Chapter 43
THE FALLOUT
ZEKE
After I heard the soft thud of the door closing when Maggie left the room, I returned to bed and laid back down on my side.
Now something entirely new bothered me. It was the first time I’d ever told Maggie how I felt and the results made the Hindenburg look like a warmup.
I never meant to say it, let alone in the heat of the moment, but it slipped out before I could think it through.
Sleep never came that night. As soon as I could get away with it, I dressed in the physical fitness uniform and headed over to the post gym.
It was a cowardly thing to do, but I wasn’t ready to see Maggie just yet.
Vulnerability felt shitty. Emotions usually eluded me and on the very first attempt to label them with her, I ruined it.
She clammed up tighter than a Venus flytrap.
I managed to get in a semi-decent workout by the time the rest of the unit showed up for training. Staff Sergeant Whittenburg approached me with both his eyebrows raised.
“Did I miss the memo about reporting at the ass crack of dawn?” he asked.
“Sorry, sir. Just have a lot on my mind.”
Whittenburg sighed. “Go home, Hayes. We don’t need you here if your attention is elsewhere.”
“But, sir, I—”
“NOW, Hayes!” the staff sergeant barked.
The coppery tang of blood coated my tongue as I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Arguing with him would only lead to more problems. “Thank you, Staff Sergeant,” I ground out.
Only once I made it outside, I turned in the direction of the medical clinic instead.
The soldier at the receptionist desk called after me as I stormed past and headed straight for Chuck’s office.
He sat in front of his computer, typing notes from the journal that lay open on the desk, but jumped up in surprise when the door slammed open behind me.
“Did you know I’m autistic?” I demanded.
Chuck clutched his chest, the faded KISS shirt he wore wrinkling in his hands. “Geez, all you had to do was knock!”
I glared at him, fists clenched at my sides.
“Yeah, man, I know you’re autistic. It’s in your medical file.
” Chuck plopped down hard in his desk chair.
What had once been a body cultivated to Army fitness standards now sported a protruding belly, long hair, and a goatee that was more salt than pepper.
He looked every inch his age as he scrubbed a hand down his face before readjusting his glasses.
“Why are you bursting in here for that?”
“Because I didn’t know that I’m autistic!” I bellowed. “No one’s ever told me that before!”
Understanding dawned and Chuck winced in sympathy. “I can’t imagine how hard that’s gotta be for you, man. I had a cancellation this morning—do you wanna talk about it?”
Talking about the diagnosis sounded about as appealing as talking to Maggie after the disaster of last night. But my options were one or the other at the moment, and at least when I talked to Chuck my heart wouldn’t shatter.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “let’s talk about it. We’ll start with everything you can see in my medical file.”
A good therapy session really helped put my diagnosis into perspective.
So many aspects of my personality clicked into place as Chuck and I discussed the symptoms of autism and what signs had always been there.
He also disclosed that in recent years the Army started allowing medical waivers for people with autism disorders.
Given that I had General Leggett as my mentor, Chuck seemed pretty confident my enlistment came under a waiver that Leggett himself cleared.
My service so far had been exemplary, and there was nothing in my personnel records that Chuck could find that made him question the continuation of my service.
Relief lifted my spirits. My career in the military wasn’t set in stone by any means, but if Maggie didn’t mind our frequent moves and separations, I saw no reason not to renew my contract within the next eighteen months when the window opened.
We could discuss it…whenever I decided talking to her didn’t make me want to dive headfirst into a pool of battery acid.
“I’m glad we were able to work through this,” Chuck said. He clapped me jovially on the shoulder as he guided me towards the door. “I’ll see you for our regular time next week, alright?”
“Thank you, sir,” I replied.
He twitched, like a shiver ran down his spine. “Don’t call me that! It’s like you think I’m old or something!” Chuck’s eyes twinkled at his own joke. “Now go home and talk to Maggie.”
I blanched. How the hell did he know about the issue with my wife?
“Kid, you practically pissed yourself every time I brought her up today,” Chuck laughed. “I might be old, but I’m not blind! Go talk to your wife!”
“It’s not always that simple.” Even my ears blazed with how hard embarrassment flooded me.
“It’s not always that hard, either.” Chuck shrugged good naturedly before shutting the door in my face.
My anxiety diminished slightly when I entered our apartment and found Maggie sleeping. Only she slept in my bed, with my pillow squashed against her face. Long hair fanned out around her like a halo.
Exhaustion slammed into me with the power of a freight train. As quickly and silently as I could, I slipped on a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants so that I could slide into bed behind her.
This was my room and my wife, after all. I had every right to sleep in one with my arms wrapped tightly around the other…even if I didn’t have the balls to talk to her. Maggie’s hair accosted my face when she snuggled in closer, needing me in sleep far more than she needed me while awake.
Minutes or hours may have gone by before she jostled the bed to turn and face me.
I slowly blinked my eyes open to gaze at her.
If I moved too quickly, it might break the spell and she might bolt.
I wanted her to stay in my arms. Even with the terror of conversation, having her close enough to smell her warm vanilla shampoo eased my anxiety. This felt like home.
“Hey, Trouble,” I finally whispered.
“Hey, baby,” she mumbled back, making my heart soar. She never used a pet name with me before. “We need to talk about last night.”
I shook my head and rolled onto my back so that I didn’t have to look at her. “No, we don’t,” I replied firmly.
Maggie scooted closer so that she could lay her head on my chest. Instinctively, my arm encircled her waist. “What you said just caught me off guard,” she explained. “I’ve never said it to anyone before. Not even Celeste. It’s a big deal.”
Swallowing hurt with the lump in my throat. “Yeah. It’s a very big deal. I’ve never said it before either.”
She sighed and drew featherlight touches along my chest. “I don’t know what I feel about anything right now, Zeke.
Ever since getting out of the hospital, it’s like I don’t even know myself anymore.
I’m trying so damn hard to do better for you.
The thought of hurting you, or scaring you again like I did, drives me crazy!
How can I tell you I love you when I don’t even know who I am? ” Maggie’s voice cracked.
Hot tears streamed down my ribcage, but that was nothing compared to the way my heart imploded. I recognized the fear and devastation in her words because they mirrored my own.
“Our promises to each other are still the same.” I spitballed out loud, just saying whatever came to mind. “Clearly now we both have things we need to work on. Neither of us really know who we are. Maybe it would be easier just to start over.”
Maggie sat up, a tentative smile on her face. “Hi there, I’m Maggie Hayes. Pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand—an olive branch as we created our new way forward.
This was the Maggie I remembered. Full of light and love, who made me feel like everything was possible. It didn’t go unnoticed that she called herself by her married name either. Hope shimmered on the horizon.
“Hi, Maggie,” I grinned. “My name is Zeke Hayes, and wouldn’t you know it, I think I might be your husband.”
Taking her proffered hand, we shook on it before her gaze traveled down the length of my naked torso. “My husband, huh? Lucky me!”