My Soldier: A Miliatary Romance (26 page)

“Avni, I know you hold high hopes that Levi will come out of this, but nothing is guaranteed. And even if he does—”

“When he does—
I'll be here for him, regardless.” Flaring my nostrils, I hated how the doctors were so dismal in their belief he'd wake up and be his normal self.

Miracles can happen, one did already.

The machines had been extinguished, his life line yanked from his soundless mouth.

Then it happened, the flat line hit a turbulent bump. The screen jumped to life, the thin green line darting up and down.

He wasn't gone yet.

He was breathing on his own.

“Avni, I know you want to believe everything will be fine. And trust me that's not a bad thing, but you need to prepare yourself for what his life might be like when—or if— he wakes up.” Folding his pen into his hand, Dr. Gough stepped to Levi's side. Lifting his lid, he shined a light into his pupil, then did the same with the other.

“Do his eyes look different? Is he responding to the light?”

“His pupil's are dilating, which is good. But we still don't know how much damage has been done to his brain. And until he wakes up, we won't know for sure.”

Collapsing into the chair beside Levi, I held the bump that had emerged in what seemed like over night. I was almost six months along, and finally able to really feel the baby kicking.

At first the flutters felt strange, it was foreign. And until you feel it for yourself, it's the most unexplainable sensation to have.

Grabbing Levi's hand, I pressed it firmly against my growing tummy. “Feel her, Levi? She's been kicking me all damn day. I think she might be a soccer player with how she handles my kidneys.” Giggling, I draped my head against his chest.

He was alive and breathing, he was still here. And each day he took stronger breaths, each day his heart beat harder.

I loved to listen to his lungs fill, to the thumping that beat not only in his chest, but in mine too. He didn't leave me, he held on.

Levi was stronger than I think anyone had ever realized. It wasn't his time, he wasn't ready.

And I thanked whatever force kept him here.

Deep down, I knew he wasn't out of danger, the doctors made that clear. But every day it seemed he grew firmer, cementing his life back into the world he wanted.

“So, I was thinking of names for our daughter—” Squinting my eyes, a delicate, barely visible twitch hit his hand. “Did you just move?” I sat watching, waiting to see if I had just imagined him moving his finger.

The longer I stared and nothing happened, the more I came to believe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. It wouldn't be the first time.

Last week I thought he smiled, but the doctors assured me it was just a rapid pulsation of his muscle. Completely out of his control, it was a glorified muscle spasm.

Come on, just open your eyes. Please! Just give us some sign you're still in there!

My heart would race every single time I made my way to the hospital, my brain would beg and plead for him to be awake. Anticipation of walking in, seeing him sitting up and smiling would eat away at my gut.

But it never came, he was always positioned exactly the same.

Except for the few times I was there during physical therapy to keep his blood flowing properly, or to make sure he didn't get any sores from being stagnant for so long.

Closing my eyes, I placed my head in the one spot I could hear him, his strong chest. Even without him moving for so long his muscles still felt like steel, they were strong. He was strong, I was strong.

All of this had changed me, changed me from the closed bud of a flower to an open bloom ready to heed the next sunrise. I went from scolding the world around me to welcoming it in all its forms.

The good, the bad, the hatred and the love. That was what life was, that was how I knew I was living.

And that was what Levi had been trying to tell me, trying to show me. He opened my eyes to a new dawn, and I wasn't about to let that light get snuffed out.

In a few months I'd be bringing another life into this world, and I don't think I ever prayed so much in my life for something.

I wanted Levi to be there, I wanted him to see our child as she took in her first breath, her first cry, her first everything.

Another swift, but visible jerk of his arm caught my fingers.

That wasn't my imagination. That was real, he moved.

My lungs froze as I shifted my eyes from his arm to his face. It still looked like he was sleeping, resting peacefully inside a deep deep dream.

A gentle flutter of his eyes behind his lids sent static across my skin, my hair shooting up with prickles.

