Off Limits (Off 2)

Lying on a platform of black velvet is a blue and white ribbon with a medal in the shape of a cross attached. I know this is a military decoration but I don't know its significance. I wish I had my iPhone in here but it's laying out in the living room. Otherwise I'd just GTS.

Then I see Nix's phone on the bedside table and I grab for it before my conscience can dictate otherwise. I quickly Google "military medals" and click on the "images" tab.

Right away I find that I'm holding the Navy Cross in my hand. I read a Wikipedia link that says it's awarded for extraordinary heroism while engaged in action against an enemy of the United States.

I set Nix's phone aside and pick the medal back up. I stroke my fingers down the metal surface and I wonder what happened in Afghanistan that warranted Nix to be awarded this.

And why is it shoved in the bottom of his t-shirt drawer?

There is a piece of paper folded into the top of the case and I open it up. It starts, "The President of the United States takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to Nixon Henry Caldwell, Sergeant, United States Marine Corps, Team Leader, 2d Platoon, Bravo Company, MARSOC, FIRST Marine Division FMF in support of Operation ENDURING FREEDOM...

"What are you doing with that?" I hear Nix snarl from the doorway and I jump sky high he scares me so bad.

He's staring at me with blazing ferocity in his eyes. His fists are clenched and his jaw muscles on both sides are ticking. He's not happy and I'm so busted.

I stand up and start stammering. "I'm sorry. I was getting a t-shirt to wear from your drawer and I saw this there. I was just...being nosy I guess." I'm holding the medal in one hand and the paper in the other.

Expecting my little "nosy" confession to lighten Nix's mood, I give him a small, shameful smile. He's not impressed or moved. Instead, he stomps over to me and rips the medal and document out of my hand. Opening the same drawer I found it in, Nix throws them both in and slams it shut, causing the mirror on top to rattle heavily.

He spins around on me. "Do not go through my things again. Ever."

"I'm sorry, Nix. I won't."

Some of the tension leaves his shoulders but I clearly don't know how to keep my mouth shut for I ask, "What was the medal for?"

Wrong move.

His spine stiffens again and he wheels on me. "Jesus Christ, Emily. Don't you know how to mind your own fucking business?"

I shrink back from his words. No one has ever spoken to me with such hateful menace before. And he's not finished. He puts both hands on top of his head and looks up at the ceiling.

"FUCK!" he yells to no one in particular.

It's at this point I realize that I'm completely naked, never having put the t-shirt on that I borrowed. I quickly pull it over my head because I'm feeling vulnerable under the glare of his acrimony.

I reach out tentatively to him and I feel like I'm dealing with a wild animal. "I'm so sorry..."

He takes a step back from me, fury and rage still masking his face. He holds his hands out to me in the universal sign of "stay the hell away from me".

"I just...wanted to know a bit more about you...I thought...the medal had something to do with your injuries."

Again...wrong move. I apparently don't know how to just shut the fuck up.

If I thought Nix was enraged before, I had been sorely mistaken. His face mottles red and I swear his pupils have flames in them. He lunges toward me and grabs my upper arm. It's not painful but it's not comfortable either.

He marches me to his bedroom door and with his words chopped and shaky, he says, "This isn't going to work, Emily. I need you to leave."

I dig my heels into the carpet. Oh, hell no I'm not leaving.

"Wait, Nix. I'm sorry. I'll back off. You don't have to tell me anything about what happened there."

And then the dam bursts opened. "Fuck you, Emily. You don't just get to rip this shit open and then say you're sorry. Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? I should have known better than to trust you. I thought you respected my privacy, but you're fucking like everyone else. You want to dig, and poke, and prod, and figure out what demons make my world go round. Well, FUCK YOU EMILY! I don't need this shit and I don't need you. Now GET OUT and don't ever contact me again!"

I am stunned speechless. I don't know what to say and I am devastated by the pain and hate in his words. I've crossed an unforgivable line with Nix and I can't take it back.

But I try one more time, "Please, Nix. I'm sorry--"

He's having none of it. He pushes me out of his bedroom door and just says, "You got five minutes to get the fuck out of my house or I'll throw your naked ass out of here. Don't push me, Emily."

Then he slams the door in my face.

I stand there for just a second before a sob tears out of my throat. I clap my hand over my mouth and spin from the door so Nix doesn't hear it. I won't give him that luxury...to know that he hurt me that badly.

I all but stumble to the living room as the tears are now pouring down my face. I'm not even sure how I get dressed but I do. As I'm slipping my shoes on, I become aware that Harley is there, nudging me with this nose. He's trying to get my attention and I ignore him. Finally, he gives a whine and I stop to look at his soulful face. Grief courses through me and I drop to my knees, wrapping my arms around his neck. Burying my face in his soft fur, I let loose with wracking sobs. I have a sharp pain in the center of my chest and I'm sure it's my heart breaking.

Finally, I pull back and I'm embarrassed to see Nix standing in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me weep into Harley's neck. His face is cold and hard but I see something flicker there as he watches us.

Is he here to apologize? To beg me to stay?

I'll accept. I'll say yes.

"Harley...come," he calls. And no matter how heartbroken I am, Harley's loyalty is to Nix...as it should be. He turns from me and pads over to his master, pushing his head into Nix's hand. I notice Nix doesn't bother to pet Harley and that tells me a lot.

Nix turns his back on me and walks back to his bedroom, softly shutting the door. I would have preferred him to slam it because that would tell me he is still being controlled by anger. Instead, I'm hearing soft acceptance of the situation and that slices deeper than his rage.

I gather the rest of my things and leave the apartment, knowing that my life will not be the same again.

CHAPTER 27

Nix

2 weeks later...

I boot the laptop up and grab a beer while I wait. Harley is curled up at my feet.

We've been holed up in this dingy hotel in the town of Oleny, Illinois for two days. It's the last leg of our journey from California. I've been stalling, not quite ready to head back to reality. But tomorrow...for sure...I'm going back home to New Jersey.

Opening Outlook, I take a long swallow of beer. I need to send an email and it will make one person very happy, and hopefully it will work out for two more people as well.

I need to think about what I'm going to say, so I stall by reading some email exchanges I've had over the past few weeks.

I burn with a little shame and a whole lot of guilt when I read the first one from Linc.

Date: November 10, 2012 8:17 a.m.

To: Nix Caldwell [[email protected]]

From: Linc Caldwell [[email protected]]

Re: Happy Birthday Asshole!

Nix: What the fuck dude? You take off without telling me where you're going? It's a good thing you at least let dad know you were traveling or I would so kick your ass. You have some explaining to do. I don't know what happened between you and Emily but Ryan is extremely pissed at you. If it's any consolation, I know I told you not to hurt her, and you clearly did, but I know you didn't do it intentionally. You're not that type of man. I hope you get your shit worked out. Miss you buddy.

Oh, and Happy Marine Corps Birthday!

Semper Fi

Linc

Yes, I'm riddled with guilt and shame. I didn't intentionally mean to hurt Emily the way I did. I was so angry, so afraid of her finding out the truth about me, that I had absolutely no control over my words. I never, in a million years, would try to hurt her, but I hurt her all the same. And I hate myself for it.