I reached across the e-brake and squeezed his hand. “Okay.”
You pushed too hard.
Once we entered the building, my Josh disappeared and Lieutenant Walker took over. He gave me a nod and disappeared into a room, the door closing behind him. Soldiers led me to an empty conference room across the hall.
I set my coffee down and pulled out my GRE study booklet and iPad. If I was going to be stuck here for hours, I may as well get some work done.
An hour later, I was bored to tears, my eyes crossing. I hadn’t tried to cram this much useless knowledge into my brain since SAT prep, and that had been years ago.
You’re the one who wanted a doctorate.
In anthropology. Was I insane? I could teach while writing. Teaching was mobile, so I could move with Josh’s career, but not successfully at the collegiate level. Are you really going to determine your career, your dreams by Josh’s?
I wanted to flick the devil off my shoulder. Of course I was going to take Josh’s career into consideration. That’s what marriage was, right? I knew he’d said he’d get out when his obligation was over, but lately he’d been hinting at doing a full twenty, just like when I’d first asked him over two years ago.
You’re commissioning. You’re going career.
Yes. That’s my plan.
But when he’d realized that it would cost him our relationship, he’d sworn that it would just be the obligation from his ROTC scholarship—that he’d get out when it was over.
I’ll resign…
I would never be responsible for you turning your back on this. I know what it means to you, what you feel your responsibility is. I won’t ever be the one who holds you down.
But what did that all mean now? Now that he was under even more years of obligation from flight school? Now that I’d adjusted to this life? Now that he’d been wounded? Seen his friends killed…again?
My cell phone rang, thankfully saving me from the downward spiral of my thoughts. Sam’s face flashed across the screen.
“Hey,” I answered.
“You sound exhausted,” she said, her voice just as weary.
“You can guess that from one word?”
“I can. How’s it going there?”
I stared at the door like I could see through it. “He’s in with the assessment team.”
“Yeah, Grayson said they’d have questions for him. Is he talking about it yet?”
“Not to me.” Shit, that came out bitchy.
“Whoa, tell me how you really feel.”
I tapped my pencil on the glass topper of the table. “I have no clue what the hell I’m doing. He’s not talking, he has nightmares, and his favorite phrase is ‘I’m fine.’”
She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“I know it’s wrong, but I almost wish I was allowed in that room, like I can’t help him if I don’t know what happened. I feel like there’s this chapter of him I don’t get access to, and it stings. I know it shouldn’t. I know he’ll talk in his own time, but I barely know what happened the first deployment. He never talks about it. And this one… God, Sam, what am I going to do if he shuts me out?”
“I can’t imagine, Ember. Just remember that he loves you, and give him some time. It’s only been a few days.”
“You’re right. I know that logically. Emotionally, well, I’m not the most rational over here.” A self-deprecating laugh slipped free.
“You have every reason to be upset. For Josh, for Jagger, for Will, and for you. I know he’s hurt. I know what he just went through is unspeakable, but this…it happened to you, too. You get to have whatever feelings you’re having. I wish I knew how to help you.”
“Me, too. I just want him to be okay.”
“I know. When do Jagger and Paisley get home?”
“Her email said tomorrow.”
“Good. You’ll have each other.”
“How is Morgan?”
Her sigh told me all I needed to know. “Breathing. Crying one minute, silent the next, mad as hell ten minutes later.”
“I’m glad you’re there with her.”
“Me, too. It almost feels like I never left, but everything is different without you guys here.” Her voice cut out for a second. “Oh, that’s Grayson. Call me if you need me, okay?”
“I will. Love you, Sam.”
“Love you, Ember.”
We hung up and I went back to studying. Another hour later the door opened, and Josh stuck his head through. He looked even paler than he had this morning, which was saying something. He was heading into Casper territory. “Hey, babe,” I said.
“You ready? We’re all finished.” His eyes looked flat, like whatever had transpired in that room had sucked the life out of them.
“Yeah.” I gathered up my things and dropped them into my messenger bag. “Where to next?” I asked him as we walked out slowly.
“Blanchfield,” he responded. The military hospital. Of course—he needed to check in with the doctors.
The hospital was huge. There was no way he was going to one-crutch it and come out the other side with a functioning left arm. It took several minutes of begging and the promise of sexual favors, but he let me put him into a wheelchair to the clinic.
“Besides,” I said, flipping through a magazine as we waited in an exam room. “It kept your leg elevated, right?”