Page 79 of Lavender Moon

I slam the cold water off and search around for a towel.

Kaleb, bleary-eyed and squinting against the harsh lights, reaches for the laundry basket by the door and grabs one of the fresh, folded towels.

“What the fuck is going on?” he grumbles, making me even less inclined to appear vulnerable around him.

“Nothing,” I try to convince him as I reach for the towel and feel confusion pull at my features when he doesn’t hand it over and instead steps closer to me, opening the fuzzy, lavender terry-cloth. “I…” I stammer as I realize he’s reaching over me, slinging the towel over my shoulders.

“You’re freezing,” he observes, his brow softening, and for a second, I think I see concern in those green eyes of his. “Were you taking a cold shower? In the middle of the night?”

“I…” I trail off again, as his sudden tender attentiveness has made my brain fail to synapse and form a sentence. He closes the towel tightly around me, and I automatically grab onto the front ends. When he starts rubbing his hands up and down my arms, I seriously scramble to keep my head. “It’s nothing,” I say softly, lowering my head, the cold, wet strands of my hair hanging forward, dripping little dewdrops of water onto the bathmat.

As much as I want to look up into his eyes and see if some of that old tenderness might be swimming somewhere within, I’m afraid if I do, I’ll fall in. Right now is about proving that I can be strong for him. I can’t get all lovesick on him now.

“It was just this crazy dream.” I shake my head at the floor and give out a self-deprecating guffaw. “It just shook me up a little, and you know how my mom does those ice soaks, I thought I’d try something similar,” I rattle it all off, hoping it will make me sound more cavalier as Kaleb takes another towel and starts softly blotting at the drenched strands of my hair.

“Well, are you alright?” his voice is a tender murmur and seems to come out of him so naturally. Maybe he’s just not awake enough to be holding up his cold, hard front he’s determined to show me. Whatever it is, I can’t fall into submission. This is my season of sacrifice, not his, and I need to be the caretaker.

“Yeah,” I nod, lifting my head, but only just shy of meeting his eyes. “I’m totally fine. You should get some sleep,” I absently advise as I reluctantly sidestep out of this loving bubble he’s formed around us, and pad out of the bathroom towards my room.

35

KALEB

“Ow, son of a bitch!” I gripe up at Jason, my physical therapist as he bends my bad leg, trying to work out its sore as fuck muscles.

“Sorry, Corporal,” he murmurs, letting up a little before lowering it back down. “Have you been following all the exercises and tips in your treatment summary?” he inquires as he sits back on his stool and rests his hands on his waist.

I push out a heavy breath, trying to quickly come up with an answer that’s at least half-true and believable. “You sound like my wife,” is the best I come up with.

“Your wife speaks the truth,” he says with a tilt of his head. “Healing is more about coming here and having your leg worked around. You need to be taking care of it at home – ice, soaking in the tub with Epsom salts, letting the pain be your guide…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I wave him off, trying to sourly placate him just so he’ll stop talking.

“So have you been doing all that?” he pushes, “Or do you just try to go about your business until your leg is screaming at you because you pushed it too far?”

I scrub my hands down my face in frustration. I don’t answer because he called me the fuck out. I haven’t been doing any of that because I’ve had no motivation. It’s hard when every time you try to get some sleep, all you see are bombs going off behind your eyelids, so you spend the next day like a zombie. Half my mental energy is spent warding off those awful memories while I wander the house, the backyard, and sometimes the garage where I just stare at my motorcycle with no desire to pull the sheet off it. All I want to do is to go to sleep, dream of absolutely nothing, and then wake up to the way things were before I deployed.

Luna’s been driving me fucking crazy this last month. That night in the bathroom I felt a quick flash of desire, but not in the sexual way. For about thirty seconds I felt a yearning; a want. Like I wanted to do something with myself and spend some time with Luna. It was like a soothing balm to the ache I’ve been feeling inside and out. But before I could try to piece together what was stirring up that feeling, back to her bedroom she went.

Since then, I’ve gone back to being cranky while I try to solve that lovely riddle all the while she keeps on my ass to do my exercises, lay off the alcohol, and God almighty will she ever not let up on me going to therapy. The truth is, I don’t want to face the truth. I want to keep my head buried in the sand and not bring up the traumatic and depressing as fuck reel that is my life for a stranger’s viewing and assessment. Why the hell should I relive all the shit I’ve been through? What could it possibly do but make it all worse?

“I know it seems daunting, but that’s because you haven’t started the process,” Jason continues his preaching. “If you can just get yourself rolling, even slowly, you could…”

He trails off and when I look up at him, I follow his line of vision over to who just walked through the door of the small gym.

Ah. Speaking of my annoying wife, here she comes. But when I look from her and back to the man who’s supposed to be my physical therapist, a small fire sparks to life inside of me when I see the borderline obsessive element in his stare.

“Something I can help you with?” I ask cynically through a hardened jaw.

I won’t say I blame the guy. Luna’s still the knockout she always was, even in a baggy hoodie and track pants. I don’t hate the double French braids either. In fact, if it weren’t for the tired look on her face, they’d be kind of badass.

“Huh?” Jason does a double take between me and Luna before snapping out of his stupor. “No, not at all. Good work today,” he finishes, looking away and nervously clearing his throat.

That’s what I thought.

After rising from my seat, I stand in front of Jason a second, letting him take in my full height before grabbing my jacket and marching over to where Luna stands, waiting.

“All set?” she asks, and I see her eyebrows raise faintly as I zealously take her hand in mine and escort us towards the door.

---