He hasn't done that yet, he hasn't moved his eyes.

“Dr. Gough! Dr. Gough!” I yelled, jumping from my chair. My hands scanned his body, feeling for anymore movement, any twinge of his muscles taking shape in motion.

“Avni, is everything alright?” The doctor soared into the room, his jacket flowing behind him like a white cape.

“Levi... He moved, his hand, his arm, they moved.”

“Avni, it's probably just his muscles and their electrical pul—”

“No! Look at his eyes, he hasn't done that before.” My anxiety was in a race with my adrenaline. Veins were engorging with fire, solidifying with ice. My heart was racing and stopping between beats.

Dr. Gough hovered over Levi, his deep gray hair falling like feathers across his brows. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, jaw turning to the side.

Lifting his stethoscope, he spotted it across Levi's body, listening, and watching. It was as if he had forgotten I was there, his gaze fixated on his patient.

Moving around me like I was a ghost in the shadows, the doctor drifted around the bed in a mesmerized state of crisp clarity.

“Well? What does that mean?” My arms hugged my ribs, legs shaking beneath my waist.

Could he wake up? Would he wake up?

“It's hard to say, the rapid movement of his eyes could be another muscle spasm. All his vitals look good, and the electrical impulses in his brain are steady. So for now, we wait. That's all we can do. But he's a fighter alright.” Wrapping his stethoscope around his neck, he wrote in Levi's chart and headed back into the hustle and bustle of the hall.

Come on! Come back to me, Levi!

Slipping back into the seat that had claimed me for endless nights, I twined my fingers into his. I tried to touch him and talk to him as much as I could.

He was in there, locked inside his own head. But I felt him, I could feel him with me everyday.

And I wasn't giving up on him,
ever.

It didn't matter to me what form of Levi would come back, so long as he did. I would be right by his side, forever.

I would be there to care for him, to tend to him if he needed extensive help. If Levi woke up and needed me to feed him, clean him, care for him...

There was nothing that could push me away from him anymore. I would be there.

Leaning my head on the inside of my arm, I cuddled as close to his body as I could. After having to figure out how best to sit in that hospital recliner for months, I had it down to a science.

Snuggling against his arm, my eyes began to feel heavy. Pregnancy took one hell of a toll on my body. I could literally do nothing all day, and still feel like I ran a damn marathon. I was drained, achy, ankles starting to swell.

Ankles... I almost forgot what they looked like. My legs went from calf to foot, there was no more ankle popping out from anywhere.

Letting my tired body consume me, I fell to sleep in his arms. Just like I had so many times before, and it still felt perfect.

Isn't it strange how time can seem to fly when you're asleep? Or time could remain completely still, frozen in motion.

There were days I fell asleep and would be out for hours, then other days I would sleep for mere minutes and wake to think I was out forever.

A soft tickle hit my scalp, my hair sliding across my cheek like a spider web that's hidden and crosses your path. Fingers brushed through my hair, gently making their way down my neck.

A shiver broke across my body, my eyes opening slowly in a daze. The hand hit my back, gliding over my spine and crawling back up.

Pushing my eyes open, I searched the room behind me. But no outlines took shape, no one was standing over me.

But the hands, they continued to caress my neck, a thumb circled over my shoulder. Confusion filled my mind, a mix of daydreaming and reality fogged my vision.

I was being touched, but no one was there. Levi's mom wasn't coming back till later that evening, and my parents planned on coming up in a day or two.

What the hell? What is that?

Rubbing my eyes, I shook my head and smacked my face. I needed a coffee, decaf of course. I already had my allotted one caffeinated beverage for the day.

“You probably shouldn't do that. I bet it hurts.” A dry cracked whisper broke over my shoulder.

Tilting my head, I twisted around. And immediately burst into tears.

Shock, disbelief, happiness, and
fear
... It all hit me hard.

I had to be dreaming, this wasn't happening.

It had to be my prego brain taking hold and driving me into delusions.

