I feel trapped, desperate to escape, to get away from all of these people and noise, to walk outside and suck in a lungful of the cold night air.
I glance around, searching for a way out. Bodies fill my vision, people laughing and shouting, lights that are too bright, doing nothing to mask the way everyone is packed in here.
I take another sip of my beer, desperately needing something, anything, to calm down.
But it doesn’t work, the feeling of the room closing in on me continuing.
Then without warning, the song changes again, a loud crashing sound coming through the speakers and making me flinch.
“Are you okay?” Ruby’s voice sounds at my ear, her hand resting on my chest over my pounding heart that she has to be able to feel.
I shake my head.
“Come on, come with me,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the noise and out toward a small laundry off the kitchen and through the back door.
As soon as I step outside, I take a deep breath, my lungs filling with air. Closing my eyes, I force myself to stop, to stand still as I take another deep breath.
I can feel Ruby’s hand against my back, moving in slow circles as she stands close, her body pressed against mine. She doesn’t say anything, almost as though she knows I just need the silence right now, even as the sounds of the party still reach us.
After a few minutes, I open my eyes and see we are standing on a small patio area. I move toward the railing, leaning back against it just as Reid and Sienna walk outside.
“You okay?” Reid asks, concern in his voice and sounding far more sober than earlier.
I nod, wishing I was, but knowing I’m so far from okay, it’s not funny. I have no idea how I’m supposed to go back in there, how I’m supposed to stop myself from freaking the fuck out.
Reid gives me a tight smile, an expression on his face that says he understands everything I’m not saying as he glances quickly at Sie before turning back to me. “This party blows. Let’s head home and have a few beers there, yeah?”
Ruby’s arm slips around my waist, pulling me closer and I hear Sie say, “Totally. Way too many people here.”
I want to apologize, to tell them I’m sorry and that they should stay. But I can’t get the words out and so without saying another word, I turn and follow them off the back patio, Ruby beside me, unknowingly supporting me as the four of us walk back home.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ruby
There are some things we’ll learn as we go and large crowds outside of Caleb’s job will be one of those things we won’t be able to do. We know the sound of squealing tires is also a trigger, something we won’t be able to control like we can with crowds. There will be others and we’ll navigate through them.
He’s exhausted, almost like he’s spent the day running a marathon, and we only spent about ten total minutes at the party. My heart breaks for him and his struggles and this isn’t even close to the end. Each day will present new triggers and each day he’ll either have to decide if they’re worth working through or if he should just walk away like we did with the party tonight.
We’re lying in bed, Caleb’s breathing slow and quiet, and I know he’s starting to fall asleep, but it won’t come that easily. He’ll wake up soon after and not be able to fall back to sleep. He’ll stare up at the ceiling, trying not to move so he doesn’t disturb me, but little does he know, I’m generally awake too.
I don’t want him to know I stay up in case he needs me, watching him and hoping he can settle himself down enough to fall asleep, but if he can’t, I’m here.
The room is shrouded in darkness, the quiet of the night covers us and among the silence Caleb whispers, “Why do you think I can work at the bar, but I can’t go to a party?”
It’s a legitimate question and even though it’s his body and his mind, he can’t make sense of the situation. It’s common and to process and understand it, it’s good to talk through it. I’ve found that he is far more open to talking in the darkness of our bedroom as night creeps in.
“Your work is a controlled environment. You know what to expect. You know where the exits are, where it’s less crowded and you have the bar to separate you from the crowds if you need it,” I respond. “Most people with…” I pause for a second wondering if I should say it out loud or if it will make Caleb uncomfortable, but I throw caution to the wind and say it. “Most people with PTSD can function at work or in a place that’s familiar.”
“Do you think that’s what this is?” he asks, his words quiet and reserved.
“I do.”
I roll so I’m facing him, my hand resting on his cheek and even though it’s dark, I can tell the closeness of my body calms him. He leans into my hand and pulls me closer.
“Does that scare you?” he asks, and now it’s his honesty that slips through along with his worry and fear that what I’ve just told him will drive me away.
“Not at all,” I scoff, a bite to my words. “It’s like a broken arm. It needs time to heal. Would you be scared of someone with a broken arm?”
“A broken arm isn’t unpredictable,” he replies back, not in an argumentative way, but almost like he’s trying to refute my thinking.
“You’re not unpredictable. Situations are, but not you. And the way you respond to those situations is totally logical based on what your brain is telling you and based on what you’ve been through.”
“Anyone else would’ve left me,” he now admits, and I knew all along that was what he was concerned about.
“Caleb, don’t. It was one stupid, shitty party and I promise you, I didn’t miss out on anything. I’m not going to let you be the martyr here. Yeah, PTSD sucks, but most people are able to recover from it, especially if it’s not something that was long-term. Yours was not long-term and we’re going to work through it together.” I let out a loud huff, knowing if I allow him to wallow, it will only make things worse. “And if you can believe it, some people are even able to recover from it by just talking with family and friends.”
I give him a little shove, letting my fingers trail down his side and giving him a pinch. He laughs and I throw my leg over his hips so I’m now straddling him. Pinning his arms above his head, I lean down and kiss him hard, my lips crashing into his in a kiss that tells him I’m in this for the long haul.
This isn’t about saving him or feeling like I need to be here to help him pick up the pieces. It’s about watching us grow and change, and it’s about falling in love. He has my heart and together we can heal his.
Mondays absolutely suck. I’m so damn tired when my alarm goes off at six-thirty and I have no one to blame but myself. Caleb and I stayed up late watching movies and sucking the life out of Sunday night. But now I’m regretting it as I moan out loud and Caleb wraps his warm body around mine.
“Don’t go,” he mutters, groggy and hoarse with sleep as he nuzzles into the crook of my neck. “I thought you said you didn’t wake up early to go for runs?” His words make me smile, a reminder of what I told him when we first met.