❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
A soldier, that was a big part of who Owen was. The call for his country would never be something he would decline nor fight against. But he wasn’t just a soldier or a doctor anymore, he was someone’s husband,
“Teddy–” Teeth gritting together, his body tensing in slight anger. If she was going to have him go for another tour, she was going to have to say it straight to his face. No backdoors.
“I need to hear you say it. To my face.”
And still, she was
stalling. The words she loathed seared her throat from the hatred she had for
them, but that was nothing compared to how Owen would feel when she finally
said them. Why would she expect anything else, having failed her one duty as a
friend? There was nothing more to say, for Teddy felt no less wretched than an
executioner.
“I – I…” Teddy
swallowed. “I’m so, so sorry. They deployed you on another tour to Iraq and I
couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t convince them otherwise. Please forgive me,
Owen.” It was selfish, and she knew it — but Owen’s friendship was one of the last she
had.
teddyaltmcn reblogged this from soldierboy-owen
mediterraneansummer liked this soldierboy-owen reblogged this from teddyaltmcn
shoutingrandomwords liked this ameliaisms liked this