“I feel the same way. But the pain you’ve caused me and living with constant suspicion is not something that I want. It just isn’t. Maybe we should take a break for a while, while you figure out why you can’t be honest with me.”
“No, El, dammit. I know why, it’s the PTSD. I’ll face it! I’m ready to! But please, please don’t fucking leave me.” His hands are wrapped so tightly around mine. But I have to pull away. I have to protect myself.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I swear I’ve lost at least ten pounds. But working out right now is the last thing on my mind. All that consumes me is Elania and how I can make things right with her. Removing my bandage from where I got shot, the wound is almost healed. I decide to leave it off. The tape irritates the shit out of me, and today, I don’t need any distractions.
Walking into my closet, I get dressed and take a moment as I do so to pray. I haven’t prayed since I was a POW. But it helped me then, so I’m hoping it will do the same now.
Grabbing my car keys and phone, my stomach is a mess. I head to my car, regretting not eating today. But that’s been a habit for me lately. It’s 10:13am and I told El, I’d pick her up at 10:30. I make the quick trip to her place, all the while, I’m lost in my own thoughts. It’s as if I’m in a trance.
I shake my head to clear the fog as I pull up to her house ten minutes early. Walking up, I don’t know whether or not I should knock or go in. I realize then how ridiculous I’m being. Elania is mine. Yeah, we are going through some shit, but she hasn’t completely left me, not yet. I need to be a man and face what’s in front of me today if I want to hold on to her and what we have.
“Baby?” I call out walking inside.
“I’m upstairs,” she yells down.
Her house smells amazing, the same way she does. My mind goes all over the place, thinking about how so recently I fucked her on this exact couch. Walking upstairs, she is doing her hair. I don’t waste this opportunity and walk right up to her.
“You look gorgeous,” I tell her wrapping my arms around her waist and looking at her reflection in the mirror.
“Thank you,” she answers shyly.
“Did you sleep okay?” I ask, knowing she has been having a hard time without us staying together.
She shakes her head and I kiss her neck. She sets her flat iron down and watches my lips in the reflection. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I move it out of the way, drenching her sweet skin with the love and adoration of my kisses.
She lets out a deep breath, exhaling heavily and I hold on to the hope that we will make it past all of this shit.
“Are you ready?” she asks, stopping my kisses from proceeding any further. I nod my head, a tad disappointed. But knowing that she only stopped me because she can’t trust herself around me helps. That’s why we aren’t spending the nights together. She says if we do, then she will just give in and we will move past everything without handling what the real problems are. Normally, I’d push for nights together anyway. But I want a future with El and if I don’t face my issues, it won’t be possible.
Heading out, we get into my car and make the trip to Roger’s office. He was very happy when I called and told him that we wanted to see him together. He said this is the first step towards me really facing my PTSD. He warned me, that more than likely, I wouldn’t agree with what he had to say. But given that the current treatment he and I have done together seems to have failed me, I’m willing to hear his plan, whatever it might be.
Right now, I guess his plan is all I have to hold on to for my future. It’s something that I am leaving up to him and El to decide. And believe me, giving that control away scares the motherfucking shit out of me. I’ve held on to all control since the moment I was found in Afghanistan. But for El, I’ll do anything.
Neither of us says much and this is what scares me. When I am with her now, she’s so much more closed. She’s not the El that I used to know. She’s different.
“Are you ready?” I ask her.
She nods her head looking at the tall building next to us.
I get out of the car as well, shaking away the anxiety before we head up. Roger’s receptionist greets us with a smile and to my surprise, tells us to just go into his office. That never happens. But the door is half open. I knock once, holding El’s hand tightly in mine. She smiles at me as we stand there and it gives me a sense that we will get through all of this.
Roger answers right away, “You can come in, Nathaniel.”
Elania smirks at me and I know why. Roger stands as we enter with a smile on his face.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Elania,” he says shaking her hand.
“Same to you,” she responds.
“Please, have a seat,” he directs us to his leather couch that I have spent so much time on. “How are you both holding up?” he asks.
We nod our heads and I sense that Elania is nervous. I saw Roger yesterday and filled him in about everything, so that a lot of the details didn’t need to be rehashed in front of El.