Gina Heslop
Returning from service in Afghanistan, I was eager to reunite with my husband, Aaron. However, my homecoming was far from joyful. As I entered our house, a strange silence filled the air, replaced by unfamiliar laughter coming from the living room.
There, I found Aaron with another woman. Our eyes met, and Aaron’s face turned pale. He stammered, “Catherine, why are you here so soon?”
I responded, “I live here. My tour was cut short. We lost soldiers, Aaron. Good people didn’t make it back.” His expression shifted to concern as he offered his condolences. I explained the ambush we faced and the lives lost. “I’ve been reassigned to home base for R&R. It’s standard after such incidents. Time to heal,” I said.
Aaron asked how I was holding up. “I’m here, aren’t I?” I replied, scoffing at the irony. “It feels like I abandoned them. I should have done more.” Aaron tried to comfort me, but his words only highlighted the growing distance between us. “I know I can’t control everything,” I continued. “That’s why I’m home. To find some peace. But now, even my home feels like a battlefield.”
Aaron admitted feeling pushed away by my career and assertiveness. “I felt alone,” he confessed. “She made me feel wanted. It wasn’t right, but I felt so alone.”
“Alone,” I scoffed. “Feeling alone led you to betray our home? I clung to the thought of you, of us, to survive out there, and this is what I come back to?”
Regret filled his eyes, but the chasm between us had grown too vast. I turned away, stepping back outside. The sunlight hit my tear-streaked face as I tried to cleanse myself of the hurt and betrayal, using the garden hose to wash away the remnants of war and disappointment. My military discipline, usually a source of strength, now seemed to leave me adrift.
A neighbor, Larry, saw me and made a joking comment about a wet T-shirt contest. My patience worn thin, I snapped back. When he tried to apologize, I lashed out, punching him and breaking his nose. Realizing my actions, I apologized, explaining, “I’m just not myself.”
Larry, holding his bleeding nose, looked at me in disbelief. “You broke my nose!”
“I know,” I admitted. Aaron appeared at the door and insisted we talk inside. He sharply criticized my actions and declared our relationship over. “It’s not just about today. Your violence is a sign of everything wrong,” he said.
Realizing the depth of our estrangement, I packed my belongings. Regretful of my outburst, I fetched a bag of frozen peas for Larry. Offering the icy bag, I introduced myself and checked his injury. Larry and I began to talk, sharing our stories and finding common ground.
As our conversation deepened, Larry suggested continuing it over a drink. Hesitant but intrigued, I accepted. At the bar, we opened up about our lives, finding a connection in our shared experiences and aspirations. Larry’s admiration for my strength and integrity struck a chord within me.
When he invited me to spend the night at his place, I accepted, feeling a sense of mutual vulnerability. That night, we shared more than physical intimacy; we shared our dreams and fears. Larry’s unexpected proposal to marry him someday caught me off guard. “Larry, I—I can’t,” I whispered. The pain was palpable as I explained my complicated life.
“I’ll wait,” he assured me, though the decision was not easy for either of us. In the days leading to my return to duty, Larry and I grew closer, each moment precious. Saying goodbye was heartbreaking.
Back on base, the divide between my military life and the life I dreamt of with Larry felt vast. One day, I saw Larry among the new recruits. Shocked, I maintained my professional demeanor. “State your reason for enlisting,” I managed to ask.
“To serve and be part of something greater,” Larry responded, his eyes revealing his commitment to our country and to us.
“Very well. I expect you to give your best. The road ahead is demanding, and only the most dedicated will survive,” I said, my voice commanding though my heart raced.
“Yes, Sergeant Major! I intend to meet and exceed all expectations,” Larry replied. As I glanced at him, standing among those who chose to serve, I knew we were ready to face the challenges ahead.
