Page 49 of Pages of My Heart

Thomas

As they approach the entrance to the military hospital, Thomas begins to worry he may actually faint.

He’s lightheaded and sweaty, and he cannot seem to draw a full breath into his lungs.

His whole chest feels tight, like it’s locked in a vice grip.

Evie clutches his arm so firmly he suspects she is incapable of standing without his support.

She somehow convinced Loretta to wait a day or two before visiting Charlie so she could first see how he’s faring and better prepare her.

This manipulation allows Thomas to join her today.

Evie has been his rock since the day he admitted to the true nature of his and Charlie’s relationship, and it’s changed his life.

Being able to share his thoughts and feelings and fears, and to reminisce openly about his love for Charlie, has kept him going while they awaited news.

And now thanks to Evie’s ingenuity, Thomas will get to see Charlie today, posing as his and Evie’s brother, since the hospital allows only immediate family to visit.

Word came only a few days ago that Charlie was finally being transferred to a local convalescent facility and would soon be allowed visitors.

They know he is stable now, after nearly dying from blood loss caused by two bullet wounds to the shoulder.

Charlie will be honorably discharged from the hospital, having been deemed no longer fit for service.

For Thomas, this is the best possible outcome.

Charlie is alive, and that’s all that matters. Charlie can come home.

“Evie, can we—can we just stop for a moment?” Evie faces him, concerned etched across her face. They stand just steps outside the entrance. “What if they don’t believe I’m Donnie?” he asks for probably the tenth time that hour.

Evie takes both his hands. “Tom, they won’t question us. It’ll be fine. I know you’re both keen and nervous to see him. I am too. But he must be waiting for us. Especially for you. So come on. Stiff upper lip now.”

All he can do is nod as she turns toward the door.

Thomas opens it for her, and then faster than he’d like they’re telling the nurse at reception who they’re there to see.

Just as Evie said, she doesn’t question them, just gives them directions to Charlie’s room.

The hospital is morbidly quiet, walls and floors a cold and uninviting white.

Thomas blinks away tears, his body shivering like it’s a frigid winter’s day and not the middle of August. He reminds himself for the hundredth time that he cannot kiss Charlie when he sees him.

Cannot hold him or declare his love. It’s all he wants to do, but he knows it will have to wait until they’re home and behind closed doors.

This will take every ounce of self-restraint he possesses.

Evie tugs on his arm as they pass an open door. “Tommy, look. There are partitions in some of the rooms to separate the patients. Perhaps we can give you some privacy?”

Thomas hears her but is incapable of answering.

They’ve reached Charlie’s room and his heart does the exact opposite of what he expected, seeming to slow down, almost stopping, just the occasional heavy thud reminding him he’s still alive.

He tries to swallow but finds he can’t. They step inside to find two of the four beds are empty.

Closest to the door a man missing both his legs is snoring softly, and there in the fourth bed, nearest the window—

Charlie.

His face is turned away from them, but Thomas would know him anywhere.

His dark hair is shaved right down, shorter even than when he shipped out, and he looks small and fragile, even in the narrow hospital bed.

Thomas chokes back a sob. His darling is too thin, and his skin too pale.

Charlie’s left shoulder and upper arm are heavily bandaged, and his lower arm lies across his chest, encased in a sling.

Thomas is vaguely aware of Evie moving the room’s single partition as he tiptoes forward, tentatively edging around the bed.

Charlie is lying so still Thomas assumes he is asleep.

He hesitates, not sure if he should wake him, but then as if sensing someone near, Charlie looks up and their eyes meet for the first time in more than a year.

Thomas unravels immediately, tears streaming down his cheeks before he can stop them.

He’s about to fall to his knees at Charlie’s bedside when the unthinkable happens—Charlie turns his head away.

“Don’t look at me, O’Reilly.” Charlie’s voice is hollow and cold, almost unrecognizable. “You shouldn’t be here.”

The words tear into Thomas like shrapnel, the pain momentarily stunning him.

Evie has positioned the partition by the bed—blocking them from both the other patient and the door.

Thomas hears the click of her heels as she exits the room, giving them this moment alone.

He sits gingerly on the edge of the bed, trying to collect his thoughts, trying to understand why Charlie is acting this way.

Where just moments before his heart had slowed nearly to a stop, now it’s racing wildly. He’s never felt fear like this before.

