Everything about him challenged me, his posture, his tone, all of him, and the air between us crackled with tension. "I refuse to support this. If this is what you choose, what you want? Well, then you can find yourself somewhere else to live. You can find someone else to feed and clothe you. Can he do that? Will he take you in? And is that what you want? To abandon us?" He touched his chest. "To sacrifice us for him? Because that's the choice you'll have to make. I just hope he doesn't turn you out, because we won't be here for you when it all falls apart."
Anger and sadness and confusion rolled through me, disappointment over how everything had gone hanging over me, pressing into my chest, suffocating me. Abandon them? They would abandon me. But how could I survive without them? They were everything I'd ever known, my last tie to my mother.
My sisters watched me through my mother's eyes, nodding their support like mob lackeys, and my father was the Godfather.
"Why are you doing this?" I breathed.
"Because you're not smart enough to make the decision yourself. I'm your father, and I know more about the world than you do. It's my job to protect you from that," he said piously.
I didn't even know what to say through the shock of the moment; his words stopped me dead. It's not that I believed what he said or subscribed to what he proposed — I didn't. But what he said hit me deep, not only because some of it struck a chord — being alone, lonely while he was deployed, praying he came home to me — but because I was afraid. I felt my age, like a silly little girl with dreams too big and feelings too grown up. If I left, I'd have no one other than Wade and his family. And if he died … would Rick and Sophie keep me?
The thought of choosing between my past and my future overwhelmed me. I didn't know how to make that decision.
But Wade … Wade would understand. He loved me — he'd never force me to choose. I believed with all my heart that he would wait, that we could go back to the old plan. The alternative was too much to even fathom. I just had to talk to him, and we could sort it all out.
But I was wrong. So, so wrong. And that mistake had haunted me ever since.
5
Razed
Burned down
And singed,
Razed to ash
And blown to the wind.
* * *
- M. White
* * *
Wade
The living room walls closed in on me as I sat with my sisters in my arms, wishing I were strong enough to save them.
They clung to each other and cried as I held them together as best I could. Sadie's face was in my mind, the words echoing as I spoke them … it was a moment I'd never forget, as much as I wanted to.
As their emotions poured out of them, I found that I was numb, razed from all that had happened. A few hours, a few words, and everything had changed. I could hear the clock ticking, the sound taking on a new meaning as I imagined what would come, as I realized how little time I had left.
Time, time, time.
The word pulsed around me, a chant that ticked up my heartbeat with every second that passed. I didn't know how we would survive this, didn't know how we'd ever get through the next few weeks with him or the rest of our lives without him.
It was a long time before the shuddering stopped and their breaths evened, tears ceasing for the moment.
Sadie looked up at me, her gray eyes shining like I had all the answers. She had no idea that I didn't have a single one.
I cupped her cheek and wiped a tear away with my thumb. "Do you want to see him tonight?" I asked gently.
She nodded, chin quivering.
"Visiting hours end soon, so we should go."
"O-okay," she said, and I stood, helping my sisters up.
"I just … I need a minute, okay?" Sadie blinked, eyes darting between us. She was so young in that moment, and I saw her as a little girl again instead of seventeen, needing my comfort after a skinned knee. If only this were so simple. If only.
Sophie smoothed Sadie's dark hair. "Whatever you need. Just let us know when you're ready."
Sadie nodded and left the room, and Sophie turned to me, shaking her head.
"How did this happen, Wade? How did we get here?" The words were agony.
"I don't know, but I feel like I've stepped into hell." I took a deep breath and let it out slow, but the pressure remained in my chest, heavy and aching. "I'm gonna go put my stuff in my room before we leave."
"Okay. Maybe I'll make some coffee."
"Good idea." I grabbed my duffle bag and headed upstairs. At the mention of coffee, exhaustion washed over me — I'd been awake close to twenty-four hours at that point, and adrenaline had carried me through it. But now, nearing the end of what had been the longest day of my life — and I had endured some very, very long days — I didn't know how much more I could take.
My boots might have weighed a hundred pounds each as I climbed the stairs, turning down the hall and into my room.
Nothing had changed except me.
I dropped my green canvas bag into the closet, leaving it there to deal with later, parking it under my old letter jacket and other clothes that had been mostly forgotten. And I sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the room.
Everything reminded me of her.
There were so many reasons why I'd avoided coming home over the years, and this room was one of them. When I left, I left part of me here, part of me I'd never quite found again. War changes you that way.
I left here without Elliot, and that alone hardened my heart. But nothing could prepare me for war. The things I'd seen, the things I'd done … when you're over there, you can't think about life back home. You can't think that everything is going on as it always did, that your friends are out working desk jobs or going to school, hitting happy hour at bars, living a normal life.