Chapter Twenty-Two #2
He strokes my hair. “Not in the beginning. She tried to be kind. But despite working in family law, she never had much empathy. I think she was on the spectrum, although she’d never have admitted it.” He blows out a breath. “I’m not blaming her.”
“I know.”
“It must have been a lot to put up with. But in the end, she said she couldn’t keep waking up when she had a busy day ahead. So she started sleeping in the spare room. That was the beginning of the end, for me.”
Now I understand why he was so reluctant to sleep in here with me. “I’m so sorry.”
He doesn’t reply, but he nestles into the pillows, bringing me even closer.
It’s warm and cozy beneath the bedclothes.
I give him a while, letting him think, and sure enough, eventually he takes a deep breath and says, “We were working with an allied force in eastern Afghanistan. Intelligence suggested there was a Taliban weapons cache in a village. My job was overwatch. I was on a ridge about eight hundred metres away with a clear view of the valley while the rest of my platoon went in.”
I feel like holding my breath as the words spill from him. I can’t believe he’s finally confiding in me. Stroking his arm, I lie quietly, letting him talk.
“It should have been straightforward. We’d done dozens of operations like it. Then the first explosion went off.” He falls silent for a moment. “It wasn’t a cache. It was a trap. They’d been waiting for us.”
“Oh no. Were you able to help?”
He rests his lips on my hair for a moment before continuing. “I engaged targets as soon as I had a clear shot. One after another, trying to stop them overrunning everyone immediately. But there were too many of them.”
I hear a rasp as he rubs a hand over his beard.
“From where I was, I could see almost everything. That’s the part I can’t forget.
I watched friends trying to reach each other.
I watched men I’d trained with get hit. Some were killed where they fell.
Others were dragged away before we could get reinforcements there. ”
His voice becomes quieter. “One of our officers was captured. I saw what they were doing to her… and I couldn’t stop it.”
He stops speaking. I can sense him struggling to stay in control. I bite my lip hard so I don’t cry. He doesn’t need me bawling my eyes out right now.
“By the time the helicopters arrived,” he continues eventually, “it was over. We’d lost people. Others were badly wounded. I kept thinking… If I’d spotted the ambush thirty seconds earlier… If I’d picked a different target… If I’d fired faster…”
“Oh, Luke…”
“Therapists told me none of that would have changed the outcome. Maybe they’re right. Doesn’t stop me replaying it every night.”
I turn over to face him, slide my arms around his waist, and give him a big hug. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He buries his face in my hair, inhales deeply, then lets out a long sigh. “You smell nice.”
I hold him, wishing I could wipe away the memory of what happened. But ultimately, that’s not the answer. We can’t just erase the difficult parts of our lives. The bits we don’t like. It’s about coming to terms with these, and learning to coexist with them.
“What would you have done differently, if you could?” I ask. “I mean, was it possible for you to spot the ambush earlier?”
He rests his lips on my hair and doesn’t say anything.
“Could you have fired faster?” I ask.
Still no reply.
“Survivor’s guilt must feel like an impossible thing to cope with, I’d imagine,” I say. “But I know you. You’re conscientious. You work extremely hard. You’re very observant. You would have done your absolute best to save your friends.”
He remains quiet.
I lift up, prop my head on a hand, and stroke his face.
“I wonder if every night, you’re trying to rewrite what happened.
I don’t think the answer is to forget it.
I think it’s to remember it without replaying it.
It happened. And it’s incredibly sad. But you’re only human, sweetheart. You would have done your best.”
He shifts and mirrors my pose, facing me. It’s incredibly quiet here, but although I miss the sounds of the city, I find it peaceful, restful.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“What for?”
“For calling you princess. I thought you were a spoiled brat, and I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
I screw up my nose. “Oh, I think I was, on the night of the ball. I was cross that Marcus was making me have a CPO. And you were standing there, so handsome and stern, and I couldn’t believe I was going to have you by my side all the time. I knew I was in trouble.”
His lips curve up. “You liked me, even then?”
“I liked you when I was sixteen.”
That makes him chuckle. “At the beach?”
“Yeah. Don’t think I don’t remember you parading around in those blue surf shorts without any underwear.”
His eyebrows rise. “I don’t think that was me.”
“It was totally you. All the girls were giggling because you looked like you had a tube of Pringles down your shorts when you came out of the water.”
“Jesus.”
“I never imagined I’d have you in my bed all these years later.”
His gaze turns mischievous. “You wore a bright green bikini. It was the color of the plutonium fuel rods in The Simpsons.”
I giggle. “Oh yeah, it was luminous green. So you were ogling me, even then?”
“Oh, totally. I’d have asked you out, but Marcus would have killed me.” He pulls a face. “He still might.”
I suck my bottom lip. So he’s thinking about what happens when we go back to Auckland?
He meets my gaze, obviously thinking the same thing. “I’m not assuming anything.”
“I know.” I turn my hand palm up, and he slides his into it.
“I know we have to sort out the stalker,” he says. “I have a job to do, and I intend to do it until he’s caught.”
“Okay.”
“But when that happens… I’d like to take you out for a meal, to the cinema. Get to know you properly.”
Joy fills me. “I’d like that.”
“We will catch him,” he says firmly. “I know we will.”
I swallow hard. I’ve done my best not to think about him since we’ve been here, but he’s still out there. “I hope so.”
The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. Weeks, months, maybe even years of having that man watching my every move. Of having to wait to be with Luke.
“Come here,” he says, and he pulls me back into his arms. “Don’t think about it.” He kisses me. “Thank you for talking to me about everything. I really appreciate it.”
“I wish I could help.”
“You already have; more than you could ever know.”
I cuddle up to him, holding him tightly. I can’t bear the thought that when we go back, I’m going to have to let him go for a while.
I don’t want to have to put my life on hold. I send a plea up into the ether. Please, please let them catch the guy. Please let it all be over soon.