Page 14 of Since the Day We Kissed

Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hand moving to Hero’s head. “Not officially, but he’s my support—”

The receptionist’s face softened. “I’m sorry, but only certified service animals are allowed in the hospital. You’ll need to wait outside.”

Ethan sighed.What’s this place have against support animals?

Hero was just as good as any service dog. Heck, he’d saved Ethan’s life in a war zone.

He leaned in. “Please, I just need to know if she’s—”

“Sir, are you a family member?”

“No, but I was there when—”

The receptionist held up a hand, her voice sharpening. “I understand, but we have strict policies about patient privacy. Again, you’ll need to wait outside.”

What if the woman has no family?

The image of the woman waking up alone in an empty room flashed through Ethan’s mind. Years in the military had taught him the value of rules. Most were good, or so he thought. But not this one.

“I understand.” Ethan nodded, then turned on his heel and headed back toward the exit.

As he reached it, he glanced back, catching the receptionist’s watchful gaze. With a resigned sigh, he went outside and hoped for a chance to gather more information. It was a small hospital, after all ...

Maybe her family will show up and I can speak to them out here.

At least the rain had stopped. Ethan spotted a bench near the entrance. He made his way over and sank onto it. From there, he could see every face that passed through the sliding doors.

It’s gonna be a while.

Leaning back against the bench, Ethan scanned the near-empty parking lot. There was his truck, with a few others parked off to the side. He supposed that was a good thing. The quiet of the night was almost soothing.

A wail shattered the silence, and red lights strobed across the asphalt as an ambulance careened into the parking lot, its siren now a deafening howl. Ethan’s pulse spiked as the ambulance screamed past, rounding the corner to the ER entrance. His chest tightened, the sound blending with memories of distant gunfire, explosions, and chaos. The beeping of medical equipment in his mind grew louder, and he closed his eyes, wishing the silence to return.

When he opened his eyes, he was back—at another hospital ...

Ethan blinked slowly, the effects of the anesthesia still lingering in his system. Lying in a hospital bed, a persistent throb in his arm reminded him of the bullet they’d dug out—a souvenir from a battle he’d rather forget.

A soft knock on the door frame snapped Ethan from his haze. He looked up to see Private Thompson limping into the room.

“Sarge, you hangin’ in there?”

“Still breathing,” Ethan rasped, forcing a small smile. “The others?”

Thompson’s gaze drifted downward. “Carter ... Ramirez ... Davis. They didn’t make it.”

Ethan closed his eyes as his fingers clawed at the bedsheet, twisting the fabric. The air rushed from his lungs as if he’d been punched in the gut. Despite the spinning disorientation, his faculties wouldn’t abandon him. Instead, his mind drifted to a newscast he heard before they had deployed.

“We’re winning the war on every front,” the politician had said.

Just not today ...

No, today Ethan learned the truth: War isn’t something you win—it’s something you survive. And more than anything now, he hated it. Not because it was hard, but because the price of war is paid in lives. What victory could ever be worth that?

“But everyone else made it, Sarge. Thanks to you. What you did out there—you saved our lives.”

Ethan’s eyes fluttered open, red-rimmed and glistening. He swallowed hard. “Carter’s wife ... she’s due next month. And Ramirez—” He had to fight to keep his voice steady. “—His little girl won’t even remember him. And Davis ... kid was barely old enough to drink.” On the last word his voice broke, and he turned his face away from his brother-in-arms.

“You did everything you could, Sarge. We all did. And because of you, most of us are going home.”

---