Page 104 of Cross My Heart

All of my things are packed, not that I brought that much, and I sit in the common room to wait for Tyler to get here. There are people sitting around me, but none of them pay me any mind, too busy watching television or reading a book. Some of them are playing UNO as well, others are playing Chess. I haven’t exactly been the most inviting person when it comes to developing a friendship here. I think it would make it even more painful to walk away from this place. I’m not exactly sure when I started loving being here, when I became attached to the therapists and people around me, but I’m hoping I can move past it. The last thing I need is to depend on a place for my survival.

I’d like to think all the coping skills I learned here will help me in the real world. That I’ll be able to function as a member of society. I didn’t put all this effort into something just to fail. I’ve already failed enough in my life.

“Ready to go?” Sean asks me as he sits beside me. I’ve learned to call people by their first names here, rather than their last names. Here ranks don’t matter. We’re seen as real people with real problems and real feelings.

“Nah, man,” I reply with honesty, my voice cracking. I clear my throat and continue, “I’m terrified.”

“You look like it, that’s for sure.” He chuckles, but I know he’s not making fun of me. Just trying to lighten the mood. “You’re gonna be fine, I promise. You have so much waiting for you out there.”

“Not my job,” I sigh.

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, patting my arm. I look over at him, and a look of concern is etched into his features. “Even if they don’t let you return to work, this wasn’t all for nothing. This saved your life—just as it saved mine and the rest of the people in here. So just think about that on the way to work and let it sink in. No matter what happens out there, this place changed you for the better.”

I let that sink in, relaxing into the couch cushions. He’s right, I know he is. This could’ve never been all for nothing. I’ve learned so much about myself here. I’ve taken my power back and found my strength. I’ve found my independence. I see myself as a person again, not just the soldier who failed his comrades. Not just the friend who failed his own. And I’m grateful—to Tyler, to the Army, to my therapists, and to the friends I’ve made here, even if the friendships are superficial at best.

“You’re right,” I tell Sean. “Thank you. I needed to remember that.”

“Any time, man.” He smiles, “I know how it is. And this ain’t my first rodeo. But this place has saved my life more than once, and I’m just…I’m grateful.”

“Same,” I reply.

Someone comes and gets me, one of the ladies who works at the front desk, and I stiffen. I don’t know if I’m ready to face Tyler anymore. I don’t really know if I can do this.

You have to.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye, friend,” Sean says softly. He pulls something out of his pocket—a piece of paper—and offers it to me. “Keep in touch.”

I take it and look down at it, just to realize it’s his phone number. “How much longer do you have left here?” I ask him.

“Two weeks.”

I nod. “I’ll text you then.”

With that, I grab my suitcase and follow the receptionist out toward the front office. I stop short in my tracks—because there stands Tyler, arms hanging limply at his sides, his features schooled as he stares right at me. He seems to be debating how much he wants to show me, and he’s keeping his emotions locked down. That won’t do.

I wheel my suitcase faster, speed-walking toward him, and drop the handle. My hands cup his face, and his immediately come up to cup mine too. I see the pain etched into his features, and fuck if it doesn’t break my heart.

I missed him—so fucking much.

Leaning in, I slam my lips to his. It’s brutal, this kiss, and I don’t hold back. With every lash of my tongue, I show him my need for him. I show him how much I missed him. How desperate I was to be back in his arms. His hands tighten around my jaw, and he has a bruising grip on me. But I don’t cower, I let him do it. Let him get his feelings out.

It’s cathartic, the way we always come together.

But especially now.

We’re finally one again.

Two halves of a whole finding each other once more.

My lips are swollen and probably bruised by the time we pull away from each other, and it takes Tyler a moment longer to open his eyes and look straight into mine. Our foreheads are pressed against each other’s, and we’re sharing breath. But it’s not enough. It will never be enough. Because I can’t be close enough to him. Ineedto feel our connection.

With hands still cupping each other’s cheeks, and with heaving chests, we continue to look into each other’s eyes. The clear blue of Tyler’s disappears as his pupils dilate, and my nostrils flare with restraint as I keep myself from devouring him whole in front of the people working here.

“I missed you,” I murmur, low enough that it’s only for his ears. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Tyler replies, squeezing me with his hands once, then letting my face go.

I nod, dropping my own hands, and grab my suitcase. We walk out to Tyler’s truck in silence, and after I put my luggage in the backseat, I get in. A blanket of silence is draped over us, and it’s suffocating, not comforting. I want to break it, I just don’t even know what to say. Does he not want me anymore? Did he change his mind?

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