As I reach down to rub along my scarred calf, a snowball hits me smack in the face. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, you deserved that one, jerk,” Gianna retorts. Wiping the wetness off my face, I open my eyes to find my twin standing six feet away, fists on her hips in annoyance. “What the heck is wrong with you? Why did you start something with Ella?”
“I didn’t start anything with her. Trust me. She about booted me out of her apartment, G,” I retort.
I look down to swipe snow off my shirt, and miss the second snowball sailing at me. It slams into my chest. “Dammit, Gianna! Stop that!”
“I didn’t mean you hooked up, asshole. I meant you just had to argue with her. I told you how much she’s struggling, and you had to make it worse. Can you ever just think before you speak?”
“I think before I speak most of the time, actually. Just seems like the two of you bring out the worst in me,” I answer, noting two more snowballs at her feet. “You prepped those before coming up to me? Cruel, Gianna. What a way to treat your injured brother.”
Gianna growls as her eyes narrow. “I’m pretty sure the last time I let you play the ‘woe is me’ card was a good three years ago, Sergeant. If you think I’m falling for that shit now, you’re incredibly mistaken.”
I shrug, bending down to grab a handful of snow from behind the chair. Smashing it into a sphere, I toss it up and down a few times, while nonchalantly watching my sister. “So, you’re here to bat for Ella? Protect her name or something?”
Gianna rolls her eyes. “Please. She’s an adult. She can handle herself. She definitely doesn’t need me fighting her battles for her. I’m here because you’re my brother, and you were an absolute asshole. She didn’t ask anything the rest of us haven’t already asked of you. But I bet you bit her head off anyway.”
I frown, thinking back. Some of the afternoon is a blur. I don’tremember what the problem was with the two lights that sounded off, or how I got Oliver settled on playing with the Play-Doh. I know I shouted something, which is when Violet woke up, but I can’t remember what. But I remember Ella saying she didn’t know me at all, and I remember viciously responding by saying she broke my heart for no reason.
Ella and I rarely fought in high school. Even the first few years I was in the Army we did okay. Around the time we both turned twenty-two, things began to change. Maybe she saw that our paths seemed to be paralleling each other, rather than intersecting, or perhaps she knew, even then, that she didn’t want to move away from Eternity Springs. Whatever the case, our fighting increased, and the number of breakups did as well.
“She wants details, G,” I finally admit, looking up in the sky as I drop the snowball. Closing my eyes, I exhale deeply. “I can’t go back to that time. I don’t want to relive any of it.”
“I don’t think it’s healthy for you to bottle all of this up,” Gianna says quietly. I hear her boots smush through the snow as she approaches, and I feel her hand slip into mine. “I hate that I’m the only one who knows what you went through. You don’t even keep in touch with any of the guys from your squad, even the ones who were allowed to stay on active duty.”
“It was too painful,” I confess, my voice harsh with emotion. “I didn’t want to be discharged. I was forced out. I got the short end of the stick, and they were able to continue in active duty? It’s bullshit.”
“Leo,” Gianna whispers. “It’s not their fault that they weren’t injured. Just like it’s not your fault that you were. What about the guys who didn’t make it? Was it their fault?”
“Obviously not,” I retort, but my mind whirls with her first statement. It’s not their fault that they weren’t injured. I’ve honestly never thought of it that way. I guess I’ve been so wrapped up in what was taken from me, that I wasn’t able to look at it from any other perspective.
“Belle said you had some kind of breakthrough at the RMRRMC meeting.” The quick change of direction in Gianna’s questioning has me chuckling.
“Definitely not a breakthrough. A mortifying moment that bordered on a panic attack? Yeah. Absolutely had that.”
“Seb thought you vibed with the speaker.”
I shrug. “Seb thinks everyone vibes. He’s all hyped up on marital sex, and can’t see anything beyond rainbows and orgasms.”
Gianna smiles. “That’s probably true. But Travis thought so as well. He told me he was proud of you for showing up, but that he really hoped you’d call the guy. He’s worried about you.”
Might as well kick me when I’m down, sis. “He has no reason to worry about me. I’m fine.”
“You aren’t, Leo. You haven’t been since you were discharged. Every now and again, I see a little spark of the old Leo, and I wonder if you’re coming back.” She smiles wistfully. “But then I watch as you seem to collapse into yourself again. I’m worried, too.”
I think for a minute. I don’t want to go to a therapist. I don’t see the point in talking about feelings and trauma. I can’t change the past. Why dwell on it? I get by each day. That’s really all that matters, right?
“I think you have survivor’s guilt,” Gianna blurts out. When my eyes meet hers, I see the sheen of tears. She sniffs hard, and I know she’s trying to avoid crying. Gia is one of the strongest people I know, and she hates crying. “You’re my best friend, Leo. You’ve been with me through everything. And I can tell you’re struggling. I want you to get closure. I know you’ll tell me it’s in the past, and there’s no sense in harping on it, but what happened in Afghanistan has dulled you. Out of the two of us, you were always the quieter one. But there was a palpable energy that rippled from you. That feeling is no longer there. It’s like you’re coasting along, just waiting for each day to pass. Not living, not dying. Just here.”
“Wow. That’s — uh, just wow,” I breathe. She basicallydescribed me exactly as I feel. Just here. I know I’m different today than I was years ago. Experiencing half of my squad dying impacted me more than I could have ever thought possible. I knew their names. Their wives and kids names. I knew what dreams each guy had for their future. Danielson wanted to open up a food truck with his dad. Brown intended to get a degree in education. Hepp was so excited about the birth of his first child, a daughter, and showed me ultrasound pictures almost every day.
Even if I’d been completely unharmed that day, I would have still come home a shell of my former self. In some ways, I was pissed that the Army dropped me as soon as it was clear I wouldn’t have full use of my leg. But in others, I was relieved. I’m not sure I could have emotionally survived another deployment where we lost soldiers.
But, God, I’m angry. So fucking angry. Furious that my leg aches all the time, and sometimes my brain doesn’t work like it should. Devastated that Hepp never met his daughter, and that she’ll grow up never truly knowing what an amazing man he was. I’m pissed as hell that we got blown up for nothing to even happen over there. So many lives lost for no true reason, because Afghanistan remains the same today as it was when this war started over two decades ago.
“Maybe you’re right,” I finally rasp, my voice cracking as I clear my throat. I rub my forehead, aware of a general ache beginning, and know I’ll have a full-blown migraine before long. “I’ll call the guy.”
“Do it right now,” she commands. When I raise an eyebrow at her, she gives me a half smile. “I know you, Leo. You’ll push it off until I bother you again about it. So do it now.”
