Chapter 17
“It’s been a year this month…right?”
I sat across from Nate during therapy, staring at a spot on the floor with my arms folded across my chest. Maverick was lying at my feet—Nate said I was more than welcome to bring him to his office with me for my sessions, which was a small comfort.
A damn year.
Nate said it might be part of the reason why I had been feeling so up and down. Because I was subconsciously trying to block out the anniversary of the event in the weeks leading up to it. But the closer it got, the more I felt myself start to spiral.
I started to shut everyone out again, without even realizing I was doing it at first. I hadn’t seen anyone since the wedding except Gabe.
I mainly talked to Lucas and Wes over text, and my replies grew shorter and less frequent.
I declined invitations to Tuesday trivia and Saturday nights at The Sandbar.
Usually, I blamed work or being too tired, but my brother noticed.
Gabe, sensing something was off and remembering the anniversary, put two and two together.
He asked about it more than once, but I brushed him off each time.
That only made me retreat further. I didn’t want more questions or the others getting involved.
My hypervigilance was at its peak again.
The flashbacks started back up—one moment, I was in the present, and the next, I was kneeling in the dirt of the duty station, looking down at Noah.
And they didn’t stop there. They plagued my sleep in the form of nightmares, waking me in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat with ragged breaths.
And the combination of everything was bleeding into work. Just like before. Just like I feared it would. I was able to snap myself out of it quicker than before, but that didn’t change the fact that it was happening again.
“Blake…?”
I lifted my gaze to Nate’s. “Yeah…” I cleared my throat. “A year this month.”
“And you’re struggling with it.” Not a question but a statement. I tensed my jaw. “It’s to be expected. You’re still grieving as well as working through the guilt you’re carrying…guilt that’s not meant to be yours.”
And there was his usual not-so-subtle reminder that I shouldn’t feel guilty. I’d given him some details about what happened, and even though I was vague, I didn’t understand how he could look at me and still claim that I wasn’t to blame in some way.
“You need to stop saying that.” My tone came out sharper than intended, causing Maverick to stir at my feet and sit up. He looked at me, inching as close as possible before resting his head on my thigh. I blew out a slow breath, reaching out to scratch behind his ear.
“I’m not going to stop reminding you that what happened wasn’t your fault, Blake,” Nate said gently. He took no offense to my sharp tone. “Guilt is powerful. It can consume you if you let it. You have to realize you couldn’t have prevented what happened. It was out of your control.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be in a place to believe that. Because as far as I was concerned, it wasn’t true.
My next few shifts at work didn’t get much better than the ones before. The lack of sleep, paired with everything else, was starting to fuck with my head.
It was Wednesday, and Haley was the charge nurse that shift. I was charting in the physician’s area when I heard her call out that an ambulance was en route. The patient was critical—an MVA involving an ATV.
Haley quickly prepared the bed and gathered supplies. I walked out, planning to take the patient when the ambulance bay doors slid open.
I saw the patient—his white shirt was soaked in crimson from a wound that ran from his jaw and disappeared beneath his cervical collar.
As I took a step forward, the present faded away.
Without warning, I was yanked out of the hospital and plunged into the past. There I was, kneeling in the dirt at the duty station, looking down at Noah—his horror-struck, pleading eyes were locked on mine as his trembling hand reached up and fisted the front of my uniform.
My chest tightened to a point where I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Though I was frozen, paralyzed in that memory, I was distantly aware that, in the hospital, my actual body was moving backward.
Then, I felt a gentle hand on my arm.
I sucked in a sharp breath as my surroundings came back into focus. I was back in the physician’s charting area, and there was Haley, staring up at me.
I felt her thumb brush my forearm. “Hey…” she whispered.
I looked around, letting out a few ragged breaths.
“Sit down.” She gestured to a chair, and I slowly lowered myself into it.
She crouched in front of me, sliding her hand from my forearm to my wrist, pressing two fingers against my pulse point. “Your heart is racing.”
“I’m fine.”
“Blake–”
“I’m fine, Haley,” I repeated more firmly.
I took a few deep breaths, running my clammy palms along the length of my thighs before I stood. I looked at her, and I could see the concern in her green eyes, but she said nothing else.
