Page 55 of Uncharted

“I want you to tell me. But only if you want to. Please don’t feel like I need an explanation, Tyler.” Her words were a soothing salve over an open wound. When her comforting movement over my skin picked up again, I knew she didn’t expect me to share my horrific past if I didn’t want to.

But I wanted to.

“It was a mission gone wrong,” I repeated. “Lost every fuckin’ teammate with me. I can still see them. All of them. Their faces smiling and laughing before we hopped into the Humvee. The sounds of their screaming. The aftermath. And I was lucky enough to emerge with only a fucked-up leg. Now I’m stuck with these nightmares. I guess I just gotta accept I might never be rid of them. I just want them to end. But they pop up every now and again, following me around, making me feel like I’m gonna lose my damn mind. Jackson and Mark are the only ones who know everything. The other guys—Ben, Liam, Quinn—know the CliffsNotes version, so to speak. They get me, you know? They all get where I’m coming from.”

“I can’t see why they wouldn’t. I’m sure they’ve all experienced similar situations and loss.” Her words were spoken quietly.

“Ben gets it the most, I think. Fuckin’ IEDs. He was injured during duty too. Has aBeelike I do.” My laugh was part chuckle, part grunt when I said, “Though I’m not sure if he named his.”

I felt a little chuckle vibrate through her. “They do understand you. I’m glad you have them. You’re not alone,” she said.

I wondered briefly if that included her. “I’m lucky. I have a great job. I’ve got great friends.” My mind jumped to Ben. “I’m just glad Ben badgered me to contact Jackson. He knew how I was feeling. Knew exactly what I was going through. It’s hard to let go of the action. It’s in our blood. The once a SEAL, always a SEAL mentality, ya know?”

“Pretty sure it’s the same with cops.”

“Missions . . . active duty . . . serving my country. It’s what I live for. My missions were a rush. I was a junkie, and they were my proverbial drug. After my first one, I was hooked. There’s nothing like it.” I shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to. I get it.”

“But when I was injured . . . that fateful day . . . it changed me. And not in a good way.”

“How?”

“When I was medically discharged, I was lost—floundering and drowning at times. I’d had surgery and had countless sessions of PT. Although I felt fine, the doctors wouldn’t clear me to go back. I couldn’t be active anymore. The NAVY didn’t want me. Well, at least that’s how I saw it. I came back missing part of my leg. I was heavily medicated and a royal asshole to everyone. I was depressed, in denial, and completely devastated. I knew my career was over. And for a SEAL . . . for a man, there’s nothing worse than feeling like you aren’t a man.” I shook my head. “I don’t even know if that makes any sense.”

Marisa’s head nodded against me. “It makes total sense. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t do my job. If it was suddenly taken away from me.”

“Yeah.” I huffed out a disgraced breath. “Then there’s the shit I put my ex through.” When Marisa didn’t say anything, I said, “I’m sorry, do you even want to hear all of this?” I wasn’t sure if my past was going to be a burden—unloading all of my baggage onto her seemed unfair.

She lifted up, perched herself on her elbow, and brought her hand to my face. “I do want to hear it. I have wanted to hear it. But I know how you are, Tyler. You’re like me. And pushing you to give information you’re not ready to . . . I just knew not to push you. If you’re ready to tell me, I’m willing to listen.”

Even in the darkness, I searched her eyes. Maybe I was in denial, thinking she wouldn’t get me. I couldn’t get over the fact that she was so perfect. Maybe I was out of my mind for feeling this way. I didn’t know. But I finally wanted to take the chance and let someone in. Let someone fully in, scars and all.

“Okay, here goes. Please don’t judge me.”

“I won’t.”

And instinctively, I knew she wouldn’t.

“I pushed her away. Amelia. Her name was Amelia.”

“Okay.”

“Anyway,” I continued, “I wasn’t nice about it. I was a downright asshole to her. I felt like I was holding her back from living. I didn’t want that. And at the time, I couldn’t see past my amputation. I couldn’t imagine how I’d get past the depression. I didn’t know how to be a man if I wasn’t a SEAL. And I took it out on her.”

Marisa’s hand was resting on my stomach, her head resting on my chest. She was silent in my arms. But I knew she was listening.

“She wanted a family and kids. The picket fence and all that. I didn’t see how I’d ever be able to give any of it to her. How was I going to be the husband, partner, and father she deserved when I was only half alive? And she did deserve it. She deserved it all. But I wasn’t whole. Shit, I was missing my leg. I was never going to be whole again.”

“But that’s not true.”

“I know that now. But that’s how I felt at the time.” I blew my breath out through my nose and dragged my hand through my hair. “It sucked. When I was going through it.”

“And now? Is that how you still feel? About yourself? About life?”

“No”—I gave her a squeeze—“not anymore.”

Her sigh was heavy, almost sad. “I don’t know what to say. Sorry seems so cliched. But if I’m being honest, I like Bee.”

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