Chapter 3 Hayden
HAYDEN
Who are you now?
That question has been playing on a loop in my brain all damn week, and I still don’t have an answer. How did she do that? How did Cami peer right down into the depths of my darkened soul and speak directly to my deepest insecurity?
“We have just enough time for one more person to share about their week,” Allen says, drawing my attention back to the present moment.
He hasn’t tried to get me to talk since a few weeks ago, when I almost had a panic attack.
I appreciate that he’s respecting my boundaries, but I think…
I think I might be ready to open up, just a little bit. .
“I, uh, I’ll share,” I say, my voice betraying my lack of confidence.
I avoid eye contact with the other men and women in the group, instead focusing my attention on a flyer hanging on the back wall. It makes it easier somehow, and right now, I’ll take all the help I can get.
“I guess I’m having an identity crisis,” I start, huffing out a breath and shaking my head.
“My only goal in life was to be in the Army. When that was no longer a viable option because of…” I stumble over my words, not wanting to share everything.
Not on this first day, at least. “Well, when I was medically discharged, I found something else to occupy my time. I worked security detail and did anything and everything to avoid coming back home. I was a bouncer, a bodyguard, a home security specialist, you name it. But now…” I shrug and rub the back of my neck, looking down at my feet.
“Now, I don’t know who I am,” I admit shamefully.
“And the fucked up part is, I’m scared to find out.
What if I’m nothing except the monster the military made me?
What if I have nothing left of my soul?”
My question hangs in the air, and I venture a look around the circle of fellow soldiers. Most faces are stoic and unreadable, but a few people are nodding.
“I feel that way all the time,” one of the older men says. “Couldn’t put it into words, but that’s exactly what it is. I feel empty.”
Hearing someone empathize and even relate to what I said loosens the grip of panic, urging me to run right out of this room and hide. The man doesn’t have any answers, but that’s just as well. I don’t know if I’m ready to hear any solutions. It’s enough to be heard and understood.
“Thank you for trusting us with your pain,” Allen, the group therapist, says.
I nod and wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans.
I didn’t think of it as trust, but he’s right.
I feel raw and vulnerable, but not judged or belittled.
“Each person in this room has the option to start new every single day. You won’t find your identity immediately, but you can start by rebuilding relationships.
Find hobbies. Seek joy and safety. That’s what most of us who have come back from combat are lacking. ”
I let his words sink in, not sure what to do with them.
I’ve been stuck in the past for so long, I never took the time to consider the future.
What future? My unhelpful inner monologue chimes in.
And why would it matter? So many others died, why did I survive?
Why should I get to have a joyful and safe life when theirs ended so horrifically?
Images of my final day as a soldier crawl into my consciousness from the dark corners of my mind. A flash of light. A thundering explosion that rendered me almost deaf for several minutes. Blood, dirt, scorching heat. Helplessness. Trapped. Suffocating…
Another image is conjured up in my mind, expanding and pushing out the negative thoughts. Cami. Her kind, curious hazel eyes and warm smile fill my vision, soothing the jagged pieces of whatever’s left of my soul. Her hand reaches out to me, pulling me from the depths of my most shameful memories.
“That’s all the time we have for today. Good session, everyone,” Allen announces.
I jump from my seat, exhausted and ready to be alone in my own space after spilling my deepest fear to a group of near-strangers.
A few people shake my hand and thank me for sharing, which is a strange, new feeling.
I thought I’d be villainized or worse, pitied.
Instead, I’ve found people who accept me.
Eventually, I make it outside, where I gulp down the fresh, crisp air.
The cool breeze feels incredible on my heated skin, allowing my heart to slow down with each calming breath.
As freeing as it was to share in group today, I’m absolutely exhausted.
I feel beat up and like I could curl up in bed and sleep for days.
Who knew working on your mental health would take a physical toll on your body, too?
As much as my feet are itching to carry me to my truck so I can start my hibernation, I know I have to stay and make sure Cami gets to her car safely. I don’t think I can face her right now, but I can watch from a distance.
No sooner do I think the words than the woman herself appears. I tuck myself behind the corner of the building, using the cover of bushes to hide.
Cami is wearing black leggings with bright, neon pink, green, and blue stars printed on the fabric. Her jacket is purple with light blue trim that matches her stocking cap. She looks like a colorful dessert, so sweet and tempting.
My fists clench and unclench at my sides as I resist the urge to scoop her up and take her somewhere private where I’d strip her down and…
So inappropriate, I scold myself. I may have been obsessing over her and her insightful question for the last week, but that doesn’t mean she even remembers me.
“Are you there, Hayden?” Cami asks, peering over one shoulder and then the other. “Helloooo? Where is my guardian angel?”
Stick to the plan. Stay in the shadows. I’m no good for her. Talking to her now will only give me false hope.
“Hm. Or is someone else here?” she questions out loud.
Well, shit. I don’t want her to think she has a stalker or make her anxious in any way. I brace myself for being in her intoxicating presence, reminding myself to keep myself under control.
