Page 20 of A Man in Uniform

“Story, just listen to me,” I say, holding out my palms to calm her down. “In my line of work, I never know if I'm going to make it home standing or if I'll show up in a wooden box—”

Cutting me off, she hisses. “What's that supposed to mean? That I'm just supposed to throw caution to the wind? You chose to go into the army, no one made you, Wyatt.”

“No, that's not what I mean.” Laughing nervously, I rub my jaw. “Caution is good, I'm not saying to be reckless.”

“I'm glad you think this is funny.” Huffing under her breath, she folds her arms tight across her chest.

“Story, I'm a soldier.” Cracking a smile, I reach up and grab her hand. “I'm not crazy either, what I feel for you has never changed. And you feel too, I can see it.”

Story eyes me, lids static. “Even if that's true, it doesn't mean that I'm just going to fuck you. You hurt me, can't you see that?” I watch the tension in her body ease, muscles loosening.

“I've been gone for far too long, and I'm sorry if that hurt you, but I can't change the past, Story.” Twining my fingers into hers, I tug her back down onto her knees. “It's not easy for me either, I've spent a lot of time keeping myself away because it's easier than actually dealing with the issue.”

Her face softens, eyes flicking rapidly. She's thinking, I can see it. Her mind's wrapping around what she should do. “So why now? Why come back at all?” she asks.

“Because you stayed with me. You made me smile when you weren't there, you made me laugh when I thought I was alone. You did that, and you don't even know it. You made me realize that family is more than just something you can lose, it's something that can help you live.”

“Then why not write me? Why let my heart break into pieces? Why not just give me one thing to hold? Why were your feelings so much more important than mine?”

She isn't going to understand. She'll never understand.

Dragging my fingers through my hair, I want to answer her. I want to tell her about where I've been, what I've seen—and what I lost along the way. But that's the piece that kept us apart. It kept me from being able to love her back.

Sucking in a large breath of air, I say, “Story, I spent my entire childhood wanting more, needing to become more. I never knew my mother, and you know that. My father's a piece of shit, you know that too. Fuck, I could have gone down the wrong path at any point in my life, but you kept me grounded, and I can't thank you enough for that. I'm not saying your feelings don't matter, because they do. I just need you to realize this is me helping to keep you whole.”

Dipping her head, she looks at the blanket. “Wyatt, I don't think I can do this. I think you should just take me home.”

“Story, you make me feel things I can't explain. If you want to go home, I'll take you. But I need you to understand I can't give you what I don't fully control.” Lifting her chin, I force her to look at me.

It wasn't easy being a kid, feeling like you're not worthy to have a family, to have people who love you. And then I met Story, she brought me happiness, she gave me the strength to become someone else.

I became a soldier. Someone worth remembering.

But without someone to love me on the other side, I'll just end up being another name on a headstone.

I'm just a man in uniform.

---