Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Levi
Life sucks. You try to do the right thing, and it all goes to shit.
I tried to serve my country and ended up getting my men killed in a mission that accomplished nothing.
I married the love of my life, and now I might be worse than useless for her.
I tried to save my best buddy’s life and almost got him killed too. He probably hates me for it.
It’s all my fault. My parents are going to be so disappointed in me. I love them so much. I’ve tried to be a man they could be proud of.
This is the way my mind goes—day in and day out. Rationally, I understand there are reasons these things happened that are beyond my control, but not everything. I didn’t plant bombs or purposely lead my squad into what turned out to be a slaughter. We had intelligence that we’d be able to liberate hostages, so we infiltrated the area with caution and high hopes. We wanted so badly to accomplish something good, but my people were mowed down and bombed instead. Our soldiers were trying to protect the perimeter while my special team went in with me to grab the prisoners, and immediately it became obvious that we were trapped. There were no hostages, just gunfire and a huge explosion. I can’t hear too well out of my right ear now. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
The mission was such an epic failure, I’m not even allowed to discuss it. I acted on orders, but somewhere along the chain of command, the information was either intercepted or pure crap from the get-go. That knowledge won’t bring back all the brave soldiers who died that day.
I can’t sleep at night. I can’t walk or even sit up. I can’t even take a decent piss. I can’t stand myself.
I hear the door open, and it’s the one person I love more than life itself. My beautiful Brooke came all the way from Kentucky to see me in Bethesda. I’m so sick of myself, I can barely face her. She looks up and down my body with tears streaming down her cheeks—no doubt checking to see if I’m all here, and then she smiles. Why? My voice sounds shattered even to me when I croak out, “Brooke.”
She rushes toward the bed. She probably senses what a wreck I am. When she gets close enough, she leans in and puts her hands on my face. I want to reach out to her, but I feel so unworthy. I’m a mess. I can’t help it though. Without consciously willing them to, my arms wrap around her, and I hold onto her for dear life. It’s more than a little awkward with my arm connected to an IV and a bunch of monitors. At least the bruises on my chest aren’t painful anymore.
Now she’s kissing me and hugging me and telling me, “I’m so happy to see you, Levi. It’s wonderful you’re going to be okay! I’m not sure what treatment you had, but they said your surgeries were successful.”
Who is she kidding? I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.
I turn my face away. Fuck, I love this woman. She could do so much better than me. “I should send you away,” I tell her. “I’m no good for you. You need someone who’s whole. But I love you too much to make you leave.” I turn back to her. “Don’t leave me, Brooke. Please?” A blasted tear rolls out of my eye, and I feel like a stupid wuss as I stare into her silvery blue eyes. She’s always been striking with her dark hair, pale eyes, and those full lips I’ve dreamed about night after night. She’s the most stunning creature I’ve ever imagined—tall and lithe with all the right curvature, and I feel so selfish for wanting to keep her instead of setting her free like a better man would do.
Before Brooke can answer me, a doc knocks once and enters the room with a brisk step. He’s smiling as he looks at us. “Ah, Mrs. Spencer, I presume?” he asks.
Brooke straightens up and answers, “Yes, I’m Levi’s wife, Brooke Spencer.” She shakes his hand politely as he introduces himself as Dr. Winslow.
“Sergeant Spencer, I’m sure you’re still exhausted from your long trip here, but you’re doing quite well, I’m happy to report. I just reviewed the X-rays from this morning, and we can see evidence already that the bone fragments are beginning to knit together just as we’d hoped.” He looks at Brooke and then at me and continues, “Once we can get you started on a physical therapy regimen, you’ll be back walking in no time.”
“Would you mind explaining a little about his injury, Dr. Winslow?” my wife asks. I’m embarrassed to say I haven’t told her anything myself. I know I should have written to her or called before this, but I didn’t know what to say. At first, I was afraid of losing my leg or getting stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I saw so many horrendous injuries when I was in the hospital in Germany. At least all of my limbs are still attached, and I can see. That made me happy for a little while…but then I realized that my body wasn’t working the way it used to, and I worried myself sick about Brooke’s reaction. I didn’t have a clue what to tell her, so I took the coward’s way out and stayed silent. One more reason she ought to turn tail and run.
Dr. Winslow looks at me questioningly, so I nod to him and say, “Tell her.” Someone has to break the news to her that her husband is useless. I can’t find the words. Anyway, she can probably see the bag I’m pissing into and can figure out some of it herself.
Brooke scoots a chair close to my bed, sits, and grabs my hand. She looks at the doctor with her shoulders straight and posture erect. She’s bracing herself—I can tell.
“There isn’t a lot more to tell, actually. The surgeons in Germany removed the bullet that shattered his pelvis and had to do some repair work to veins and muscles. It’s going to look rough for a while, and there will be a certain amount of swelling around the nerves. However, Levi was lucky, and the bullet missed his important parts. That’s always a worry in pelvic wounds. But, as I said, the bone is beginning to heal nicely as evidenced by calcium deposits we see in the X-rays. He’s a healthy young man and should make an excellent recovery. I’m glad to report this kind of result because we often have such drastic, life-changing things happen to our brave young soldiers.”
Brooke clears her throat and asks in a small voice that grows in volume as she speaks, “So…we shouldn’t expect any alteration to our normal…uh…activities…eventually?”
“You mean can he eat normally and have sex, right? Just to be clear.”
“Well, yes.” She’s blushing. “Those things.”
