Bourbon Nights - Shari J. Ryan Page 0,89

Melody to take the kids home. She doesn’t ask any questions; she just does as I ask after kissing me on the cheek.

I’ve been sitting here on the curb of the intersection, trying to understand how I saw something completely different than what happened. How did I get things so wrong? Why was someone drunk in the morning?

I open the box full of memories because it is supposed to heal me, but I don’t know how long this healing process takes or how many people will be affected by it. The therapist says we can’t put a time limit on mental healing, but I wonder if he says that as a milder way of saying “never.” I’m not a stranger to what wars have done to men and women in the past. The battered souls live among us with faces made of bravery and courage, hiding the pain buried so deeply inside.

If I close my eyes, I can feel the sand scuff beneath my boots, and I smell the rotting flesh float through the thick air, smoke filled air. There’s dirt on my hands, and they feel like they haven’t been washed in a month. Maybe someone is coming up behind me for a surprise attack. Perhaps the accident was a distraction to punish me for all I’ve done in the past. I shouldn’t just sit here. I should keep moving. It’s the only way to survive.

I stand up from the curb and walk for over an hour until I reach the hospital. I want to check on the innocent man from the accident.

I don’t know his name.

The registration desk can’t help me.

They tell me to take a seat.

So, I sit, and I stare at the wall until Melody comes to get me. Somehow she knew where I would go, but I’m not sure how.

Now I’m in my kitchen, drinking a glass of water so that I can flush the thoughts from my mind.

“Brett,” Melody says. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

I’m not okay. I shouldn’t be okay. I killed people. I squeeze the glass in my hand until it breaks, feeling the shards slice across my palm. It was an accident.

I look up at the terror in Melody’s eyes. “I didn’t mean—”

She remains calm, though I can see the thoughts running through her beautiful eyes. She leaps at me with a towel and takes the glass carefully from my hand, then wraps the towel around the laceration. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“I should have just stayed there. I’m being punished.”

“Brett, don’t talk like that.”

“I didn’t mean to break the glass.”

“I know. It was an accident,” she says.

“What about the kids?”

“I’m going to go put them in the car and take them to my mom’s. Sit down on this stool until I come back for you,” she says, pulling the stool out from beneath the kitchen island.”

“It’s okay.”

I watch Melody escort the kids out of the house, doing all she can so they don’t see their wreck of a father sitting in the kitchen with blood pooling out of his hand. “What’s wrong with Dad?” Parker asks.

“He just needs a couple of stitches. You know how Dad’s a big baby when it comes to blood, right?” Melody says.

“Yeah, he’s the biggest baby I’ve ever met,” Parker replies.

Melody is stronger than me.

I need her more than she needs me.

She’s my hero—the real kind of hero.

Melody races back inside and wraps her hands around the towel. “Ready?”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her.

“For what?”

“Today.”

Melody places her hand on my cheek. “It’s just another day. There’s always tomorrow.”

“It’s never going to stop,” I tell her.

“And if it doesn’t … I will get really good at picking you up when you fall.”

“How are you so strong?” I ask her, standing from the stool.

“Eh, I pushed out a ten-pounder. You can take the blame for that, okay?”

“You did that like a champ,” I say.

“Okay, let’s get moving before you lose any more blood.”

“I love you,” I remind her.

“You know I love you, Brett, and you might not think so, but this is the longest you’ve gone without one of these flashbacks. I call it progress even though you’re beating yourself up right now.”

She’s right about how long it’s been. It’s the longest I’ve gone. I’ve kept track. It’s been six months. “I’m trying my best.”

Mrs. Quinn took the kids from the car and blew me a kiss as Melody thanked her with a hug. She has Quinn waving at us as we back out of the