Page 28 of Compassion

“Right.” I ignore the niggling in the back of mind that informs me she’s lying and explain, “Grunt is a slangmilitaryterm. I was in the army.”

“Oh!” More waves of embarrassment flood her face. “Oh, that makes way more sense. Especially considering the tattoos I saw earlier.” Thoughts back to the moment seem to color her face yet again but aren’t openly acknowledged by either of us. “How long were you enlisted?”

“Eight years. Straight out of high school.”

“Wow.” Her fork finally cuts another piece of the lasagna for consuming. “Why didn’t you keep going? Why didn’t you push to ten? Don’t you get better benefits or bonuses or something at that point?”

My body instinctively tenses.

Strains to the point my muscles ache.

Typically, this is where I would switch subjects with someone, but unfortunately for me, Jaye isn’t just a randomsomeone.

She’s…different.

And that fucking difference is what gets me to confess. “I was injured.”

Worry for me that I’ve never seen on another individual – all foster parents included – springs on her face. “You’re okay, though? Other than the limp?”

My non fork wielding hand grips the back of my neck and gives it a harsh squeeze forcing my head to fall forward in shame.

Fuck, I hate the fact that she noticed.

That it’snoticeable.

That my weakness is so fucking exposed.

Anxious to get out of the spotlight, I abruptly declare, “I’m full.”

“Oh.”

The dejection in her tone lands on my shoulders.

Chest.

Crushes my ribcage.

Vocal cords.

Makes it almost impossible to meet her gaze.

“Okay,” Jaye sweetly backs down yet the gentle grin on her expression remains. “You can go ahead and get settled in for the night if you like.”

“I can help with the dish-”

“Don’t worry about those. I’ll take care of them.” She struggles to redirect her attention to a piece of food on her plate. “And I’ll leave the light on in the guest half bath just in case you need to go in the middle of the night.”

“Jaye-”

“Remember to turn the space heater off before you fall asleep,” my hostess continues as though I hadn’t tried to interrupt. “Don’t wanna burn the house down. Policeandfirefighters in my driveway would bea lotfor one day.”

“Ja-”

“Once your clothes are ready, I’ll fold them and leave them outside the door to the garage, so I don’t wake you up. Assuming you’re asleep.”

Sensing that she no longer wants to hear from me, I quietly concede. “Thank you again.”

She meekly nods, pokes her food, and doesn’t bother watching me exit.

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