Dr. Wileman ended up taking the MVA patient. I stuck with the ones I already had, working with them until I took my lunch break.
I was halfway to the breakroom when I heard my name being called, and I turned to see Dr. Tomblin standing at the end of the hallway near her office. “Can I speak to you?”
“Of course,” I said, making my way toward her.
She gestured toward her open office, and I walked inside, hearing her close the door when she followed me in. “Have a seat.” I nodded, lowering myself into one of the chairs as she took the one on the other side of her desk. “I just wanted to ask how you were doing.”
I couldn’t help but feel a bout of déjà vu at that moment. “I’m alright.”
She nodded. “Listen…you told me a little about what you went through. You mentioned what you were dealing with when you left Womack…” I stiffened.
I didn’t go into detail, but I did tell her about my PTSD during my interview.
I didn’t have to, but I thought she should know in case I had an episode.
I also told her I was taking the necessary steps to manage it.
“You seem stressed lately. I just want to be sure you’re alright. ”
Her voice held no judgment, only concern. Somehow, that made me feel worse. “I’m just…dealing with some things. Nothing I won’t get through.” At least, I hoped so.
She nodded. “You know, it’s okay for you to take a couple of days off if you need to rest and regroup. I can get someone to cover your shifts.”
I held her gaze. It wasn’t an order, just a suggestion.
I could say no, since being off from work wasn’t going to help me like she thought it might.
But I remembered all the times on base when I was offered the same thing and declined.
I didn’t want to seem rude or insubordinate for refusing ‘help’ when offered.
So, I nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”
“Why don’t you take the rest of your shift today and your shift tomorrow?” she suggested. “That’ll give you your regular weekend off, and you can come back Monday, recharged and regrouped.”
Ten minutes later, I was walking out of the locker room with my bag. I saw Haley at the nurses’ station, her eyes following me as I walked by, but I didn’t look at her as I walked out the door.
As I suspected, taking time off from work didn’t do much for my state of mind.
I felt like a recluse, only leaving for walks with Maverick down to the beach.
But even Maverick didn’t run like usual.
He seemed to know something was off and would stay beside me while I sat on a piece of driftwood and looked out at the water.
I could have used the time to clean my house, which was a mess—typically, I was well-organized and a bit of a neat freak, but lately, I didn’t have the motivation or mental energy to clean up.
Friday afternoon, I was sitting on the sofa with Maverick curled up at my side while I scratched his head. The television was on, but I wasn’t paying attention to it. I was debating whether or not to eat lunch since I hadn’t had breakfast, and, if so, what to have.
A knock on my door interrupted my internal debate, and Maverick sat up, barking. I rubbed his head as I shushed him and reluctantly stood from the couch and walked to the door.
When I opened it, I was surprised to see Haley standing on the other side.
“Hi,” she said softly as her eyes scanned over me.
I could only imagine what I looked like—sweatpants, T-shirt, hair disheveled, faint stubble from lack of shaving.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Hey.”
“I, um…I’m sorry to drop by like this. I was talking to Dr. Tomblin, since I start working under your supervision next week.
There were a couple of forms she still needed you to sign.
” She held up a few papers. “I offered to bring them by…you know, just so you had time to look at them and bring them on Monday.”
I knew what she was doing. This was something that could have waited until Monday, but she used the opportunity to check on me.
I hesitated before nodding, stepping aside to let her in. As I shut the door behind her, Maverick came bounding over, his tail wagging.
Haley smiled, crouching down to pet him. “Hi, boy.” He spun in a circle before lying at her feet and flipping to his back for a belly rub, earning a chuckle from her.
While she was occupied with him, I grabbed a pen from my counter and walked back to the living area, sitting on the couch and looking over the papers—they were just preceptorship forms.
A moment later, I felt the couch shift when she sat down beside me. “How…how are you?”
I nodded, not looking at her. “Good.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her gaze subtly shift around the open space, probably thinking the worst of me because of the mess. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”
“No,” I replied quietly with a shake of my head as I flipped to another page. “Just me debating lunch with myself.”