I thought there might be a letter or a photograph inside, but I was wrong.
A lock of long, blond hair fell out. My hair. From ten years ago.
I stared up at her.
“This is mine—my hair. You kept it—all these years?”
“Yes, tesoro,” she said quietly. “It was all I had of you.”
I closed my eyes, holding the lock in my right hand. My heart was thundering in my chest and I was struggling to breathe.
“Caro, I don’t understand,” I gasped. “Why do you love me?”
“Just because … because the sky is blue and the sea is green.”
And then I broke.
Everything she’d told me was true. She’d loved me ten years ago, and all the years in between, and she still loved me now. And I didn’t know why; I didn’t understand, but maybe that didn’t matter, because she loved me, and I loved her and I always had. It had only ever been her. My Caro.
I started to cry, because the hope was so fucking painful. All the anger, all the frustration, all the hatred flowed out of me and I let my love for this amazing woman take its place. I felt the moment my heart began to heal like a physical heat inside my body. I fisted my hands over my eyes and cried. And then Caro was beside me. She fastened her arms around me, holding me tightly, and for the first time in a long time, I let her. She wrapped her arms around me and I could feel her forcing the darkness away, trying to heal me with her body, with her touch.
“I love you, Sebastian, please don’t push me away. I love you.”
“Oh God. I just don’t know what I’m doing any more; I’m so fucked up—I feel like I can’t fucking breathe. Don’t give up on me, Caro. Please don’t give up on me. I need you, baby. I love you so much. I’m so sorry…”
I don’t know how long we sat there—a long time, I think. She held me, just stroking my hair as I rested my head in her lap, her fingers running over my cheeks, tugging gently at the thick beard.
I sat up slowly, my body stiff, my eyes feeling hot and swollen. A part of my mind wanted to be ashamed that I’d broken in front of her; the rest of me didn’t care because I knew she loved me no matter what. That was the part I was going to listen to.
“It’s time to go out now, Sebastian,” she said softly, staring into my eyes.
A pulse of fear made me shudder, and I closed my eyes and swallowed.
“I don’t know if I can do that, Caro.”
“You don’t have to do this by yourself, Sebastian,” she said, stroking my arms gently. “We go together. Come on, tesoro. Together.”
I was so fucking terrified by the thought of going outside. Logically, I knew that there were no IEDs in Long Beach, no snipers waiting on roofs to finish the job. I knew that. My brain knew that, but my fucking body kept sending signals like I was going out on an op, with no body armor and no weapon. So yeah, I was shit scared.
Caro gave me a Yankees baseball cap to wear. I didn’t care which fucking team it was from, and I pulled it down over my eyes, trying to hide. Silently, she passed me my old biker jacket which had arrived in a trunk three weeks ago. I didn’t even know she’d unpacked it. When I tried it on, it hung loosely from my shoulders, reminding me that I was a scrawny fucker these days.
Then we were outside. I flinched as Caro shut the door behind me, and took several deep breaths, trying to force some calm into my body.
As I squinted into the sunshine, Caro took my hand, and I swear my heart instantly slowed to a more normal rhythm.
We walked along haltingly, not just because I couldn’t move fast, but because I couldn’t help myself checking the roof tops for rifle barrels sticking out, for suspicious faces in the crowds that ebbed and flowed around us.
I tried to reboot my brain. I tried so fucking hard.
And then…
I let myself enjoy the fresh air. I let myself breathe.
Caro didn’t let go my hand the whole time.
“There’s a café over there, Sebastian,” she said softly. “Why don’t we go have a coffee?”
My heart rate immediately shot up.
“I don’t know, Caro … sitting outside? I wouldn’t feel … safe.”
She squeezed my hand more tightly.
“Sebastian, you know rationally that there’s nothing to worry about. Let’s just try it for a couple of minutes: if you really can’t handle it, we’ll leave.”
My body jerked and hummed with adrenalin, but I didn’t argue. My eyes were darting everywhere as I sat cautiously in the plastic seat, my back to the wall.
The waiter came toward us and I flinched away from him, but Caro rested her hand on my knee, calming me.
“I’ll have an espresso. Sebastian?”
I was only barely aware that she’d spoken, so she answered for me.
“And a Bud Light,” she said.
The waiter walked away shaking his head; he was used to a bit of crazy among his customers.
I sipped my beer, forcing myself to relax. I’m not sure I ever did, but it wasn’t as scary as it would have been without Caro.
I won’t lie, I felt happier once we were moving again. I was shocked by how exhausted I was after such a short walk—a guy who used to march for 30 hours with a ninety pound pack on his back. Fucking pathetic.
Caro took me along the Boardwalk. I hadn’t been there before. Despite the large numbers, I wasn’t freaking out too badly. People were laidback, strolling in the sunshine.
But then a roaring sound scared the crap out of me and I nearly hit the deck. I was shaking so badly. Jesus H Christ—it was just a kid on a skateboard. I was seconds from having a full-on panic attack.
“It’s okay, tesoro,” Caro said, holding my hand firmly as I panted and wheezed. “You’ll be okay.”
“Fuck, Caro,” I gasped.
By the time we reached the end of the Boardwalk, I began to relax a little more. Caro found an empty bench and we sat gazing at the ocean. I breathed in deeply, feeling calmed by the rhythmical motion of the waves. The ocean had always been my safe place when I was a kid—a place to get away from my parents. Seemed like it was still my safe place.
A couple of kids were playing on bodyboards, catching a few rides, shouting and laughing. That was something I knew. Something I understood. I leaned forward to watch them and I felt Caro relax against me.
For the first time in months, I put my good arm around her, feeling the soft warmth of her body as she snuggled against me.
“The ocean always reminds me of you, tesoro. It’s the same color as your eyes today.”
There was so much love in her voice that I was speechless. I didn’t know why; I didn’t understand it at all. But I didn’t have to. All I could do was lift her hand to my lips and kiss it gently, reverently.
“Caro.”
I breathed her name softly, like a prayer, because this woman had brought me back from hell.
A light breeze ruffled my hair and I could feel the sun on my face as we sat by the ocean. I felt I could breathe again. Live again.
“Thank you for this, Caro,” I whispered.
She smiled up at me.
“Ready to go home, tesoro?”
I nodded, and we stood up to walk home. Our home.
We went back a different, slightly less crowded route. I was still scanning the roofline and checking everywhere for unfriendlies—that wasn’t something I’d be able to turn off easily. But maybe I could stop feeling like I wanted hit the deck all of the time; you know, just control it a little more. I tried to keep my breathing slow, and I held onto Caro’s hand like she was the last life raft in an ocean of sharks. That’s how it was for me.
But then I felt her freeze, her fingers digging into my arm, and I immediately saw why. Three men with black hair, olive skin and dark eyes were arguing loudly outside a café. My brain immediately started working through threat triage—a mental checklist: weapons, nope; concealed weapons or bombs, nope; aggressive body language, nope—all in less than a second. Threat level low … and then I realized they were talking in Pashto.
Confused, I paused while my brain whirred and coughed. Had I really heard that? Pashto?
I listened more closely. Yep, definitely Pashto, definitely Afghans. And they were talking about … baseball. I did a double-take. Really? Baseball?