It’s so good to hear her voice. The sweet soft sound of her saying my name, instantly relieving the ball of tension in my gut.
"Hi Cassie, I... I’m home now. I just wanted to let you... Ahem and I wanted to say I’m sorry properly. I’m sorry it took me so long to call you. Fuck, I'm sorry for everything." I stumble over my own words, rushing to get out my apology. Screwing it up completely. I take a deep breath to calm down. "Sorry, I've fucked this up. What I really want to say is, can I come and see you? I have a lot more to explain and it's hard on the phone. If you're free now or later tonight or tomorrow? Whenever you're free."
"Luke, it’s okay, I’ll come to you. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes."
Wait what? I'm completely thrown but happy too. She wants to see me.
"Sure, if that’s okay with you. I guess I’ll see you then."
"Bye, see you soon."
And before I can even say another word, the call is over. I think I’m shell-shocked. I didn’t expect her to agree to see me so quickly. I mean, I’m glad she is coming over now, but I thought I’d have more time to prepare.
Fuck, if I couldn't get words out on the phone, how the fuck am I going to do this with her pretty blue eyes on me? I seem to have spent most of my life trying to find the right words to say to Cassie.
Maybe there are no right or wrong words, there are just words needing to be spoken by me. Maybe I just need to tell her about some of the stuff swirling around in my head. Find words to stuff I haven’t said out loud to anyone.
Words telling her about my nightmares and panic attacks, so she can know all of me, not only some of me.
Words telling her how I feel about her and us. Words about my hope for our future together. If she’s willing to accept me.
All I know is I need to put it all out there on the line. This could be my last chance.
I first jump in the shower and change, then do another quick check through the apartment to make sure it’s clean and finally set out on the kitchen bench a couple of wine glasses and a bottle of red. Dimming the lamps and putting on some soft music is a bit of an old cliché. But I’m going to use all the tricks I can think of to hopefully convince Cassie I’m worth taking a chance on.
The door attendant downstairs calls to let me know she's already here. My heart is racing more than I remember it did when I repelled a hundred feet down from a Chinook. I open my apartment door, waiting for her in the hall.
The elevator doors open, and she steps out. There she is, adorable in tight jeans, a thin cream jumper and sneakers. Her blonde hair falling loose around her face. So beautiful, and all I want is to be able to call her mine.
She walks toward me, her expression neutral, impossible to read. I take her hand, kissing her lightly on the cheek, grateful that she doesn't resist me.
As much as I want to wrap my arms around her and kiss her into tomorrow, we need to talk first.
She allows me to lead her into my apartment. “Would you like a glass of red wine?” I ask, breaking the silence between us.
“Sure, and maybe a glass of water too, please.”
I quickly bring the red wine and water over, placing them on the coffee table where she is sitting. I leave a gap between us as I sit down beside her on the sofa. It seems like the right thing to do till we can talk.
She takes a drink of water then says forcefully, “You really upset me Luke, dropping off the radar like you did. I trusted you again and you broke my trust." She stops as she reaches for her glass of wine with a shaky hand. I feel like she has more to say so I wait for her to unleash her anger on me. I deserve it. But instead of harsh words, she says, "Are you okay, Luke?”
Tough question. Answering as honestly as I can, I tell her, “I’m better now than I was, but it’s been a tough two weeks.”
“I was worried about you,” she says so softly I can barely hear.
“I’m sorry I worried you and upset you.” Then needing desperately to tell her about my issues, I take her hand in mine, and I feel reassured enough to continue when she doesn’t pull away.
“The truth is I still have a lot of demons to conquer. Maybe this is something I need to learn to live with. Most of the time, they are safely locked away in my memories and only occur in the occasional nightmare. Unfortunately, when Blake told me what happened to Johno, I kind of fell apart.”
“So, the friend who died was Johno, the helicopter pilot? The same guy who saved you when you were hurt?”
Her eyes are clouded with a mixture of confusion and sadness.
“Yes, sorry, I forgot I hadn’t told you. Let me start again. Johno was killed in a helicopter crash in Iraq two weeks ago. Blake was contacted at the office on the Monday by another friend Will, who we served with. He's currently deployed overseas. When Blake told me the news it brought back all the bad memories from before, and basically, I had a full-blown panic attack. My PTSD causes panic attacks.”
I take a sip of my wine to give me the courage to continue.
“When I get these panic attacks, I need to get away. Escape. So, I did. I’m sorry I walked away from you, or I guess to be exact, flew away. I haven’t had an attack for years, so it caught me by surprise. I flew down to Florida to stay with my friend Scotty. He was Johno’s best mate, and it felt right to be with him.”
