Prologue
Prologue
"Doc, are you sure you're okay?" I gave Keith a reassuring smile, even though I knew I looked like shit. My head was pounding; the pressure behind my eyes was becoming unbearable. I sipped my caramel iced coffee, hoping the caffeine would ease some of the pressure in my head. His thick black eyebrows rose as his green-grey eyes looked me over. His unpleased scowl caused his frown lines to deepen.
I guess the oversized shades weren't fooling anyone. I rubbed my stomach and readjusted myself in my seat; the mahogany chair creaked as I squirmed, trying to find a better position. The baby kicked, voicing his discomfort, too. "Please continue, Keith." I uncrossed my legs for what seemed like the tenth time and gestured for him to continue. "How was your 4th of July? At last week's session, we discussed adjusting your meds in case the fireworks triggered any issues.
"So that's how we're playing this, Doc?" Keith sat up. His blue button-up was wrinkled from lounging on the sofa. His large hands slid down his shirt, attempting to smooth the wrinkles. His restlessness mirrored my own as he adjusted his collar.
"Can I be frank with you, Laura?"
I smirked. Only Keith could get away with calling me that. "Let's keep this professional, Keith!" I gave him a mock warning as I nodded. The gesture caused a wayward strand of curly brown hair to escape my messy bun.
His deep, tanned skin was about three shades brighter than my buttery, toffee complexion. It made his features a bit more daunting. "Why do you stay?" His hands were gripping the top of the couch's cushions. The tension in his arms and shoulders was visible.
I looked down, avoiding him. My eyes fell to the scribbles I had carelessly written by my hand. Keith had been a patient of mine for years now. However, the ease with which we conversed and talked during his weekly sessions had caused us to blur the lines between professionalism and friendship. "Keith, we have to stay focused. You've been managing your PTSD, and it's been what three years?" I flipped through my chart, hoping we could steer the focus away from me.
He suddenly moved closer and removed my glasses before I could object. Keith's jaw clenched, as he stood, no longer able to look into my blackened and bruised eyes. I inhaled deeply; the baby was fluttering around because of my distress. I could feel my heart thumping. Even the clock's silent ticks seemed unnaturally loud. I knew what he would say hell; it was what everyone on the outside kept saying. They just could not understand. Keith looked at me while rubbing his hand over his stubbled jaw. "Doc, do you know why I chose you?" I nodded. "Yes, you told me that the first time you saw me, you didn't feel judged. You thought I was open, real, and genuine." He gave a nod of approval and then sat on the armrest of the couch. "I saw your eyes. I knew that you were both flawed and broken, just like me…." I grasped my notepad, not pleased with his judgment of me, but he went on anyway. "I saw the wounds you carried and still carry. See these other doctors….," He stood again and walked towards my framed degrees. "They don't understand us, Doc! For three long years, you helped mend the broken man within me. The man that this government used up and spat out after I was no longer of use." He tapped the side of his head where a nasty keloid scar stretched from his ear to the base of his neck. "I sacrificed a lot, to only be rewarded by betrayal." Hell Laura, I can't even shoot that well anymore." His face took on a haunted expression as he peered out the window, silently watching the crowds coming and going thru Millennium Park.
I scribbled a few words down onto my notepad, recalling the information from past sessions. He held a high rank within the Special Forces. However, he was deemed unstable and discharged after being wounded on a failed mission. He enlisted at eighteen. Despite it all, the years had been kind to him. He barely looked thirty-nine. His handsome features often hid his social awkwardness and inability to adapt to what he considered mundane civilian life.
He made eye contact with my reflection before continuing. "You see…" He paused. "My Fight is over, but yours has just begun."
I tilted my head towards him in confusion. "What do you mean?" Keith smirked and sat back down. "We're going to need a plan, Doc."
