Page 34 of Embracing Hope

“So how does someone become anti-committal? Did you have your heart broken?” She glanced over at him.

His chest lifted and fell as he came to terms with her question. At first, she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he said in a gritty tone, “Not in the way you think it was broken.”

She shifted so that she could see his profile. “Then how?”

“Something happened. In Iraq.” He stared straight ahead.

She laid her hand on his hand. “I’m a good listener.”

His arm flexed under her touch. “It’s not an easy story to tell.”

“The hard ones never are,” she said.

“My team was on a mission. Our orders were simple. Take the target.” The words tumbled from him in an even tone, which she doubted he felt inside. “We found him in an ungoverned village. I had the target in my crosshairs, but I waited for a clear shot. There were kids everywhere. I allowed my conscious to get the best of me.” He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the memory.

“Did you shoot him?” She kept him talking.

“The shot was mine; I failed.” Isaac shifted uneasily. “The target ordered an explosion, and fire spread through the village. Women and children were hurt. My unit and I…we tried…”

“Oh no.” She brought her fingers to her lips trying to stifle a moan. “Isaac, I’m so sorry.”

He nodded. “If I had only taken the shot.” He pounded the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. “If I had done my duty, those villagers would be alive.”

She moved her hand to his bicep. “But it’s not your fault. You were keeping the kids safe.”

He looked at her hard. “It doesn’t work that way. I had a responsibility and I failed.”

The emotion in his voice made her chest ache. His internal pain seemed to pour out. She stayed quiet, allowing him to continue.

“That memory plays through my mind on an endless loop—no beginning or end. Some days, I want to be alone to lick my wounds in private. At night, I’ll wake up drenched in my sweat. The sounds…” He gave his head a shake.

“That incident…that’s why you don’t want a relationship?”

His exhale was ragged. “How could I ever bring somebody into my life and ask them to face this with me?”

She felt his pain. “The right person will not only face this with you, but they’ll be there to listen and to help.”

His raw chuckle surprised her. “You say that, but the first time they wake up in the middle of the night to a man shaking and imagining that he’s in some desert, their tune would change.”

“Have you tried?”

“What?”

“Have you tried? You did sleep with me all night and you didn’t wake up having a nightmare.”

His jaw flexed. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep with you. I was exhausted. The alcohol also helps me sleep better. Unfortunately, it’s only a temporary solution.”

“Is that how you were injured?”

He nodded. “I wonder each day how I made it out.”

Hope realized that his issues all stemmed from the pain of guilt. He had shared something deep with her, and she felt like she needed to reciprocate in some way. “Since we're being vulnerable and open, I have something to tell you. Daddy has cancer,” she blurted.

Isaac dropped a hand to his thigh. “Cancer?”

Although she felt relief revealing her father’s illness to someone, it also scraped away the protective wall she’d built. Tears filled her eyes but she blinked them away, searching for strength. “Daddy has always been a force to be reckoned with. Strong and powerful.” Her words trailed off.

“That’s why he’s not been around?”

---