Page 62 of Missing Marcus

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I mean, I have friends who have received the diagnosis, but I’m not aware of how they got it.”

She smiled. “I met your wife earlier. Congratulations on the new baby.”

“Uh…thank you. It’s sort of a new development for me,” he added with a smile. “Can you tell me if she’s doing all right? I informed her about her friend, Jackie. She didn’t take it well when I broke the news.”

“She’s processing it. Gabby blames herself. Of course, it’s not her fault. It’ll take her time to realize it.”

“Will she be okay? What about the baby? I’m sure you know we’re divorcing next week and I’m concerned about her health with everything happening,” he confessed.

“Rest assured, she’s in good hands here,” Claire spoke gently.

He let out a relieved sigh. “How do I know if I have this PTSD? I don’t know how this works and I’m anxious to get back to Gabby.”

“For now, we’ll chat for a bit. If we reach a topic you aren’t comfortable with, you only need to say ‘pass’ and then I’ll go on to my next question. PTSD isn’t necessarily diagnosed in one visit. You may be dealing with something else entirely. Tell me about yourself.”

Knight paused. “I’m a SEAL. I held a sniper position on my team. For the last eighteen months, I worked on a special assignment for the CIA. My contract ended early once I completed my task.”

“I see. What prompted you to accept the job?”

“The last year with my team seemed tense and we spun up often. When I returned home, Gabby and I fought. I hoped by getting out early, it might help us as a couple,” he admitted as he unscrewed the bottle cap and took a long draw of the cool liquid.

“What changed between the two of you? If you thought getting out of the military might help, did she express her frustration with your career?”

Knight recalled their discussions. “No. She never mentioned it.”

“Then why did you believe getting out of your contract solved your problem?” Claire slipped her shoes off and placed her feet on the couch.

“I don’t know. I felt like I lost her somewhere along the way. I missed some big life events and didn’t know how to make up for them. When I returned from my last mission to tell her about the early release, I found her in bed and a man coming out of our bathroom. I jumped to the wrong conclusion. I hurt her.”

“When you left on missions, did Gabby tell you they bothered her?”

He shook his head. “Never. When I came home, I always found a room newly painted, the yard full of flowers. One time, I came home to find her rewiring the dining room chandelier.” He chuckled.

“How did it make you feel?”

“How did I feel?” he repeated. “Gabby’s independent. If she didn’t figure it out, she called someone to handle it. I left a list on the fridge of things I noticed I needed to do when I came home. On my next return, I fixed or handled the items. It seemed like a good system.”

Claire scribbled in her notebook. “If Gabby cared for everything, what items did you have left on the list? Can you give me an example?”

His eyebrows knitted together as he recalled the lists he had left. “The roof showed a few loose shingles. I transferred money into the joint account in case she needed anything while I deployed. I changed the oil in her car and I ran errands she didn’t finish.”

“How do you think Gabby felt about your list?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused by her question. “I ensured everything got handled.”

“But I thought you said Gabby did. Think about if the situations reversed. Gabby spun up and left you a list of all the things she felt you mismanaged or didn’t get to. How does it make you feel?”

He sat, stunned. “No…you misunderstand. I didn’t know when I might spin up, making my time limited. The list ensured her comfort.”

“Are you sure? If you checked off your list, where did she come in?”

“She’s my wife. I always took her for dinner when I returned. Sometimes, she made a meal, usually my favorites, and we stayed home.”

“When you returned, how did you spend an evening together?”

His palms felt sweaty as he rubbed them against his jeans. His chest tightened as he remembered walking in from dinner and locking himself in his office for hours.

“The last year, my mission required my full attention. Even when I returned home, I still answered phone calls and tracked assets.”

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