The brutal sting across my cheek seemed to snap me out of the stupidity that had come over me. I stared at the livid Luke, trying to process what I had just done.
"How dare you," he said lowly, clearly trying to rein in his anger. "I thought you'd grown up."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. It bubbled up inside of my chest and spilled out like a waterfall. "No, Luke. I'm still a fucked up child." I took another drink as he let out a long—very annoying—sigh.
He didn't say anything. Instead, he did what I wanted him to do. He left. But the moment the door shut behind him, I felt empty. I should have apologized, not made some snarky comment. I took another drink and sat back down on the couch, leaning back until my head was resting against the backrest. I could still apologize to him later when I wasn't feeling so drained and pathetic.
But for now, I just wanted to drink my whiskey and go to bed, putting this day behind me for the rest of my life. Or until I remembered it again and wanted to punch myself. This time I let out the long, annoying sigh as I thought about Emily. She most certainly didn't like me now, and obviously I couldn't blame her. Even I was having a hard time coming to terms with what I had done. It didn't matter that it was an accident. It meant I was a ticking time bomb—worse than I had thought.
It's not like I hadn't been warned. I had. But I had dismissed it because nightmares and pain weren't that big of a deal to me. I had been told it could turn into something more serious, I just hadn't realized it was choking-an-innocent-woman serious. And I couldn't get the image out of my head. It continued to replay over and over. Just another memory to torment me until the day I die.
A half-past eleven, there was a knock on the door and I knew exactly who it was. Which is why I ignored it. When the knock sounded again, I got up, turned all the lights off, and went to bed. I wasn't going to talk to Emily. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not again. She was safer far away from me. Everyone was.
~*~
"Quit? What do you mean you quit? Why?" Sabrina was clearly irritated, but I couldn't give a crap even if I wanted to.
"I don't need the job anymore. Just mail me the last paycheck." I hung the phone up and ignored the callback.
There were other ways to make money that didn't involve Luke. Hopefully. But even if there weren't, I didn't need the money. What I did need was a drink; I drove to the nearest liquor store and got my usual before grabbing a pizza and heading back home.
Will was sitting on my front porch when I arrived. I parked the truck in the garage and went inside. He didn't knock, and for a while, I stared at the door wondering if I should bother opening it. I almost didn't, but my curiosity got the better of me. Will would never come here unless he had a good reason or at least a good reason for him. I finally opened the front door.
"What do you want?" I tried to sound as neutral as possible, I didn't want to start anything.
"I heard about last night."
"Of course you did," I scoffed and threw my hands up. "If you think I need a lecture, you're wrong."
"I didn't come here to lecture you."
"Then what do you want?" I repeated.
"To know why you don't get help for your PTSD."
I stared at him in surprise. I had expected him to tell me off for what I did, not this. "Is that really any of your business?"
"No," he said honestly. "But I understand what PTSD is like. What I don't understand is why it's that bad and you haven't gotten help."
Once again, he took me by surprise. For a moment, all I could do was stare at him. How would he know anything about it? But he had my curiosity piqued. I stepped aside and opened the door, allowing him to come in. After gesturing for him to sit on the couch, I plopped down on the beanbag chair.
"I came from an extremely abusive home—my father is the one that put my mother in a wheelchair. I had panic attacks just being in the same room as him. It took years to get over it."
Despite the fact that I didn't like Will, the thought of having a childhood like that made me feel sorry for him. My parents had been great, I couldn't imagine having a father like that.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because it took years of therapy for me to get better. And I have a feeling that you went through a hell of a lot more than me."
"I saw a therapist," I finally admitted after a moment of silence that he clearly wasn't going to break. He gave me a flat look and I sighed. "I don't know why you're here trying to get me to see a therapist. What's it to you? You can't stand me."
He tilted his head slightly. "That's not actually true. I don't hold any ill feelings toward you anymore. But this isn't just about you. It's about Luke too. He still cares about you a great deal. And he misses you."
My eyes lowered to the floor. The mention of Luke brought guilt to my chest. Guilt because I had kissed him. Guilt because I had pushed him away. Guilt because I had punched him all those years ago. That one would never leave me, I was sure of it at this point.
"He told me about the kiss."
My eyes shot up to his, but he didn't seem angry, which threw me off. I wasn't sure what to say. Sorry? That would be too hard to say to him because I still couldn't stand him. Although, at this point, I was sure a lot of that was jealousy that he had gotten Luke. But he probably treated Luke better than I would have been able to anyway, so it was stupid for it to bother me.
"You really did care about him, didn't you?"
Those words made my heart jump. He sure was forward. "Does it matter?"
"Yes. I think it's important for Luke to understand that."
"Why?" His words didn't make any sense. Why would he want Luke knowing that?
"You don't think it's better for him to know that than think he was being used?"
"Used? Is that what he thinks?"
"He thinks you were acting in a time of need and that's all. I know that thought hurts him because it meant more to him."
"I don't want to talk to you about this," I finally said. It was beyond uncomfortable to talk to Will about the time I had made Luke cheat on him.
"Which is fine. It's Luke you should talk to."
"I've tried to tell him the truth. He doesn't want to believe me. And I don't care if he does or not. Okay?"
"Does it help to pretend you don't give a shit about people?"
My jaw tightened and my fists balled, but I kept my cool. Because he was only pointing out the truth—I couldn't get mad at that. "Okay. You've said what you needed to say, now I need you to leave."
We both stood and went to the door where Will turned to look at me. "Listen, I don't think you're a terrible guy, you've just made mistakes. But you do need to get help. Not just for Luke, obviously. I was just hoping that would maybe make you want to do it a little more. But you need to do it for yourself most importantly. You don't need to live your life in the past. You deserve to find happiness."
He opened the front door and stepped outside, not leaving an opening for me to say anything in response. I was glad for that because I wasn't sure how to respond to that last statement. I had thought he was only here for Luke, but that sentence made it sound like he was thinking about me as well. And why the hell would he do that? I watched him pull his car out of the driveway and began retreating back into the house.
"Hey," a voice called out from Emily's house. Her father stood on the last step, waving me over. "Come here."
Despite not wanting to, four years of military service had me listening to the command of Colonel Fields. "Good afternoon, sir." The words were familiar and left a bitter taste on my tongue.
"Afternoon, Mr. Schofield." His voice was a bit curt and I instantly knew Emily told him what happened.
"About—"
He put his hand up to silence me and my mouth shut.
"What happened last night cannot happen again. And I don't mean just to Emily. You're dangerous and you need to find help. But that's not why I called you over. I can't imagine you don't already know how terribly you messed up."
"Then why?"
He shook his head. "When Emily introduced us, I knew your name sounded familiar. So, I called around to find out why."
My body went cold as Colonel Fields spoke the next sentence.
"I know what you did."