Page 50 of Pages of My Heart

“I’ll bring Jonathan next time. I didn’t want to overwhelm you. And Ma’s good. She’d be here, but I convinced her to wait a couple of days so I could bring Tom. I knew you’d want to see him the most.” Evie scans her brother’s body. “You’re far too thin. Didn’t they feed you properly?”

“Not enough. Didn’t eat too much after I got shot either. You heard from Richard?”

“A few letters. He doesn’t say much.”

Charlie’s eyes flitter from Evie to Thomas and back again.

“I don’t think there’s much time left before visiting hour is up. Is there anything I can bring you when I visit again with Ma?”

“Maybe a slice of that apple pie I like?”

Evie laughs. “I can do that. I’ll go now and leave you and Thomas to say your goodbyes. I love you, brother. I’ll be back in two days with Ma and Jonathan.”

“Love you too. Say ‘hi’ to Ma for me.”

Evie kisses Charlie on the forehead and then turns to Thomas, smiling softly. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

Thomas waits until Evie leaves, then sits back down on the bed.

All he wants is to take Charlie home so they can talk openly, and shed their clothes, and be together.

Thomas feels ashamed at how badly his body aches with desire, knowing that Charlie is hurt and still suffering, but more than a year of celibacy has taken its toll.

“Charlie, I . . . I need you so much. Do you still want me, too?” Charlie places his hand on Thomas’s thigh, nodding yes but remaining silent.

A bell signals the end of the visiting hour and Thomas sighs.

“I guess that means I’ve got to go. Christ, this is so unfair.

I just got you back, I don’t want to leave you again so soon. ”

“Can you come back tomorrow?” Charlie asks.

“Yes, of course. And on Monday Evie will bring your mother and baby Jonathan. And I’ll leave my assistant in charge for a short while on Tuesday so I can visit again then.

Hopefully by that time we’ll know when you can come home.

I’ve told the school I may need to take some time off, even if it’s unpaid leave.

I won’t be able to take as much as I’d like because of the time off when—oh, well, you don’t need to concern yourself about all that right now.

” Thomas quickly corrects course, hoping Charlie doesn’t question it. Talk of his episode can wait.

He kisses Charlie once more, putting everything he has into it. If only they could hold each other, but he’s scared to do more than take Charlie’s good hand and caress his face, not sure how much pain he’s in. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Not as much as it did.”

They squeeze hands. “I love you, my darling. Rest until tomorrow.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

When Thomas hears those words from Charlie’s lips, he’s almost in tears again. It feels like something is clicking back into place, and his heart swells with hope.

“Sir, visiting hour is over.”

The harsh tone of the nurse surprises Thomas, and he quickly steps away. “Yes, thank you, nurse. I’m leaving now.”

Thomas reluctantly begins to back away, feeling as if the half of his heart that’s been missing since Charlie left is getting torn from him again. The smallest hint of a smile flutters at the corners of Charlie’s mouth, as if he can sense Thomas’s struggle.

“Tomorrow, Red.”

“And every day thereafter,” he replies quietly.

With the nurse turned away and tending to the other patient, Thomas takes his chance and blows Charlie a kiss.

As he makes his way out of the hospital, he tries to pull himself together. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, and it seems a cruel form of punishment that he cannot stay longer, but for the first time in over a year, he’s optimistic about the future.

Charlie

When visiting time nears on Sunday, Charlie calls for the nurse.

He wants to be sitting up when Thomas arrives, not lying down like an invalid.

Yesterday’s visit was a surprise. Charlie had only just arrived at the hospital that morning and had not expected to see any of his family, least of all Thomas.

He’d felt deathly tired from traveling, his shoulder ached something awful, and he’d been in desperate need of some time to pull himself together. Needless to say, it was denied to him.

If Thomas has already received his last letter, he didn’t let on, and if it’s still to arrive, hopefully Charlie can intercept it somehow.

The truth is, he meant every word when he wrote it.

He’s not the same man Thomas saw off more than twelve months ago, not after what he’s done.

Charlie knows the ghosts of war will haunt him for the rest of his days.

Thomas would be better off without him. He’s broken.

His head doesn’t work right anymore, and the thought of Thomas seeing him like that fills him with humiliation and shame.

