I grabbed a linen set and went back to the bedroom. Ten minutes later, I was throwing the sheets and pillows off the bed. Making a bed was something every soldier was expected to do from the very beginning. Tight corners, smooth sheets. It was second nature to me, something I could do without thinking.
Except now I couldn't.
I'd been a soldier, a man who ran into the thick of danger to save people. I'd been in charge of the lives of my soldiers. I'd taken pride in my accomplishments as a soldier, and now I couldn't even make a fucking bed.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I was too proud of what I'd accomplished and now it was time to pay the price. Maybe I needed to be reminded that all I'd done wasn't enough to make up for everything else in my life.
I yanked on a pair of sweatpants and headed down to the kitchen. There had to be some alcohol somewhere in this fucking house. I knew it wasn't a good idea to mix it with the pain medication I was taking, but at this point, I didn't give a damn.
I just wanted out. Out of this house. Out of this life. I couldn't live like this. The shell of the person I'd been. I was too tired to keep fighting. That's what Father O'Toole didn't understand. Couldn't understand.
I was just so damn tired.
Chapter Seven
Nori
Mom and Dad were surprised, to say the least, when I called them this morning to ask if we could have dinner when I got off. We didn't really get together. Ever. Birthdays and holidays were split between the two of them. I always went to them, scheduling my time equally between them on special occasions. We hadn't been together, the three of us since...I actually couldn't think of when.
I didn't tell either of them that the other would be present, but I did have them both coming to my place. I usually went to them so I felt certain they were both suspicious. This was their first invitation since I'd moved in. Even then, they'd helped me on different days, a gesture I’d appreciated at the time because I hadn't wanted to play referee. Whenever the two of them were anywhere near each other, someone had to take on that role.
I made sure to leave work on time, but only part of that was because I wanted to get back to my apartment before my parents arrived. The other part was because I didn't want to talk to anyone about the decision I'd made. I'd spoken with the people I needed to, gotten my vacation time approved – it helped that I was one of those people who piled up time off until the powers that be insisted it be taken – and let the hospital know that there was a chance I might not be returning.
I knew it was rude and unprofessional of me to not give a two-week notice and work my scheduled shifts, but I'd explained the extenuating circumstances and they'd been very understanding. Especially after they'd spoken with Father O'Toole. I didn't know what he said to them, but whatever it was eliminated any protests about my sudden departure.
The father booked my flight almost immediately after I agreed to try things out for the duration of my two-week vacation. It was an open-ended return ticket, meaning that I technically didn't have a specific date by which I needed to make a decision. I didn't know if it was because he was a man of faith, or simply an eternal optimist, but he seemed to think that I'd be staying until X was all better.
I wasn't sure if that was possible, either me staying or X being better, but I was determined to try.
But I wasn't only doing it for him. I realized that even as Father O'Toole was trying to convince me to go. I was concerned about X, and I was willing to do whatever was necessary to help him, but I'd been hit by a thought as I was trying to decide what to do.
This was my way out.
I still loved my job, but it took a toll. My parents weren't acting worse than usual, but after all these years, I was tired of it. Tanner and I were on good terms, but I couldn't go to him when I was stressed out anymore. And I didn't see that stress lessening anytime soon.
When Tanner and I broke up, I'd had the thought that this was the beginning of the change I wanted. I needed. This could be part of it as well. Getting away from my parents so they'd have to deal with each other instead of using me as the go-between. Taking a break from my job and trying something a bit different. I was sure working with X wouldn’t be a picnic, but it would be a change of pace. And if I didn't like it, I could always come back.
I hurried home and reminded myself to find my car title and put it in my ‘if I don’t come back’ folder. My car wasn't exactly the nicest thing in the world, but it was worth at least a couple hundred. If I came back, I'd have enough to buy a better one. If I didn't, my parents could split the money.
I hadn't really packed much of anything last night or this morning, but I wasn't planning on taking much either. Not when I wasn't sure how things would go. Besides, Father O'Toole had said that, at least for a while, I'd be staying in the house, which meant I wouldn't need any furniture.