PHYSICALLY, NOTHING HAD ever affected me the way Jude’s body had. Any question I had about what I wanted in life, any uncertainty I had about the life I’d left behind, those all flew out the window the second our bodies came together.
Even if I had wanted to, there was no turning back now.
And then when he explained the reason behind permanently altering his body, my fate was sealed. As the words tumbled from his mouth, it was as if I heard my deepest, darkest worries come to life before my eyes.
Except they weren’t only mine.
Knowing someone else had felt the same emotions I had was one thing, but knowing that person was Jude, that was something else entirely. And it was life changing.
The breath I exhaled after pulling Jude to my chest was my way of letting go of everything that had weighed me down. And the next inhale was the first real breath I had taken in years.
So when he asked, “How did you get these?” as he traced his fingertips softly over the scars on my chest, I felt no fear in answering him.
“Invading a town controlled by the Taliban. We were ordered to do a block-by-block sweep to flush out all the insurgents. About three blocks away from the end of our mission, a parade of trucks came barreling down the road. We tried our best to take cover. And some of us made it, save a few scars, and limbs.” Pressing my eyes closed as tightly as I could, I tried to black out the vivid memories flooding my head. “That was the battle where I held Jones as he died. We’d gone through basic training together.” I added the last part as if it made his death more significant. “Meeting his wife and daughter a year later was probably one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. And that’s saying a lot for someone who’s fought a war.” As his fingers stilled over the largest scar, I took another deep breath. “That’s when the depression hit real fucking hard.”
“Micah.” Pain filled his voice, and his fingers gripped my chest as if afraid my heart would beat right out of it.
“I guess it’s no secret I was in a real shitty place. Still am,” I added. Pressing my lips to the top of his head, I had a notion that maybe the worst of it was behind me. “And when I met them, I knew I’d been a selfish fuck for being pissed about my arm.”
“I think it’s natural to feel that way. I mean—”
Cutting him off, I said, “No, I get that now. I know my loss was and still is . . . it’s . . . life changing. I needed a mourning period. But at the end of the day, I was mourning a limb. Not a husband. It was all so confusing.” Jude held me tighter to his body, resting his head on my heart. “But at the end of the day, it’s what got me Sarge. And he’s been a life saver on more than one occasion.” Letting my fingers dance through his hair, I asked, “You think he’ll be okay with your dad for the night?”
“You kidding? My dad was in real good shape when we left. I’d never seen him go to bed that sober in years. Something about you and Sarge being there changed him today. I don’t know what the hell it was, but I know he’ll take care of Sarge. I can call if you want,” he rambled on, but I trusted him enough to know Sarge was safe. And I wasn’t so foolish to say one night of mind-blowing sex with Jude and I’d be cured, but I felt safe enough to get on without my dog for one night.
A few quiet moments passed between us, curling around us like the blanket draped over our bodies. In that fleeting time right before I fell asleep completely, I whispered, my lips still pressed against his soft hair, “It’s what brought me back to you. All of it. The death, the loss, the scars, the pain.”The running,I thought to myself, not brave enough yet to give voice to those demons. “I didn’t see it then and damn it all to hell if I can see it all now, but it’s starting to make sense.”
Jude’s arm tightened around my waist. “For me, too. Just having you here.” He paused, squeezing me again. “Nothing made sense before. It was all gray. Existing. Going to work, coming home to a damn empty house. And then one day you show up, and everything is color again. I didn’t realize how much I was drowning until you came back.”
With our words settling between us as if they were another body in the bed, I drifted to sleep, unafraid of the nightmares usually waiting there for me.
We’d been back at Jude’s house for four days now. At first, I found the quiet accompanying me all day a bit unnerving. But right now, as I sat on the couch in my underwear, mindlessly flipping through the channels, Sarge resting his head on my lap, saying I enjoyed being alone was a huge motherfucking understatement.
As comfortable as I’d felt being here, when the phone rang, I always let it go to voice mail. The only person I needed to talk to was Jude. And if he wanted me, he’d call on my cell phone. Or send me random dirty texts throughout the day.
But when the phone rang, and a number I instantly knew popped up on the caller ID, I had to answer. “Mr. Mac—”
“I told you. It’s George.” He cut me off before I could even say hello.
I couldn’t help but laugh at his blunt, “old man conversation” style. “Okay. George.” I bit my tongue to hold back my laughter. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine,” he spat, seemingly annoyed with me for the phone call he made.
“Okay,” I answered, dragging the word out, letting my confusion ring loud and clear. “What can I do for you then?”
Without missing a beat, he said, “My son’s an ass.” At that comment, I spat the sip of water I’d just taken out of my mouth, sending Sarge into high alert. Thinking I’d choked, he began barking.
Resting the phone in the crook of my neck using my shoulder, I reached down and stroked Sarge’s soft fur, telling him I was okay. “Can’t say I’m sure what to do with that, sir.”
“George, dammit.” The clipped sound of his words, the booming tone made it clear he was angry, and I couldn’t figure out what the hell the call was about. One thing was certain, I’d been around him enough times when he was drunk to know what he sounded like with a twelve-pack or more flowing through his veins. And he didn’t sound like that right now. His deep breathing sounded more like frustration filtering through the line.
Hell, maybe he just wanted some company. Looking over at the clock on the cable box, I said, “It’s just before noon. I’ve got a few errands to run,” I lied. “Would you mind helping me?” I lied again. “And then we could get lunch,” I suggested, the last part not being so much of a lie. Sharing a meal with someone wouldn’t be a horrible thing, especially since Jude and I rarely ever ate anything other than a post-sex bowl of cereal after spending hours in bed after he came home from camp.
And it wasn’t like I was complaining. I couldn’t walk some mornings, but I definitely wasn’t upset about it.
“Sure,” he answered, cutting through my hazy memories of the last few nights. “I could do that. I’ll be there—”
Now it was my turn to cut him off. “With all due respect, George, I’ll come pick you up.” His agreement came with no argument, no arm-twisting.