Thomas deserves a husband who is whole. Who isn’t a fucking cripple.

There have been days when Charlie’s rage is untamable—a beast beating at his insides and hell-bent on clawing and tearing its way out.

Other days he barely thinks or feels at all, lying vacant and numb, unable to concentrate or feel the simplest of emotions.

Once upon a time he was someone Thomas could depend on.

Now he’s unpredictable and unstable—a poor substitute for the man he once was.

The nurse enters and he swallows his pride, asking for help to sit upright.

Charlie wants the bandages and sling off, but the doctor isn’t coming on his rounds until later in the afternoon.

He checks the clock on the wall, his heart rate steadily increasing with fear and anticipation.

Charlie wants Thomas more than anything, and yet he’s afraid to see him—afraid Thomas will see straight through him and uncover his blackened heart.

But thoughts of Thomas’s lips, his touch, stayed with him all night.

For the first time in so long, his body had become aroused and he’d touched himself, Thomas’s name falling silently from his lips.

He should let Thomas go, and yet his body defiantly objects.

The other soldier in his room has no legs and, so far, no visitors.

The man has mostly slept, and Charlie doesn’t mind because he’s in no mood to talk.

He selfishly hopes this will continue so he can have some privacy with Thomas.

He doesn’t understand how Thomas even made it inside when only immediate family are allowed, or how he’ll manage again today on his own, but before he can ponder it further, Thomas is there, standing in the doorway, looking more handsome than ever.

“Charlie, you’re sitting up!” Thomas walks across the room and extends his hand with an offering. “I brought you a Hershey bar.”

“Thanks. Been a long time since I had one of these.” He sets it on the small table next to his bed, trying to hide his wince when he twists too far. “Why don’t you move the partition again, like yesterday?”

“Good idea.” Thomas moves quickly, setting it in place to give them the most privacy, then takes a seat on the edge of his bed.

“Before I forget . . . if anyone asks, I’m your brother Donnie.

” Thomas takes his hand then, the warmth, the familiarity, overwhelming.

“I still can’t believe you’re home. I didn’t sleep at all last night. I only wanted to be with you.”

Charlie cannot resist a moment longer, and he tugs on Thomas’s hand. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

The kiss makes his body come alive, heat rushing to the surface of his skin.

He moans despite his best effort to suppress it.

Thomas’s tongue licks at the seam of his lips, and with his self-control close to abandoning him, Charlie gently pushes him away before they cannot stop.

Thomas looks as dazed as Charlie feels, both their chests heaving.

“Did you say you’re my brother Donnie?” he asks, suddenly uncertain if he heard correctly.

Thomas laughs, a kind of giggle that feels youthful but not childish, and it brings a proper smile to Charlie’s face for the first time in as long as he can remember.

“Only family can visit, so Evie told them I was Donnie.” Thomas explains.

“They didn’t even question us. God, it’s so good to see you smile.

” Thomas’s eyes wander all over Charlie’s face.

He’s smiling too, but then slowly that smile starts to fade, his expression growing somber.

Then the question he’d been most dreading.

“Charlie, why did you send that letter? Did you mean it?”

Charlie looks down at his lap. How does he explain himself when he doesn’t want Thomas to know why? Now that some time has passed, he never wants anyone to know, least of all Thomas. How could Thomas continue to love him if he were to find out what a monster he’s become?

“Charlie? Look at me. I need to know. Did you mean it?”

Charlie takes a deep breath and lifts his chin, seeing the depth of Thomas’s hurt in his piercing green eyes and feeling its impact like another bullet wound to his body.

“I was—I’m not the same man. I told you yesterday, my head ain’t right no more.

You’d be better off without me, but . . .

Tommy I—” Pressing his good hand to his eyes, he tries to ward off more tears.

“Tom, it’s wrong of me to burden you. You could go on and find someone who ain’t useless. But—”

“But what, Charlie?” Thomas interrupts, his anger poorly veiled. “How could you ever think I would be better off without you?” Thomas leans forward, lowering his voice, although it still comes out severe. “How could you ever think I could love someone else?”

“I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t. But I can’t help the way I feel . . . Christ, I missed you so much.”

Thomas softens immediately. “I need to hold you. Can I hold you?”