“I have my good days and bad days.” Even though the good days far surpass the bad now, I will never be the man I used to be. I will never be able to be out in the trenches. I am slowly coming to terms with that... very slowly.
“Have you been to the house?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
“I have a few things to finish up here. Why don’t you head over, get settled, then we can grab a drink?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Except for the heading to the house part. That I would prefer to avoid.
He pulls me in for another hug. “I’m glad you're back, man.”
“Visiting. It’s only a visit,” I remind him.
“We’ll see about that.”
Even though he can’t see me, I roll my eyes at his assuredness. If he really believes that, he’s crazier than I remember.
Pulling up in front of the house, I kill the engine but don’t move. I sit there, my eyes on the steering wheel, refusing to make contact with the structure. The one that holds the most important memories of my life—good and bad.
In this situation, though, the bad definitely outweighs the good.
What was once my grandmother’s house was awarded to me when she passed. For a short while, Norah and I shared the home. We had hopes, dreams, and plans to raise a family. That went out the window, thanks to her.
“Quit being a pussy and go in already.”
Not exactly a pep talk, but it’s what I needed to hear.
When I finally drag myself out of the SUV, I plant myself on the porch for what feels like forever before I finally reach for the door handle. Blowing out a breath, I turn the knob, and memories flood my mind the moment I push open the door. Memories of my childhood and losing my parents and my grandmother. Memories of Norah and what could have been.
Almost as if on cue, my brain misfires, and I can hear the sounds of her moans. The sounds triggered me to storm up the stairs and shove open the door to our bedroom. Looking back on it now, it’s almost comical, like the beginning of some cheesy rom-com, only I can’t seem to find my happy ending. My rock bottom only seems to sink lower.
That moment sealed our fate.
Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it meant nothing. All things she profusely assured me. To me, neither of those things mattered. The damage was done, and there was no going back. The only thing that mattered was getting her—them—out of my house. The moment they were gone, so was I. I packed my shit and immediately requested another deployment.
I haven’t been back since.
Until now.
The house is in pristine condition. The cleaning woman I hired went above and beyond the expectations I set for her. You could never tell the place had been abandoned for the past five years.
Most people probably would have parted with it—got rid of the memories that they had such a hard time letting go of. Only I couldn’t. This wasn’t just my house. They weren’t just my memories. It belonged to my grandmother. The idea of getting rid of it made me feel as though I was dishonoring her memory, so I held onto it.
Settling on the couch, I rest my head on the back of it and shut my eyes as I try to reconcile what a shit show my life turned into.
What happens now that I’m not in the military? Will the aloneness I’ve reveled in turn into a burden? Will it further the anguish I feel from my entire life crumbling around me?
The job Mark offered me doesn’t sound too bad. At least I’d still be able to do what I’m good at. Sitting around feeling sorry for myself won’t get me anywhere except maybe a rehab facility. Maybe Mark’s right. Maybe it’s time to begin phase two instead of wandering around haphazardly and burying myself in women and booze.
I just wish I wasn’t done with phase one yet.
CHAPTERTWO
Ember
Blinded by the lights and deafened by the sound of the cheers, I make my way backstage. I’m beaming from ear to ear, my heart thumping in my chest from the exhilaration being on stage brings me.
All of it fades the moment I meet Devlin’s disapproving gaze.