Why? Why would my brain torture me with complete happiness?

When I wake up it's all going to be sucked away, and I'll be left wishing.

Fear, I hated fear. The one emotion I valued and banished to hell in one breath.

But I'm not dreaming.

Levi

F
uck!

My ribs burned with fear, my lungs were shriveling as sand ate up the oxygen around me. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening.

My savior raised his gun waist high, finger resting and twitching by the trigger.

Two men, dressed in completely ordinary clothing, stood before us. Their shirts were a little tattered, a little dirty. Their khaki pants still held a firm crease that rode down the center.

Nothing in their appearance gave away their true motives, they looked like any other men I would have seen walking the streets around here.

But that nothingness crumbled away to the steel death they both held in their hands. The barrels were fixed on our heads, the small openings grew in size as my eyes peered down the metal fire, freezing my feet in place.

We stood paused, the world around us melting away into an empty abyss.

Everything else near me faded, the sounds, the pops, the screams of the innocent. A gust of wind circled my ears, blowing soundless notes through my skull.

Was this it? Had everything I'd done led up to this very moment?

Flashes of my mother pierced my mind, flickering in a soft white light behind my eyes. The images mixed with the men in front of me.

Their emotionless caverns peered back at us, a blackened glare of nothing to lose. These two men had youth in their appearance, and death in their eyes.

They were lifeless, soldiers born into a world that lived without reason; that fought without remorse.

And we... We were their prey.

My savior brandished his weapon, yelling in their foreign language to leave. He screamed at them to go, his harsh words a broken mix of English and Dari tongue. His stern yells were peppered in fear.

But not fear of the men, not fear of his life...

Fear for them.

He let his mouth spew out caution, and gave those men every chance he could to turn and leave, to run away.

But they stood strong, guns raising higher. The soldier beside me met their standoff, inching closer with the his eye on the targets.

My fingers curled around the knife, nails digging deep into the leather wrap. I wanted to lift my gun, wanted to back up the man next to me.

But without his help, without my arm around his neck, I would've tumbled to the ground and been worthless by his side. I would've turned into target practice, a huge red dot might as well have been placed on my back.

One of the men bore a large scar across his cheek, his neck was dimpled in old explosive wounds. The flesh now healed and lighter than the rest.

He was barking at us, screaming with such demand that every word was followed by ravenous spit. He looked like a rabid animal,  foaming in a hatred he'd never fully understand.

And wouldn't dare to question.

He was going to kill us, plain and simple. We were the enemy there, we were there for him to hunt.

A glint from the sun drew my eye to the trigger on his gun, his finger wrapping over the trip that he planned to end our lives with.

I didn't know where the energy came from, or how the pain in my thigh suddenly dissipated into a forgotten memory.

Was it adrenaline? Fear? Resentment?

It could have been anything, or everything all at once.

I wasn't dying there like that. I wasn't going to let either of those guys take my last breath. It wasn't theirs to take.

It was mine to keep.

Lunging forward, I sliced my knife through the air, aiming at everything and nothing. The silence that had consumed me quickly dissolved as gunfire smashed the surface.

The flashes of the rounds pierced the air, the spent casings hit the ground. I was so in tune with everything around my body that I swear I heard the small metal tubes hit the sand with a snapping thud.

Looking down, I was hovering over the open-eyed crypt of my fallen enemy. My knife was lodged in his throat, his gaze still the same as when he was standing.

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder as my lungs began to finally breathe again. “Hite, let's move! Go!” His arm shoved me forward, tossing its strength around my back.

That was the first time I had killed a man by my own hand. The first time I took a life from feet away.

And if I hadn't... The face below me warped into mine, the realization sinking in that it was him or me.

It wasn't going to be me. Not a chance in hell.

But I was shaking, trembling from the shoulders down. My eyes were wide and stunned, lips drawn back in relief and regret.

Even if he was my enemy, he was someone's kin. He had family, he had a life outside the war. And it was my hand that stole it.