Page 87 of The Only Heart that Matters

I had all but given up when I mentioned my struggle to my buddy, Jimmy, on a visit to the East Coast. There was no way I was missing his college graduation.

After our time in the military came to an end, I received a veteran small-business grant and opened The House, whereas Jimmy, always the smart one in our platoon, took full advantage of the GI Bill, earning his bachelor’s degree in only three years. He then went on to get his masters. He said meeting with the Doc during those first three years of school was the only thing that got him through it.

After what we experienced... what we lost... Most of the surviving men and women who served in my platoon weren’t the same people we had been when we joined the military. Many of us were too guilt-ridden or scared to seek help. It would mean recounting our trauma out loud. At least for me, that’s what it was. Sure, the images played like a movie in my head, but saying it out loud... Hearing myself talk about what happened... I worried that if I dove too deep into the past, I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to the present.

There was no way I could share what I was going through with friends and family. They would never look at me the same.

Then, I met Dr. Laughlin.

Well, I’ve never met her in person, because she lives in Virginia, but we talk via video call every Tuesday at 11am. It’s been years now and even though I have a long way to go, I feel like a different person. I’m not sure I’ll ever get eight hours of sleep in a night again, but I only wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare once or twice a week these days. If getting regular sleep is all I get from therapy, it will have been well worth it.

Since I still can’t use the loft and my office at the bar isn’t private enough, I’m on my couch at the house holding a throw pillow that smells like Mia. Everything in the house smells like Mia now.

“To be honest, it’s confusing as hell, Doc.”

“How so?”

“Because being around the two of them is the happiest I’ve ever been, but she pulls away or I pull away, because we both know we can never be.”

“Why is that?”

“You know why.”

“I know what your reasons were in the past, but things between the two of you have changed. Your feelings have grownstronger and I’m curious if your reasons might be different now.”

“You’re right. As much as it should be at the top of the list, I don’t really care if being with Mia pisses my sister off anymore. She’d get over it, eventually. Besides, it’s obvious she already knows.”

“So if Daisy isn’t the reason, what has you holding yourself back?”

We’ve talked about it before, but it’s been a while since I’ve said his name out loud. My chest tightens. My breath shallows. My best friend's face flashes in my head. His face the moment before he died. Right before my eyes. The knowing look he gave me as he patted his chest, where, unbeknownst to me, he’d kept a letter that he had written in case something happened to him.

“Chris,” I finally get out after several silent moments.

“Your best friend and Mia’s brother. You don’t think Chris would approve?”

Leaning forward, my elbow on my knees, I hang my head and close my eyes for a beat before finding the strength to look into the camera. “His letter said to take care of his sister. I’m not sure this is what he had in mind.”

“Is that all?”

She knows it’s more than that. Chris is the main reason I sought help. I haven’t gotten over losing him. Or how I lost him. I’m not sure I ever will.

“She doesn’t know it’s my fault. That I could have saved her brother, and chose not to.”

“Angus, is that really what happened or is that what you continue to tell yourself? Do you think Chris would have done things any differently had it been him in your position?”

“Doc, don’t.” My chest tightens and my insides twist.

“Given your training would Chris have done anything differently?”

“No,” I exhale. The truth in my answer lessens the tension in my body.

“Do you love her?”

“With everything that I am.”

“What else did Chris’s letter say?”

There’s a lump in my throat. I swallow past it and answer, “To get back to the real world and live a full life. To be happy.”

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