“So, when we got the puppy, my father joked that she looked just like the bottom of one of my mother’s biscuits. Mom agreed and that was her name from then on. She had a really good sense of humor. That dog was the best too. She was super high energy and loved to go outside and play. We could bring her to the lake, and she’d get in the water and splash around with us. But then she would sleep in my bed. And if I was sick, she wouldn’t leave my side. She lived for sixteen years.”
“Wow,” I said. “You got a good life with her.”
A hint of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “I did. She was great.”
As we walked, we continued to talk, learning more about each other through little bits about our lives. Aiden didn’t open up to me as much as I was hoping he would. I didn’t pry, and I didn’t try to push him, but I’d been hoping he would at least offer me some more insight into who he was as a person and the life he’d lived before I knew him. But he offered me very little.
I was disappointed. For some reason, he wouldn’t let his guard down and let me in. I had held back from him at the beginning, but now that I had poured everything out to him and told him what was going on in my life, I thought he would be more willing to share more with me. I wasn’t sure what to do with the fact that he wouldn’t.
By the time we were done with our walk and headed back to the cabin, I decided to try to put it out of my mind and not try to force anything out of him. Right then, he was my only chance at survival. If he wanted to keep himself closed off still, I wasn’t going to fight with him about it. I didn’t want to fight with him. I needed everything to stay good between us and to go through all this the best way I could.
19
Aiden
I snapped awake, the scream still rattling my throat. I pushed myself to my elbows, eyes wide as I scanned the room. Sweat stuck the sheets to my back, and I tossed them away from me as I got to my feet, ready to fight. Ready to survive.
But the desert was gone. So was the building, the fire, the blood. My gun had been replaced by a pillow. My uniform replaced by a soft T-shirt and light sweatpants. The stifling heat replaced by cold wooden floors beneath my feet. The lone private left alive, counting down the last seconds of his young life, replaced by the terrified, curled-up body of Desiree, sheets pulled up around her as she looked at me with a combination of fear and recognition.
I collapsed to the floor, pulling the pillow tight to my chest. The compression felt comforting, and I leaned into it, shoving my face into it as well. Tears that I refused to let fall down my cheeks were dabbed by the fabric on the pillow. It wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last.
“Aiden,” Desiree said, her voice cracked with fear but attempting to be strong. Attempting to be understanding. “Aiden, what’s wrong. What do you see?”
She knew. She had to. It wasn’t like I hid memorabilia from my days in the service. Especially in my bedroom. She knew I had served and that it stuck with me. That I chose this cabin in a mountain not because I just liked mountain air, but because I needed to be away. From people. From life. From everything.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “I just had a bad dream. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me about your dream? It will help you get back to sleep.”
“No. Sorry. Just… no.”
“Okay. That’s okay. Come back to bed. Come on.”
She pulled the sheet up, inviting me in. I looked up from the pillow and nodded. Still holding the pillow to my chest, I crawled in beside her, turning my back to her and lying on my side.
“I don’t even remember it anymore,” I lied. “It was just a stupid nightmare.”
“Okay,” she said, rubbing my back. “Do you want me to touch you or leave you alone?”
“You can touch me. It was just a bad dream, is all.”
She curled up beside me, not around me, but touching her arm to my back. The bottoms of my feet rested against the side of her leg.
I lied to her. I remembered every single detail of that dream. I remembered it because it wasn’t just a dream, it was a memory too. Sometimes things happened differently than they had in reality. Sometimes they happened exactly like they had. Sometimes I could save people. Other times I couldn’t.