Page 15 of Life To My Flight

Oh well.

I’d rather be fat anyway.

***

Cleo

I watched her run away from me.

Again.

I’d known, going into this two days ago, when I’d asked her out that it was going to be tough to win her back, but I didn’t realize it would be debilitating to see how very much I’d hurt her.

When I’d left her, I thought that it was for the best.

I saw how much being a PJ hurt the other men’s wives.

I knew it wasn’t easy.

I knew the divorce statistics.

I only thought to save her the heartache of being saddled with me.

Being a PJ wasn’t for the timid.

We dropped off into the middle of warzones all in the name of preserving life.

We knew going in that we might not make it out alive again.

The morning I’d left Rue, after the best night of my life, I’d had so many regrets.

However, none of those regrets compared to this one.

Having the woman that I considered mine crying against my back for twenty minutes, because I hurt her, was awful.

I knew her crying was because of me, too.

I knew it from the bottom of my heart.

I was about to put it into gear when I saw a man, wearing the same color scrubs as Rue had on earlier, walk out of the automatic doors of the ER.

I probably would’ve left if he didn’t look like he was planning murder.

And every bit of his venomous glare was directed at me.

This must be the best friend.

I’d asked around about Rue once I realized where she’d gone.

When I’d gotten out of the Air Force four months ago, I’d looked for her, but found her old house empty, and no indication of where she’d gone.

The man I’d tasked to find her had done it in less than twenty four hours.

It’d led me to Christus Health in Shreveport, or CH as the locals called it.

I’d been watching her for nearly a month, getting all my ducks in a row before I approached her. Knowing it wouldn’t be easy.

Two days ago, when I’d gotten the call to transport an accident victim to CH, I’d known that it was time to make my move.

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