Keegan
“Keegan. Wake up.”
My eyes are closed, but I hear Blue’s ragged whisper. He’s holding me, just the way he was when I fell asleep last night.
His breath touches my cheek. “Keegan.”
For some reason, I don’t want to open my eyes yet. I want to stay like this, cocooned in Blue’s arms, warmed by his touch.
“Keegan, please. I have to talk to you.”
His voice is urgent and shaken. I look up into his agonized eyes.
I sit up too fast and groan at my bone-dry mouth and the headache pounding behind my eyes. I so should not have touched that tequila.
“Blue,” I croak, touching my throat, like that’s going to help, “of course.”
I press my hands to his face. “Talk to me.”
He wraps his hands around my wrists and closes his eyes briefly.
Then he gently pulls my arms away, squeezing my hands for a second before getting off the bed.
He starts walking in tense circles, hands cupping the back of his head. He’s wearing only the pants that he wears rappelling, the ones I’d teased him about having fashionably ripped knees.
He’d archly informed me his pants got their holes the old-fashioned way, by clawing up cliffs and scrambling over boulders.
Blue takes a deep breath and slowly exhales it.
“I know you’re exhausted,” he says. “But if I’m going to tell you this, I have to do it now. I can’t put it off anymore. It's making me crazy.”
I nod. He’s finally going to tell me what I’ve wanted to hear.
But right now, all I can think about is how badly I need to pee. And how thirsty I am.
“Sorry,” I say, shuffling awkwardly toward the bathroom. “Just give me a minute.”
I start to slide on the jeans that Blue must have taken off me last night, then decide not to bother.
It’s unlikely anyone is in the hall to see me in just my T-shirt and panties. Everyone’s probably still asleep.
I emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, gulping down a paper cup of water I’ve refilled twice.
I crawl back on the bed, propping up the pillows and tucking my legs under the covers.
Blue is still pacing.
Max curls up next to me, and I run my hand over his head and back.
Then I give Blue an encouraging nod. But the look on his face sends a prickle of dread over my skin.
“Do you want to sit down while we talk?” I ask, hating the trepidation in my voice.
Blue shakes his head. “I need to move around,” he says, drawing another deep breath.
After a long pause, he starts talking.
“I enlisted in the Army the day after I graduated from high school. Against my old man’s wishes, like I told you.”
He smiles faintly.
“And I loved it, Keegan. Every bit of it. I sailed through basic training. I loved the camaraderie and the sense of purpose it gave me. I couldn’t wait to get over there and, as cliched as it sounds, serve my country. I couldn’t wait.”
His voice trails off. He’s staring at the picture of his mother on the desk.
“I wanted to spend my life in the military,” he adds. “I wanted something totally opposite of what my father did with his life.”
Max, sensing Blue’s pain, raises his head and whines. I place a hand on his back to comfort him.
“So anyway,” Blue goes on, clearing his throat and shifting his gaze to the guitar in the frayed red chair. “The names on the guitar,” he nods toward it, “those guys, we were all in the same unit.”
He swallows, then pushes his fingers through his hair. “We were close, Keegan. I’d…I don’t have any siblings. I’d never had that kind of bond with anyone."
“And what we did over there mattered,” he goes on. “It meant something. I mean, it wasn’t all perfect. It wasn’t all good. I saw some stuff I never want to see again. But— “
His face crumples. “They were good guys. They were the best.”
I toss the covers aside and start to get out of bed, wanting to comfort Blue. But he holds up a hand to stop me.
“No. Please. Just stay there. Let me get this out.”
I reluctantly push my legs back under the covers. Max is whining again.
Blue cups the back of his head with his hands and resumes circling the room.
“The base we were assigned to was close to this village and…it’s a long story, but there was this aid worker, a woman from Finland named Venla.”
He pauses, staring out the window through the broken blinds.
The rising sun turns his blue eyes silvery, reminding me of the frosty surface of the ponds at my grandmother's ranch during the winter.
“Venla tried to help the kids that lived nearby. And there was this Afghan girl named Aziza that Venla got to know. She had four older brothers.”
His voice dips, and he starts speaking faster.
“I was assigned at one point to assist Venla, and then…Aziza’s brothers were trying to force her to marry a much older man. They threatened to kill her if she didn’t do it. And they would have done it.”
Blue’s face tenses. “She was 13 years old, Keegan. A child. She ran away. She came to the base. And Venla tried to help her. She…and then I tried to help, too.”
I’m barely breathing. This story is not at all what I was expecting to hear.
Blue squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.
And then, still walking in circles, he tells me the rest of the story.
When he finishes, I sit there with my mouth open.
“Oh, God,” I gasp. “Oh, Blue.”
I get out of the bed and move toward him, my arms open.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “That is so terrible. Oh my God.”
I want to envelope him in the biggest, warmest hug I can muster. But again, he puts out a hand to stop me.
“I haven’t told you all of it yet, Keegan.” His voice is hard, a little distant.
I sink back on to the bed, alarmed by the agony etched on his face.
“Blue, it wasn’t your fault. The guys in your unit, they were killed in an attack. You couldn't have known that would happen.”
Blue’s shaking his head, his lips curled in disgust. “You don’t understand. You just don’t understand.”
I push my hair away from my forehead, frustrated by his tone. “Then help me understand,” I say.
He spins away from me, dragging his fingers down his face.
“They were out there on that road looking for me. Trying to keep my stupid, sorry ass from getting in trouble. They died because of me. Don’t tell me it wasn’t my fault.”
He’s wringing his hands, staring again at the photo of his mother as I watch him, trying to figure out what to say.
I still don't entirely understand what happened over there. But I know that three American soldiers died. And that Blue blames himself for it.
Several long, painful moments of silence tick by.
“And that’s not all,” he goes on finally, his face a mask of pain, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“I lied about what happened, Keegan. I lied about the whole goddamn thing.”
The self-loathing in his voice stabs through me.
“I let them think that I…I fucking lied to my commanding officer. I let them tell that lie to the families.”
My mouth falls open again. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to think.
“I didn’t have the guts to tell anybody the truth,” he sobs.
“Blue,” I whisper.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard and lets out another breath.
“I’m telling you all this now because...because I love you,” he goes on. “Because I don’t want there to be anything between us.”
He leans against the desk, his hands fisted.
“And because I want you to know exactly who I am. Exactly what I am.”
I stand there in shocked silence, blinking back tears.
Finally, I find my voice. “Blue, you need to see somebody. You need to talk to a professional, a therapist.”
He glares at me, shaking his head. "I can't tell anybody about this. You can't tell anybody about this."
“You need help,” I go on. “You shouldn’t have to carry this on your shoulders. You can talk to...it would be confidential. It wasn’t your fault. You— “
He slams his fists into the desk.
“Stop saying that!” he shouts. “Stop saying it wasn’t my fault!”
Now I can’t hold back my tears. I swipe my fingers over my eyes to clear them and take a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
Blue squeezes his eyes shut again, like he’s trying to block out the sight of me.
“I'm sorry,” he says after a moment, his voice low and hollow. “Look, I need to be alone right now.”
“Blue…I—”
“Please, Keegan,” he begs, eyes still closed, his face a mask of pain and regret. “I shouldn't have told you. I...it was a mistake. Please, just leave me alone.”
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