“Because I am, Kenna. I’m apologizing for pushing you away and into harm’s way, getting you hurt. God, that’s why I lost control in the lounge tonight. I was just shell-shocked by the realization that I’d failed you so much worse than I already knew I had.” His shoulders fell, and Kenna hated the defeated air rolling off of him.
“Griffin, my amputation is not your fault. I won’t let you take that on, and I don’t want you to. I don’t regret becoming a Marine. For a few years, I’d finally found myself. I loved being a Marine. I loved my work. I’d never had that before, not once. And I was good at it. Don’t make my service something negative for you, because I feel like that takes something away from what it meant to me. I hated losing you so much, but I don’t regret serving my country. Even after everything.”
As the words spilled from her mouth, she realized how true they were. Why had she never thought of it this way before? Because she truly didn’t regret her service. And she’d never once wished she hadn’t joined the Marines. She shook her head.
“Honestly, my only regret is that George had to die so I could live. That’s the only part I would do over if I could.”
He laced his fingers with hers, and his thumb stroked her skin. “Okay,” he said. “I hear you. It’s just hard to see the chain of events and not read cause and effect into them.”
“I get it. Trust me,” she said.
“If you get it,” he said, his voice going so, so soft. “Then why do you blame yourself for Georgia’s death?” He squeezed her hand.
The question made her breath catch. “I...because...” She ducked her chin, her mind reeling.
“Talk to me, baby. You told me you wanted to feel good again, and I thought that was because of the pain of your arm. But now, I’m wondering if what you really meant was the pain of losing your best friend and teammates.” His hand petted her hair, and the feeling would’ve been comforting if his questions weren’t making her examine all kinds of things she really didn’t want to explore that deeply.
“It’s...it’s all of it, Griffin. The physical pain, the grief, the guilt.” Her throat got thick, but of course her fucking eyes remained dry. “One of the doctors specifically told me that I’d survived because Georgia blocked the brunt of the impact, though, so I’m not taking on any guilt I don’t deserve.”
His expression went fierce. “Christ, that’s bullshit. I’d like to show that sonofabitch the brunt of some impact, that’s for damn sure.” Kenna’s eyes went wide as Griffin shook his head. “That was a horrible thing for anyone to say to you, let alone a doctor, and especially to someone who was probably already in a vulnerable state. I’m sorry he planted that in your head, because even if the physics of it are true, that still doesn’t make you responsible for her death.”
Kenna’s chest squeezed around a strange, intense, uncomfortable sensation. “But—”
“No, Kenna. Come on. Did you plant that IED?” His dark brow arched over flashing brown eyes.
She knew what he was doing, and she just looked at him.
“Did you tell your teammates to trip it? Did you push them into it? Would your death have prevented theirs?” he fired out.
“No, no, I don’t know,” she said, hugging her knees tighter to her stomach.
“If Georgia had been the one to live, and you...you had died,” he said, his voice suddenly strained. “Would you have expected her to feel guilty? To feel like it was her fault? To feel like she could never truly live because you hadn’t?”
The stinging sensation behind Kenna’s eyes was suddenly so intense that she pressed her thumb and forefinger against them, because he was pegging her all over the place. “No,” she managed. “I would never have wanted that for her.”
Griffin pulled her hand away from her face. “Right, baby. So no way would she want that for you. You two were Marines. You both were both kick-ass women who knew the risks. And you were best friends, so you clearly cared about each other. I don’t have to know anything else about Georgia to know she’d want more for you. She’d want everything for you.”