I reach out my hand, gently cupping her face and wipe the tear away with my thumb. Her eyes close as she sinks into my touch. This woman still takes my breath away.
I swallow down the lump in my throat again and say, “I’m sorry.” I have no other words.
Cassie leans out of my reach, swipes her hands quickly across her face, and stands. “I have to go.”
As she goes to pick up her bag from the bar, I reach for her noticing how much she trembles. “Cass, please stay.”
She looks down at my hand resting on hers. I tense the second I realize she has registered the burn scar twisting the skin on my left hand.
Cassie’s eyes quickly dart to mine. Her brow creases, her mouth agape, but before she can ask, my words tumble out rapidly, filling the void. “I was injured on my third tour of duty in Afghanistan.”
To my own ears, my voice sounds stilted, robotic. Drained of all emotion. Silently she traces her finger gently over the scarred ridges on my hand.
But too quickly she removes her hand. “I can’t do this. It’s too much.” Then picking up her bag, she turns and walks away. I want to jump up and shout stay again.
Instead I watch paralyzed as she leaves the bar, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.
Shit! I’ve fucked it up again, and maybe this time there are no more second chances to say sorry. I feel powerless wondering if I will ever see her again.
Not knowing what else to do, I order another double scotch, hoping to drown the pain filling my heart. Then with my head hung low I swallow down my regret with each mouthful of the dark liquid. The burn not just in my throat but deep in my gut.
What a sad lonely fucker I've become. I let the best thing in my life go when I broke up with Cassie.
And tonight, I let her walk away again.
Later during the night, the nightmare is back.
Everything glows alien green through the night vision goggles.
My heart is pounding in fear. I’m on high alert.
Maybe I will die tonight!
I’m running across open land toward the enemy.
Rounds of gunfire chasing me. I need to find cover.
There are no ditches or dried up, riverbeds to hide in. It’s too open. Only sparse undergrowth.
I hear Blake’s voice through my headset, “Take cover, Take cover.”
I need to find cover somewhere. I need to find a firing point.
The air explodes around me.
More gunfire spraying over my head. Rocks tumbling.
The smell of burning flesh. Shouting, screaming, moaning. My body falling through the air.
Shouting, I wake up. Grabbing the bed as I feel myself falling.
My heart is pounding. I’m sweating and shaking. Slowly the nightmare fades, and I come back to the here and now. My bedsheets twisted around my body. I’m safe in my apartment, I tell myself.
Damn, the nightmare is back. Not surprising as stress has always been a trigger and tonight's meeting with Cassie has left me in turmoil.
Chapter 11
Luke
