Without…” Tom paused, cleared his throat and looked at Gabby’s tiny sleeping form. “Let’s just say that without Gabby I don’t know how I would have dealt with everything that’s happened over the last few months. It’s been tough.”
“It’s amazing how much little people can help.” Caitlin’s hand skimmed his, the lightest of touches. “They seem to understand so much but at the same time they’re so innocent.”
“It sounds stupid, but Gabby seems to put everything in perspective for me,” he told her. He’d never said it to anyone else, but it was true. “I made a career for myself in the Navy. My brother always knew he’d leave—he only joined to get his qualifications, a means to an end, but the Navy was my life. It was everything I’d ever wanted, and it still is.”
Caitlin squeezed his fingers beneath hers before reclaiming her hand and wrapping both arms around herself as if she was cold, only it was warm in the room. Tom touched his plate then crossed his own arms and leaned back. Part of him wanted to change the subject, but there was something about talking, about getting his thoughts off his chest and being able to be honest to someone other than family that felt good.
“What happened?” Her voice was so soft he could have missed that she’d even asked a question.
Tom took a deep breath. He didn’t have to tell her, could make something up or avoid the question entirely, but he wanted to tell her. Liked that she cared enough to ask. Enough to sit up late talking about him, what had happened to him, when they hardly knew each other. And it was different than trying to talk to his family or Navy buddies. Because in them he saw pity. With Caitlin he could hold things back, could keep parts to himself, and share snippets of what he wanted, needed , to get off his chest.
“We were on a mission.” His mouth went dry, every drop of saliva gone, his tongue struggling to move. Tom ran a hand through his hair, tugged at the end, then dropped his hands to his side. Stood up because he didn’t know what else to do.
He looked at what remained of the man he’d been so close to. Of the brother he’d served with, the life gone from his body, other guys he knew so well lying injured.
Remembered the screaming pain in his chest, the truest of heartaches, as he’d realized his friend was gone. Remembered how the pain in his ear was nothing like the pain he felt at knowing he’d failed him.
Tom forced his eyes up, made himself connect with Caitlin as she watched him.
“Everything seemed to be under control. We were so careful, like we always were. We all trusted each other so much, knew we were the best at what we were doing, and then it all went wrong.”
Caitlin didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. The look on her face, the open expression and concern in her eyes, told him she wanted to know more. That she was waiting for him to continue. And for the first time in as long as he could remember, he wanted to talk.
“The explosion took us all by surprise. One minute we were focused on our mission, the next I was flying through the air.”
Caitlin leaned forward and touched his hand again, but this time her grip was firm. She locked her fingers over his, shaking her head gently. “How could you survive an explosion like that? What happened to you?”
Her eyes were darting across his face as if she was trying to see where he might have been harmed. Trying to figure out what had happened. Wanting to know how it had ended for him.
Tom raised his other hand, trying to ignore the soft, warm touch of her palm over his. He tapped his ear. “I’m almost completely deaf in this ear.” A burst of pain exploded from his chest—the pain of admitting he wasn’t strong enough, that he had failed. “I can’t pass the physical anymore, so it’s all over for me.”
Now she knew. He watched her, really watched her, waited for the look of pity that he dreaded, was becoming so used