“Charlie. Darling . . . I want to look at you. Please. I’ve dreamt of this moment every day for over a year.”

“Can’t use my left arm,” Charlie grunts out.

“Maybe never will. Head’s all fucked up too.

I—I’m fuckin’ crazy. No good for anybody.

” Charlie’s face contorts, then crumbles.

There’s anguish and pain. Shame. And then Charlie begins to cry.

His chest heaves with shuddering sobs that break Thomas’s heart.

He takes Charlie’s good hand and presses a kiss to his palm like he’s done countless times before.

“Charlie, please look at me,” he whispers.

“I don’t care if you can’t use your arm, and I know that you’re not crazy.

And I wouldn’t care if you were, anyway.

” He squeezes Charlie’s hand tight. “I will always love you.” Leaning forward, he presses his face against Charlie’s cheek.

“I’ll take care of you, like you’ve always taken care of me.

Please let me. You’re my husband and I need you. ”

Thomas pulls back a little, and finally Charlie turns to look at him—really look at him. “Oh, Charlie—” His eyes sting and fresh tears well up. “My darling, can I kiss you?”

Charlie hesitates for a moment but then nods, tears flowing down the sides of his face. Thomas connects their lips, trying not to gasp at the joy he feels, their mouths trembling against one another. It’s relief and love and peace and home.

He pulls away sooner than he wants to, checking that they are still alone and safely hidden behind the partition.

He then returns his attention to Charlie, wiping away his tears and tenderly stroking his cheek.

Charlie touches his face in return, looking at him in wonder, as if not sure that Thomas is real.

Thomas smiles. “You made it Charlie. You’re home.” He can’t help himself and presses another chaste kiss to Charlie’s lips. “Tell me what happened.”

Charlie looks away again, then closes his eyes altogether. When he answers his voice is gruff and clipped. “It’s hard to talk about. Doctors say I may never get the use of my hand or arm back.”

“Well, we’ll just take it one day at a time. They say you nearly died. Your body just needs time to heal.” Thomas runs a hand over Charlie’s hair, idly wondering how long it will take to grow back to its normal length. “Do you know when you’ll be discharged? I want to get you home.”

Charlie opens his eyes slowly, as if his eyelids are dreadfully heavy. “They said a few days . . . maybe a week. They got some special doctor supposed to come show me exercises I can do to help my arm.”

“Okay. Hopefully it’ll only be a few days. I want to prepare a nice welcome home meal for you. I need to fatten you up! And I can help you with your exercises.” Thomas notices the scar over Charlie’s left eyebrow and a series of them down his right arm but doesn’t say anything.

“Are ya sure?” Charlie asks, averting his eyes once again.

“Of course I’m sure.”

“No, I mean—are ya sure that you still . . . that you still want me? Like this. I’m just gonna be a fuckin’ burden on you.” Thomas watches Charlie fight back more tears and realizes this is far from over.

“Charlie, you’ll never be a burden on me, and I don’t want to hear you say that again.

” He leans forward, kissing Charlie on his forehead and following it up with a softer, delicate kiss to his mouth.

And then another, encouraging Charlie to part his lips.

Finally, Charlie reciprocates, allowing his mouth to open enough for Thomas to capture his bottom lip between his own.

His heart races as Charlie breathes, warm and sweet, into his mouth.

“Tom?”

He quickly pulls away at Evie’s voice coming from behind the partition.

“Evie’s here?” Charlie asks, panicking and trying to push Thomas off the bed.

“Darling, it’s okay . . . she knows.” Thomas stands up and steps back from the bed anyway. While Evie has said she accepts them, even supports them, he isn’t sure how she would react if she saw them being so intimate.

“What?” Charlie’s eyes widen.

“It’s okay,” Thomas reassures again. “She doesn’t mind, and she’s promised to keep our secret.”

Evie appears from behind the partition, smiling shyly at Charlie. “It’s true, Charlie. I don’t mind. I’m just glad you two have each other. And your secret is safe with me. Don’t be mad at Tom, okay?”

Charlie’s face is a mix of emotions, but then slowly a tentative smile begins to bloom across his face. “Come closer, sis.”

Thomas steps aside so Evie can sit down on the edge of the bed.

“It’s so good to see you. We all missed you so much. And I can’t wait for you to meet Jonathan.” Evie holds Charlie’s hand.

“You didn’t bring him with you? How’s Ma?”