“Same reason you want to be a nurse. To help people. Make a small difference in the world. Keep civilians safe.” I swallow the growing lump in my throat. I couldn’t even keep my troops safe.
“I do like helping people. It makes me feel good. After watching the nurses with my dad when I was young, I knew I wanted to be just like them. They may not have been able to make him better, but they made his last months comfortable.”
“I’m sorry about your dad. What happened?” I hate myself for asking to cover my own tracks when I already know the answer.
“He had a heart attack at work. Never fully recovered. I think a piece of my mum died with him.” She covers her mouth with her hand as she yawns.
“I know what it’s like to lose people you love.” My stomach tightens, thinking of all the people I’ve lost over the years. Not just my own parents, but my platoon. It was my job to survey the area and make sure it was safe. But I sent a troop to their death that day.
“I’m sorry. How many people have you lost?”
“Too many.” I run a hand over my face. “And too many have died at my hand. I’m no hero, nightingale. I’m a shadow of my father, never able to live up to his memory.”
“Was your father a sergeant, too?”
“Field Marshal.” My voice cracks, remembering my hero, Samuel Carter. My father. “He was always proud of me, but he didn’t know the darkness I carry. He only saw the good. I may have risked my life to save my comrades, but I sent half of my platoon to their death that day. I still see their faces when I close my eyes.”
“You didn’t do that intentionally.” Her eyebrows pull inwards, eyes swelling with unshed tears as if she pities me.
“It was my job to survey the area. We were ambushed.” I close my eyes as the memory replays, as if it was just yesterday. Shaking my head, I push the vision aside and focus back on her.
She strokes the screen as if she can reach through the phone and caress my face. The action soothes my mind like she has a gift or healing hand, and I wish she was here for real to lay her hands on me and take away all this pain weighing heavy on my heart.
“I want you to know the real me. See me for who I am and not the hero I’m made out to be. I’ll never be able to live up to my father or people’s expectations of me.”
“I see you.” Her eyes close, then open again like she’s trying her best to stay awake. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you.”
“You’re tired. Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“We have some time left. Plus, I’m not ready for bed yet. I still have to take my makeup off.”
“I told you before, you don’t need to put makeup on for our calls.”
“I didn’t. It’s just from today.”
“Take it off while we talk.”
“It’s all right, I’ll cleanse later.”
“Why won’t you let me see you?”
“Because you won’t like what you see.”
“Why?”
She whisper-yells, “Talk about the pot calling the kettle. Why won’t you let me see you?” Her brow furrows as she chews on her lip. “What are you hiding?”
I let out a low chuckle.Oh, you know just that I’m your twisted brother-in-law that gets off on watching his little sister-in-law express her sexuality. “If you saw my face, you’d probably be disgusted.”
She sucks in a breath. “Are you disfigured? I’ve seen a lot of injuries in my line of work. Whatever it is, you can’t shock me. I promise.”
“I’m not ready to take that risk. Good night, nightingale.”
“When you’re ready, I’ll be here for you. You really don’t need to hide from me.”
“The same could be said for you.” I move the curser to the pop-up window on screen, filled with her beautiful face. “Goodnight. Get some sleep.”
“Night.”