I step out from my hiding spot and am greeted with bright, sparkling greenish-brown eyes and the kind of sweet, heartfelt smile that belongs in a romance movie. She looks genuinely happy to see me, almost like she’s been waiting her whole life for me to come along.
Seek joy and safety. Allen’s parting words from earlier come floating back to me, and I’m hit square in the chest with a realization I’m not sure what to do with.
Cami makes me feel… Well, that’s the thing; she makes me feel.
I’ve been numb for so long, shutting everything and everyone out.
Yet, here she is, this kind, sweet, innocent woman sharing her joy with me and creating safe spaces for everyone around her. How could I not be drawn to her light?
“There you are! I knew I sensed you.” Her voice is smooth with an edge of excitement. Do I excite her? God knows she’s awakened and excited a certain part of my anatomy for the first time in years, but I would never assume she’d look at me the same way.
“Yeah, I, uh…” God, why am I so awkward? Why can’t I just say what’s on my mind? On second thought, maybe it’s better this way. If I tell her what I’ve really been thinking these last few days, I might scare her away with how obsessed I already am with her.
“Trying to hide from me?” she guesses. Cami doesn’t look upset, simply curious. I love that about her.
She’s not bitter and jaded like I am. Cami looks at the world with an innocence I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced, even before my time in the military.
It makes me want to wrap her up in my arms and protect her from anything that threatens to tarnish her outlook on life.
She should always be this carefree and curious.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she continues. It’s a miracle my stuttered out, grunted responses haven’t deterred her. As much as I shouldn’t want her, I’m desperate for every life-giving word from her lips.
Jesus, listen to me. I’m so far gone for this woman, it isn’t even funny.
“You’re glad I’m here?” I repeat.
“Absolutely. Here, I made this for you today.” I blink at her, dumbfounded by her gift.
She pulls a bracelet made out of colorful thread that’s been knotted together to form a striped pattern.
I remember my little sister making similar bracelets when she was a kid, but this one is definitely higher quality and clearly done by a pro.
I suppose Cami had had lots of practice in her time volunteering at the community center.
“For me?” I ask. I realize I’m just parroting her words like a fool, but the smile curling the corner of her lips tells me she doesn’t mind.
“You don’t have to wear it or anything. I was just thinking about you, and–”
“I’m never taking it off,” I grunt, my voice coming across harsher than I intended.
Cami giggles, and I breathe in this moment where I could bring her a fraction of the joy she’s already given me. “Good. I’ll put it on for you,” she offers.
The beautiful, cheery woman with hazel eyes reaches for my left hand, and I let her loop her delicate fingers around my wrist. She positions me where she wants me, then ties the bracelet on my wrist, loose enough not to dig into my skin.
When Cami tries to remove her hand from mine, I squeeze and hold her captive for a second too long.
“Thank you,” I murmur, finally dropping her hand.
“I actually wanted to thank you,” she says, surprising me. “You’ve been watching over me for weeks now. You’re a good man, Hayden.” I shake my head no, unable to accept her praise. “But for some reason, you don’t believe me,” she finishes.
“I’m no good for anyone,” I mutter. Doubt and shame creep up my spine as I remember the break-in at my sister’s bookstore.
I wasn’t there for her. I was useless, just like that day my leg was damn near blown off.
I couldn’t help the others in my unit. I lay there, bloody and broken, listening to their agonizing screams.
“Hey, I’m right here,” she whispers, her hand curling around mine once more. “I’m not judging you. I can’t imagine the things you’ve seen and experienced while serving your country. Whatever you did, it was to survive.”
“What if I didn’t deserve to survive?”
Cami gasps, forcing me to meet her gaze. I’m blown away by the sorrow and hurt in her eyes. They glisten with unshed tears… for me?
“Please don’t say that.” Her voice is gentle yet somehow commanding at the same time. “You can’t change the past, but you can honor those who sacrificed everything by living and breathing and finding contentment within. Isn’t that what they’d want? Not a life of penance, but one of peace?”
Once again, this incredible woman is saying everything I didn’t know I needed to hear.
She’s my joy, my safety, just like Allen said.
I nod slowly and lift her hand to my lips.
I have no idea what I’m doing, only that it feels natural.
I press a kiss to her knuckles and hold her gaze, willing her to see how much her words mean to me.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve your kindness,” I rasp.
The moment becomes too real, too intense.
The storm of emotions bubbling up inside of me nearly takes my breath away, each wave pulling me deeper and deeper into the abyss.
I feel like I’ve been put through the wringer, and now I have to adjust to the fact that Cami has a piece of my heart. I think I grew it just for her.
I drop her hand and take a step back, nodding toward her car. “Better get going.” My voice is scratchy and thick with emotion, but I cover it up with a cough.
Cami doesn’t look hurt or offended. Once again, she simply peers at me with bright eyes filled with questions she knows I can’t answer.
I watch as she climbs into her car and drives away, much like the past several weeks. Only this time, I can’t shake the feeling that we should be driving home together.