“He luckily didn’t have any major damage to his intestines or other organs. So don’t worry, he won’t need to poop in a bag, and we’ll get rid of the catheter as soon as he’s ambulatory. As far as sex goes, it isn’t going to happen right away. I’m sure there is significant pain right now, and his muscles will need to restore to their previous strength, but his penis and testicles will work just fine.”
“How long?” she asks. I can’t bring myself to look at him.
“That’s hard to say. We’ll see how he does in physical therapy. Everyone is different in how quickly they heal. I want to stress to you that the men we worry about in this regard are the ones who’ve had actual trauma to their bladder or genitals. Those men may end up unable to urinate normally or achieve an erection due to scar tissue that we can’t do much about. We also worry about ruptured intestines. That kind of injury can lead to infection quickly.”
“But not Levi?”
He smiles gently at her. “Your husband will make an excellent recovery. The lost bone and muscle will regenerate. Both of you just need to have patience. Often men with this level of injury re-enlist for another tour because they heal so well, but that’s entirely up to the two of you.” He looks at Brooke and then at me and asks, “Do you have any more questions?”
I don’t, and I sure as hell have no desire to go back into combat. I also think he’s wrong; I’m pretty sure my dick is dead. Serves me right.
“No, I’m clear about things now. Thank you.” Brooke has better manners than I have. She smiles at him as he turns to leave.
As soon as the door closes, I grit my teeth and tell her the truth. “He’s wrong.”
“What are you talking about, Levi? You’ll be out of commission for a while because of your shattered pelvis, but they were able to repair it, and you’ll get better. You’re going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that. I might never be able to…you know…perform.”
“Levi! You’re looking at the worst-case scenario. Yes, the doc explained that some men have lasting problems, but he said you had no damage there. You’ll be fine.”
“I’m not fine. I can’t feel anything.”
“Levi, honey, give it time. You’ll be back to normal. It’s not like a simple pelvic fracture—yours was shattered. You have tiny bone fragments that still need to fuse, and you have surgical trauma. I have faith. You need a little. But even if it never works, I still love you, and you’re still my husband. I’m not going anywhere.” She gives me a thoughtful look and asks, “Have you talked to a therapist?”
“No.” They offered to send one in, but I declined. I don’t need someone telling me to cheer up.
“Maybe you ought to. But listen, your parents should be here in an hour or two. They’ve also been worried sick, and your dad’s been hollering at everyone he could think of to find out anything about you. Why didn’t you contact them? Or me? Surely you had access to a phone at some point.”
Why is she being so nice to me about this? She ought to be pissed off and yelling at me because I know I should have called. I’m a loser, and she needs someone a lot better. Someone brave like my buddy Skyler. I wonder how he’s doing. I’m afraid to ask, but I know one thing for sure, if Skyler hadn’t been on top of me when the roof caved in, I’d be dead. I’m just sorry he took so much of the brunt of the collapse. He looked awful when our rescuers dragged him off of me, and I haven’t seen him since we ended up in the hospital. I should have tried harder to locate him, but I was too into my own issues, I guess. Instead of answering Brooke, my mind goes down a rabbit hole thinking about Skyler Colfax—the most amazing friend I’ve ever had—besides Brooke, of course.
She’s still talking, and I’m not listening until I hear, “Levi? Did you hear me?”
“Oh, uh. No. Sorry. Actually, my ear on this side doesn’t work as well as the other.” That’s a pretty lame excuse. It rings a lot, but it’s getting better.
She blinks and speaks up a bit. “I said I need to go rent a car and check in at the Fisher House. They have a free place for me to stay because of you being a patient here, and they’re expecting me soon. It sounds nice—with good Wi-Fi, a kitchen, and everything I’ll need to cook, if you want me to make any of your favorite foods.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Her jaw drops. Maybe that was the wrong question. I see tears in her eyes again, and she’s struggling to not cry. “What?” she whispers.
“I’m a useless asshole, and you’re planning to bring me things I like to eat. I don’t get it.”
“Levi, you’re not thinking straight. I’m guessing you’re on pain meds, and you’re probably still in a good deal of pain, so I’m going to ignore most of what you say for a while if it’s all the same to you. Your parents might be kind of emotional when they get here. This has been hard on them too, you know.”
My heart breaks a little as I watch her trying to keep it together, so I reach out to her. “I’m sorry, Brooke. I’m sorry I’ve failed everyone, and I’m sorry I scared you and my parents. It’s a lot to deal with, you know? They’re all dead .” She flinches at that word as my voice cracks. “I was in charge of them, and everyone but Skyler and I got mowed down like worthless junk. I can’t stop thinking of their loved ones now. I was responsible for them.”
“I’m sure you did everything you could to keep them safe and follow orders. It’s not in your makeup to do anything else. And I’m happy and relieved to hear that Skyler is alive. I was honestly afraid to ask.” She squeezes my hand gently. “Levi, I love you so much. I’m proud of you and know you’re not a failure. Whatever happened was not because you made a mistake. You must have had bad orders, or there was a breakdown somewhere. Were you ambushed?”
“Something like that. I can’t talk about it.”
“I’m so sorry. I know how hard you always try to do your best.”
“This was a giant fuck-up, and good men died . I’d have died too if Skyler hadn’t protected me.”
Brooke stays with me long enough to make sure I’ve calmed down some, then makes her excuse that she has an appointment at this place that’s giving her housing for a while. I wonder how long it’ll be before she gives up and goes home. I can’t stomach my own company, so I sure can’t understand how she does.