“Oh my . . .”
A tear dripped down Heather’s cheek and she swiped it away. Why was she sharing this now? “And then the bomb went off. Far enough away that no one else got hurt. Just him.”
“I had no idea.” Brooke’s sympathy—and shock—were tangible. “I knew you were there in the operating room—everyone knows that, thanks to the video—but I didn’t know the details. Why haven’t you told me this before?”
A gleam of hurt shone in her friend’s eyes and guilt stabbed Heather. “Because it brings on the nightmares,” she said, her voice soft. Sleeping tonight was going to be fun. Not. She was already mentally preparing for the nightmares heading her way. “After the bomb went off, I ran to him, not even thinking there could have been another bomb.” Her friends’ yells to stay back echoed in her memories. “He was still alive, even though he was missing part of his torso and an arm. His face was bloodied from the spray of his other wounds, but it was still beautiful, not damaged. I asked him his name and he said, ‘Abdul.’ Then he whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’ And passed out. He arrested a couple of hours later after surgery and we couldn’t get him back. There was just too much damage.” Heather shuddered, blinked. And found herself wrapped in Brooke’s arms. “I’m sorry,” she said and stepped back.
“I’m not. Well, not sorry that you told me. I’m very sorry for that poor boy and for you and everyone else who had to see the things they saw over there.”
“Nothing you didn’t see as well.”
Brooke shook her head. “No, I was much more sheltered. I saw some awful stuff, but that . . .”
Heather swallowed and fought another rush of tears. “One question haunts me.”
“Ask it.”
“Why can’t I throw the shirt away?”
Brooke frowned. “I’m still confused on the shirt.”
“Abdul’s shirt. After it was all over, I walked outside to get some air and found it on top of a trash heap, whole and untouched. Like his sweet face.” She bit her lip and gave a slight shake of her head. “I grabbed it and kept it.” She gave Brooke a sad smile. “It had been freshly washed and smelled like some kind of lemon detergent.” She paused. “It still does. It was familiar, though, like I’d seen it before. It had kind of a unique design on it that made it stand out, but I can’t remember where I might have seen it.” She shook her head. “Not that it matters. I just want to know why I find myself unable to get rid of it.”
“Well, I can offer my thoughts if you want.”
“Sure, why not? What’s the benefit in having a shrink for a friend if she can’t analyze you every once in a while?”
“Haha.” Brooke flashed her a small smile, then turned serious. “Seems to me that you’re still hanging on to that shirt as a way of hanging on to the boy.”
Heather pondered that. “But why? This will sound callous and I don’t mean it that way, but the truth was, I didn’t know him. He wasn’t any different than any other patient I wanted to save. I’ve lost patients before, and while I’ve grieved them, it hasn’t affected me like this.”
Brooke touched her hand. “This was different. Very different. He tried to save you. He died because he decided to warn you and protect you. I think a lot of it boils down to the fact that you had no control over the situation.”
That put a new perspective on things. One she’d have to think about. A lot.
A footstep behind them spun her around. Gina stepped into the kitchen and set her plate and cup on the counter. “I think I’m going to call it a day. This has been fun, and I appreciate everyone going to all the trouble to do this. It was a nice change of pace.”
“Of course,” Heather said, giving her friend a hug.
Travis walked in and raised a brow. “Everything okay?”
“Gina was just leaving.” Heather rubbed her friend’s arm. “We’re glad you’re home.”
“Thank you. Home. That’s the goal of everyone over there, isn’t it? To come home?” Grief shattered her expression for a brief moment. “I just wish Brad could have made it too.” She sucked in a breath and shot them a forced smile. “But it wasn’t to be. I’ll see you all later.” She gave them another wave and headed for the front door.
“Gina—”
Heather started to go after her, but Gina held up a hand. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for being so low tonight. This was incredibly kind of all of you, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” She sighed. “It was hard being without him overseas, but it’s even harder being in our home with memories everywhere. I just have to hope the house sells fast. So, please, don’t say anything more or I’ll lose it.”
Heather nodded, gave her another hug, and watched her leave. For a moment, her own grief was shoved aside while her heart hurt for her friend. Gina was right. Time would help.
“You’ve been gone awhile,” Travis said from behind her. “I came to check on you.”
“I’m all right,” Heather said. “Starting to deal with some things that I’ve put off, but I’ll be okay.” Before her stint in the Army, she might have questioned his motives—or been defensive at the idea that someone thought she needed checking up on.
Growing up in the foster system had taught her some hard life lessons. But this was Travis. He was a modern-day cowboy raised by parents who’d taught him to appreciate women—and protect them. Whether they needed it or not. It was sweet. He was sweet. “Thanks for asking, though.”
“Sure. If you need anything, just let me know, okay?”
Heather hesitated. She wasn’t so sure she couldn’t use a little protecting—or at least some help in figuring out who was following her. She prided herself in being independent, but everyone needed a little help sometimes, right?
“Get it through your head, brat. Don’t be a nuisance. Don’t ask for help. Don’t be needy or clingy. No one likes that. Learn to handle things yourself and be invisible, or nobody is going to want you.”
The words from the past echoed and she tightened her jaw. “I appreciate the offer. But I’m fine. Just overly tired and overthinking things. On that note, I’m going to head home. I have an early shift tomorrow.”
He nodded, his eyes shadowed, concern on his handsome features. “You’re more worried than you’re letting on. I can tell.”
He could? She forced a smile. “Well, worry never solved anything, did it? I’m going to go say my goodbyes.” She hesitated, then touched his hand. “Thanks for being a friend. And I’m sorry for the nasty bruise you’re going to have tomorrow.”
His return smile was just as strained as she figured hers was. “You’ll call if you need something?”
“Sure. I’ll call.”
She left to find the others, feeling his gaze on her back. And knew he saw through her lie. She wouldn’t be calling no matter how much she might want to.
Travis stepped back into the kitchen after watching Heather’s taillights disappear. The urge to go after her was strong, but he wasn’t sure she’d appreciate his interference.