His Mistrust, Her Silent Sacrifice

he Fort Henderson PX hummed

through the afternoon l

's trying to ste

tube of "Desert Rose"

s of a fog induced by a traumatic

oor, stared with wide eyes, hi

hat Captain Turner's wife,

urner, Sarah's husband,

s a mask of

t ask qu

t look a

ingers biting into her skin, a

attered to the

base housing unit, t

of papers onto the

ce pa

e said, his voice flat, devoid of t

embarrassment. It's affec

with the force o

r cognitive functions snapping back into pla

g understanding of what her life had bec

ith a venomous envy, had subtly nudged he

e, had reached hi

d, the man who had promised her dying

ere hard,

ng day, his warm smile, th

clear, contrasted cruelly with

ce trembling, "I... I'm be

ff with a ha

there's an incident, you're 'better,' y

her. The divorce

as a physical a

into the small living

se. I expect you to have read

slammed b

en chair, the cheap woo

e papers. His signature was a

hem up, her

but the message was clear: "irret

couldn't lose him. Not now, whe

nd the small, n

a testament to the months,

over her. This wasn't

r parents. He had lo

that love, th

ve hardened

win. She wouldn't let th

o Mike she was bac

divorce papers s

this house. Then, s

kitchen, scrubbing

to the bathroom, then

ck – not just of her TBI-induced co

sudden impact

nst the wall, her breath

e alive, lucky to

ection in the newly cl

s under her eyes, but her inherent beauty, t

reliability – that wasn't

ury was healing.

washing away the grime and th

towel, she felt a sliver

st of hers were in a j

bedroom, to Mike' s

x of soap and starch,

table undershirts and a pair of his P

yness, an almost girlish emb

timate, wearing his

or opened. M

r throat. He wasn't supp

in the middle o