Winning the Lottery

Ch. 18 Therapy

She nodded. "She got away from you and got shot. How did that make you feel?"

"Scared. I was worried I'd never see her again. I helped her and the shooter take a patient to the operating room. I didn't tackle the shooter. I didn't stay with her. There was so much I could have and should have done, but I wasn't thinking. When it comes to her, I can't think."

"When you found out she was shot, how did you feel?"

"My world stopped. I just ran to the O.R. and knelt beside her. She was in a pool of her own blood. Her scrubs were soaked and covered with holes. I didn't want her to be alone. She tried to leave me, almost died, and that scared the crap out of me."

"You really care about her."

"I love her."

She smiled, "A lot has changed since I last saw you. Even the fact you're in a relationship is a huge step. What made you want to take that leap?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. I met her in a diner. She walked over to take my order and I just felt comfortable. I hadn't felt that comfortable since before my first deployment."

I looked at him. I hadn't realized I changed him so much, that I brought out feelings he'd not felt since before he first left for the war.

There was a knock on the door. It opened.

"Dr. Malone?" someone spoke.

I looked up.

Dr. Cole stood there. "The Chief told me I'd find you here. I need you to look at something." She handed me a scan.

I took it from its sleeve and looked at it.

The spleen was nearly compromised and the stomach looked fairly bad, too. I looked at her with wide eyes.

"That was my reaction."

"How long does the patient have?" I asked.

"Not long. Maybe a few months. We need to tell them when you're finished here, okay? If he wants to fight this, we need to start as soon as we can, probably tonight."

"Okay." I handed her the scans. "I'll page you when we're finished."

She nodded and left.

Oh, dear. Peter looked bad. If he didn't have treatment soon, he really wasn't going to make it. How was I supposed to tell them how bad he was? How could I tell the man I loved that his father was more than likely going to die in a few months?

"Britt? Everything okay?" Jake asked.

I shook my head, coming back to the conversation. "Yeah, sorry."

"Do you need to go?" Jake asked.

"No, it's fine for now."

"James, can you tell me what your goal is? I mean, I know you want to suppress the PTSD, but is there an ultimate goal?" Dr. Richards asked.

He turned to her. "I've started construction on this beautiful land and the house should be finished in a few months. When that time comes, I want to be able to start a family without worrying about killing my wife and kids at night. I don't want to be a monster."

Wife and kids. Why did everything he say make it sound like he wanted a life without me? Did he want to get married? Or did he think we wouldn't make it that long? Could he not see a future with me?

"Britt, you look like you have something to say," Dr. Richards spoke.

I looked at her. "No, I don't."