Requiem for a Soldier (Requiem #1)

Chapter 40: Turning Point

I move away from the door before taking a deep breath to calm myself. In the dream, I had come back home to propose to my girlfriend. Except in this dream, I was dating Ana. Saph didn't exist. I told Ana I loved her, wanted to marry her, and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I was whole and undamaged. She was carefree and happy. And most importantly, she said yes. Even the memory of it is heartwarming and soul-soothing, completely unlike my tainted memories of the real proposal.

Then the dream took a dark turn. I relived that day - that awful day - again, but this time Ana was there, in Afghanistan, and was shot down by enemy fire. I watched her die right in front of me.

The terror still hasn't left me completely. I stumble back to the couch and focus on regulating my breathing. The thought of losing Ana and the fake memory of watching her die are emotionally devastating on a level I didn't think possible. My chest aches with the unshed tears. Why does the thought of her death wreck me even more than the memory of the day I lost all of my friends?

I feel my jaw go slack as the realization hits me. I love Ana. I am wholly and completely in love with her. The dream proposal was just a manifestation of what I've been feeling for far longer than I'd like to admit. I realize I've loved Ana for a while now, I was just too scared to admit it to myself. It still scares the hell out of me.What does she feel for me?

I run a hand through my hair, stopping as my fingers touch the ridges of the scarred flesh on my scalp. I look at my gloved right hand, shrouded in the shadows of the darkened room. I pull the glove off and stare at the stumps where my fingers used to be. I close my eyes and sink back into the couch. If I were what I once was, I could have her easily. Before I enlisted, I was never lacking for female company. Girls adored me. I was popular. Rich. Handsome. But now, with this face... Despite what Ana says, I can't imagine how a woman could look past this and find me attractive. Saph made it very clear what the female population thinks of disfigurements like mine. And what Joe said about the peculiar tastes necessary for a woman to be attracted to me... I want to vomit for the second time today.

I feel a rush of anger, not at Ana, but at myself. Why did I let myself feel this way about her? Why didn't I stop myself from wanting something I couldn't have? And why did this have to happen to me - why do I have to be so undeniably unlovable when all I want is for her to return even a fraction of the love I feel for her?

In the dream, I was perfect and whole again and Ana loved me. Would she love me now, if I could be that guy again? I get up and move over to the desk, turning on a nearby lamp. I open the locked drawer and pull out the pictures. Not the ones of Saph. Not the ones of my squad. The ones of me. I pick up the bottle of Scotch hidden in the same drawer and take a swig straight from the bottle.

As I drink and sift through the photos, I begin to feel even angrier, at myself now and at myself then. For being the idiot who fell for Saph's lies then when I could have found so much more in someone like Ana. For being able to see Ana for her true worth now but unable to share anything more with her than friendship.

I hear a noise and look up to see Ana standing there in her pajamas, her long hair up in a messy bun and a pair of silly bunny slippers I got her on her feet.

"What are you doing?" she asks gently. "I thought I heard something out here."

I try to hide the pictures I'd been looking at, but in the process, I expose one of the pictures of Sapphire. Her expression changes quickly from quiet concern to frustrated anger.

"Her again? I can't understand why you're still so hung up on her when she's been such an awful person to you."

Ana proceeds to go off on Saph, telling me why I shouldn't care about her anymore, that I should move on, and that there are much better people out there who'd treat me much better than she did. The rant makes me wonder if Ana could possibly be jealous of Saph. Probably just another self-delusion. In all likelihood, Ana's just being my loyal friend again and she's mad at anyone who hurts one of her friends. I start really paying attention to what she's saying when she takes a step closer to me and places a hand on the desk surface, the closest we've been since the day I almost broke down and kissed her.

"I don't know what she said to you when she broke up with you. But I do know that she hurt you. And I think the scars she left on your heart are by far the worst of your scars. She's the reason you hid your face from me for so long, isn't she?"

I don't deny it. I look away from her, bothered that she's able to read me so well.

"You don't have to let her define you. You don't have to let your scars define you. You have to stop letting the scars from your monster ex-fiancee and the explosion hold you back from what you want."

I pull my gaze back up to her face. Does she know what she's saying? Can she know what she's telling me to do? Can she still not see why it's impossible?

Slowly I stand. Now she's the one looking up into my face, just inches away. She doesn't pull away, but stares at me with an intensity that says maybe she does know what I want. I toy with the idea of pushing her away again, but I don't think I can bear to do that again. I hesitate for a moment before reaching up with my right hand and pulling back the carefully placed curtain of hair I use to hide my face. I turn my head to the left. Now she can see everything and I can't see her reaction.

"Look at my face," I say quietly, too tired of this ever-present fear to be angry anymore. "If you had this face, wouldn't you hide?"

There is nothing but silence for a moment. I want to look back and see her expression, but I'm too afraid. I close my eyes. Then a gentle hand alights on my cheek and turns my face back to her again. I open my eyes to see her gazing at me as though the proverb about eyes being windows to the soul were the truest words ever spoken.

Resisting the urge to kiss her is becoming a fearsome struggle. But the desire to hear her answer to the question and the equal fear at a negative reaction from a kiss keep me at bay. I remember the horror Saph claimed I was. How would a woman react to a kiss from someone like that?

I turn away from Ana and look back down at the desk, at the pictures I'd been trying to hide. I pick up the first one on the stack, one that was taken only a few months before I enlisted. I put it in the hand still frozen where it had been on my face.

"Wouldn't you rather be looking at this face?" I ask quietly.

She looks over at the picture to see a young, handsome, high-school age Ryan Burke giving the camera an intense look. She stares at it for a few moments, her expression turning into one I recognized from high school. So that's what attraction looks like on Ana's face. I don't think I've ever seen it before.

Her gaze flies back up to me. She takes a step back so she can hold the picture up next to my face and look back and forth between reality and history. I grimace. I had not intended to invite such a direct comparison. She finally lowers the picture and looks only at me.

"People can look past scars," she says, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

I didn't expect this. I expected a thousand different things, but never this. I can't stop myself from stepping closer and nearly whispering my next question.

"Can you?" I breathe.

For the briefest of moments, I think she's going to say yes. But instead, Ana's dark eyes fill with something new, an expression I don't recognize. And she doesn't say anything, just looks at me in silence.

I can feel my confidence collapsing inside of me. It's a terrible, soul-shattering feeling. This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. This was exactly why I never said anything to her. As my hope dies and my spirit sinks, she still doesn't say anything as she stares at me with that indecipherable look.

"That's what I thought," I say bitterly, moving away quickly. I have to get out of here before she's witness to an even more embarrassing display.

I hear her call out to me in alarm, but I don't want to hear it. Her silence has spoken louder than words.