of the television, a football game rolling on without him watching it. I scribbled a short note to explain where I was, that dinner was ready in the warmer drawer and there was beer in the fridge.I knew I shouldn't feed my husband’s addiction, but it was a lot easier than the fits which erupted when he didn’t have it.
I settled in the chair beside Kaden’s bed, my swollen feet up and pushed under the mattress. The cool of the rails was a welcome relief to my puffy hot feet.
“Googling you was very informative, Mr. James.” I spoke, even though he remained unconscious. It had often been admitted by patients in coma’s that they had heard people speaking to them.
He’d had another rough day and night rolling into yet another day and night with no change, at least he hadn’t become worse. I was losing count of the days I’d had with him. He’d passed the most critical stage - the first forty-eight hours. They’d been the worst for him, he’d fought hard to make it to where he was now. Although he remained unconscious, and in a coma, he was still with us.
He’d begun murmuring in his sleep, in the early hours of the morning which was a good sign he was on his way back to us.
˜*˜
“The doctor is coming in tomorrow morning and he will be dropping the levels of Propofol and hopefully we can bring you back to us. We’ll also be removing that beautiful designer breathing tube you have in.”
Twisting my pen between my fingers, I peered over the rim of my glasses. Nothing. No sign of movement. Maybe my humour isn't all that funny.
I had googled him after I had found nothing in his file about next of kin, someone from his life prior to the army.
The only person I had found, was a contact for a man called Brad Myres. After speaking with him, I dug a little more into the police and news reports on the internet. You would be surprised at what you find on the net. I found out Kaden’s wife had killed herself in their home, slit her wrists. It was her third attempt at ending her life and Kaden, who had been on the force at that time, was one of the responding officers. He’d been the one who had been confronted with the gruesome scene of his wife, pale and lifeless, soaked in a pool of blood on the living room floor.
Brad spoke to me about how dark Kaden became, the death of his wife broke him and he became a man no-one knew. He sought a new type of pain to drown the memory of her. The fact he’d been unable to save her weighed heavily on his mind. Despite trying for years to help, her love for liquor and self-destruction was too strong.
After a year’s bender, the taste of whiskey thick on his tongue, Kaden quit the police force and joined special forces in the army. He threw himself into the torment of training, to be the best of the best.
My body trembled with sorrow for him. The pain he must have felt, the devastation of finding her dead. The heartache he had suffered with the loss of the woman he loved despite everything.
“You know what, Kaden, you should be here. You should be living your life, finding love again. You’ve had enough hurt and heartbreak, it’s time you were given happiness.” I kept my voice calm and soft as I spoke to him. “You shouldn’t have had to feel the soul wrenching pain because you chose to love.” Tears dripped over my cheeks, I was unable to stop them. I felt an overwhelming need to hold him, to take all the pain away. “I know your pain, Kaden. I know the darkness and I know the paralyzing hurt which comes from having a lover who is lost to the taste of liquor. I know what it's like to be trapped in the embrace of their hate and destruction.”
I traced my fingers over the small scars which were dotted along his forearms. “I know the loneliness far too well, Kaden.”
My voice was barely above a murmur and I threaded my fingers through his.
“I don’t know what to do to help him, Kaden. I'm as lost now as you would have been. I can see the old person he used to be burning in his eyes, but his soul is buried in drink and memories of war. The nightmares choke us both. I don’t know how much more I can take. I try hard to remember the way we were before war took the man I loved and adored. He was innocent, thought he could cope with whatever the country asked of him, but he underestimated the devastating effect of war. He left as the love of my life and returned as an empty shell, lost in bloodshed, bullets and death. And you, Kaden, I suspect you went to war to lose the part of you which hurt beyond what you could bear. You felt compelled to put yourself in danger, hoping you would rejoin your wife in a life where there was no more pain and hurt.”
I ran my thumb over his soft war-torn skin. Tears continue to fall. My heart pinched with an unknown feeling as I gazed at him. The entire world and all the shit in my life faded. I had an overwhelming urge to kiss his lips, to take all his hurt, make him mine. That scared the fucking life out of me. I wanted more than to save Kaden James. I wanted Kaden James for myself.
˜*˜
I dropped his hand when I heard the clearing of a throat and glanced up. My eyes met the doctors, Chris gazed at me with compassion. A smile washed over my lips and I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“Don’t do it to yourself Gracie, don’t fall for a soldier you can't save.”
I squared my shoulders and sat back in the chair. “I um…. I well.”
I actually had nothing to say to that.
“Gracie, it's not your fault Ben is the way he his. We all know war fucks with you in so many ways. It’s destroying you both, but look at what you're doing here. You’re trying to satisfy your loneliness, the loss of one soldier for another soldier who has lost everything.”
“His voice is proper and cold, not happy and warm like it used to be. I think he sees more than I want him too. I think he actually sees the mess I am, that I try to hide with a smile and a over starched uniform.”
