I stood suddenly, and the movement made him look up.
“Damn you, Sebastian!” I yelled. “I’m not leaving you! You’ll never get rid of me, so you can just stop trying. Right now.”
He looked away again.
“Whatever,” he said.
That was a bad, bad day. I wondered how much further we had to fall—and I dreaded finding out. But I also realized that although Sebastian sniped and snarled at me day after day, he needed me to be with him. I decided to stay in Maryland: Alice would be able to continue looking after the bungalow.
We’d manage—somehow.
Seven days later, the Physical Evaluation Board Liaison Officer, a friendly but efficient woman whom I knew as Joan, told Sebastian that the PEB would, ‘authorize his disability separation, with disability benefits, as he had been found unfit and his condition was incompatible with continued military service’.
Sebastian was no longer a US Marine.
CHAPTER 17
The day Sebastian came home should have been the happiest of our lives, but my love was broken in body and spirit.
I arranged for a taxi to pick us up from the airport. Nicole and Jenna had both offered to drive us, but I thought it would be better for him to have a quiet return; Sebastian was in no shape to meet my friends, no matter how well-meaning.
Alice had been to the bungalow to clean and air it, and had also promised to stock up the fridge.
I’d booked a wheelchair to take Sebastian from the plane to the airport’s entrance, but he refused to even consider it.
“I’m not fucking using it, Caro, so just drop it,” he snapped at me.
I quietly acquiesced, and watched his slow and painful struggle through the terminal building, using the crutch to support his right leg, which still couldn’t bear his weight.
The taxi driver chatted away during the journey back to Long Beach, and I tried to keep up a desultory conversation while Sebastian stared out of the window.
I thought I detected a slight change in him when he saw the ocean, today a sharp, slate-blue under the August sunshine, but then he closed up and the shutters on his emotions came crashing down again.
When we arrived at my bungalow, the driver collected our bags from the trunk and deposited them on the porch. I stood back while Sebastian struggled from the car, desperate to help him, but knowing he’d hate it and resent the interference.
“Dude, what happened to your leg?” the driver suddenly asked him.
“Bomb.”
“Say what?”
“Bomb: got blown up.”
“Cool!”
I thought Sebastian would smile or roll his eyes or give some indication of the callousness of the driver’s comment, but he didn’t. The light had gone out of his eyes and I didn’t know what it would take to rekindle it.
We’d find a way. We’d always find a way.
But it was hard.
Sebastian was exhausted and in pain. He made his way to my couch and lowered himself carefully, biting back the groan that rose to his lips.
“Do you want to lie down, tesoro?”
I badly wanted him to make a joke, to say something about me wanting to get him into bed as soon as possible, but he didn’t. He just shook his head.
“I’ll stay here for a while.”
“Okay.” I hesitated. “Well, I’ll put your bags in the spare room for now. We can go through them later.”
He didn’t answer.
I shoved his duffel bag and backpack under the bed. I decided I’d unpack these when he was asleep. He didn’t need to see his uniforms now. I didn’t even know if he’d want to keep them.
When I walked back into the living room, he was staring into space.
“Are you hungry? Would you like some pasta?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I bit back my words, which would have insisted that he eat something.
He’d lost weight, a lot of weight, his face gaunt, and his beauty, which had always seemed so tangible, had become ethereal.
“Maybe later,” I said, softly.
He didn’t answer.
I felt odd and ill at ease being home after such an extended absence and Sebastian’s silent, volcanic presence intimidated me.
“This wasn’t what I’d planned,” he said.
“It’s not what either of us had in mind, but we’ll deal, won’t we?”
“I thought I’d be carrying you over the fucking threshold,” he said, his face twisted with disgust.
“That doesn’t matter, Sebastian. We…”
“Yes, it does fucking matter, Caro!” he shouted, making me jump. “It really fucking matters! Christ, can’t you understand something as fucking simple as that?”
I blanched, his anger cutting me to the core.
“I’m sorry, Sebastian, I just…”