Chapter 8 - NO MORE ORDERS
I did not go to the house.
I did not open the box.
For six hours, I sat in a plastic chair.
No mission.
No useful task.
No enemy.
Just waiting.
It nearly broke me.
At some point, Captain Reese arrived.
The officer whose hospital visit had led me down the wrong corridor.
He handed me vending-machine coffee.
“You look awful, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“Wasn’t a compliment.”
“I know.”
He sat.
He did not ask questions.
That was why I liked him.
At 7:40 a.m., Dr. Morris appeared.
I stood too fast.
“Sophie is alive.”
Everything after that arrived slowly.
The surgery was extensive.
They had controlled the bleeding.
Removed the tumor.
Removed one ovary and damaged tissue.
Preserved the other.
Margins looked encouraging.
Final pathology would take time.
I nodded as if I understood.
“Can I see her?”
“Soon.”
I called Rachel.
Then Mom.
Then I sat down and cried.
Not neatly.
Not quietly.
Five years late.
Two babies late.
A divorce late.
I covered my face and let it happen.
Reese stayed beside me.
He never touched my shoulder.
Never told me to be strong.
After a while, he said, “About time.”
I laughed through tears.
“Get out.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Sophie woke, she was confused.
Her first word was not my name.
It was “water.”
I had never been happier to hear anything.
A nurse gave her ice chips.
Then Sophie saw me.
“You stayed.”
“I said I would.”
She blinked slowly.
“Box?”
“Still closed.”
Her eyes shut.
“Good.”
I sat beside her.
For the first time, showing up did not feel like something I was doing for her.
May you like
It felt like the beginning of becoming someone I could live with.
