Page 14 of How You See Me
But right now, what he thinks of me doesn’t matter. I need to look at the bigger picture. This leave isn’t punishment. It’s a rescue. I can use it to grant Ava’s wish and truly be there for her, not just calling her between shifts. And maybe I could take Dr. Keller’s advice. Think about what I want long term.
Do I want more of this for the next fifteen years? Or should I retire and help take care of my family? Could I walk away? Trade in the service to my country, the only thing I've ever wanted, to be a brother, a son, a man who lives instead of survives? Do I want a family of my own someday?
It’s a question I’ve never asked myself. Why would I contemplate marriage and kids when I have no time to date and only experienced a connection beyond surface-level attraction with one woman? A woman who’s off limits.
Damn it if Josie doesn’t just cross my mind these days. She lives there non-stop, uninvited yet undeniable.
She makes me think about a lot of things I shouldn’t, and for the first time since we met, I let myself wonder . . .
Does she ever think about me, too?
???
After our final squad meeting on Friday, I hit the road to meet up with Jordan. The hour and a half drive from Quantico to Richmond gives me enough time to leave work behind and try to shift from Marine to man—whatever non-duty mode is supposed to be. I haven’t figured that out yet.
Jordan and I have grown closer these last eight months as he adjusted to civilian life and recovered from his accident. Trauma does that to people—twists them together in ways that time can’t.
I was the first one to arrive at his wreck last fall, finding him unconscious behind a spiderwebbed windshield, bleeding, and broken. I kept my voice steady, even though my hands trembled as I dialed 9-1-1. The image of him slumped and unresponsive in something meant to protect him, still lives in a part of my brain I can’t quite clean out. And maybe I don’t want to.
It changed the way I show up for him and for others.
Since then, I’ve made more effort to nurture our friendship. I call him first when things get heavy at work, and I don’t want to lay it on Mom. We’ve been through lifeand death together, and he’s always been like a little brother to me. But these days, he’s the best friend I’ve got.
He’s already sitting at the bar when I arrive, illuminating the place like he does everywhere he goes. Some people glow no matter the moment, and he and Josie both have that gift.
“Sorry I’m late.” I drop onto the stool beside him. “Traffic on I-95 was brutal.”
“What else is new?”
“Do you mean me being late or the traffic?”
“Definitely the traffic. You’re impossibly punctual.”
“It’s called reliability.”
“Can you teach that to Josie? The girl operates in her own time zone.”
I wish my attention didn’t perk at the sound of her name. “Is she always late?”
“Never been early to a damn thing. Mom said she was even late for her due date.”
The bartender sets a cold beer in front of me. Of course, Jordan thought to order for me and remembered my usual.
“Thanks.”
“How’s everyone holding up?” he asks.
“The squad is solid. Same chaos, same strength. Ava. . . not so much. I’m heading out Monday to visit her.”
“That’s good. You need that.”
“Yeah but visiting her is only part of it. I have two weeks of leave.”
“Wow. How did you manage that?”
I take a long drink. “Medical leave. Not my choice.”
“You okay?” He sets down his beer and rotates to face me, noticing my irritation.
