SHIFT EXCHANGE

Chapter 5

Exhausted, Jake let himself into the cold apartment he now called home. A quick check of the thermostat  by the door showed the heat had once again gone on the fritz.  He rolled his eyes. The apartment's modern, digital heating system had been one of its major selling points, if only it actually worked.

He prayed the thermostat in the bedroom was still on track. He didn't relish stripping out of his uniform in a frosty bathroom to slip between freezing sheets.

Thankfully, the door to his bedroom opened into a warm 68 degrees. Jake sighed with relief. The bed called invitingly to his left but he doggedly continued on the bathroom. Shower first. It was one of his hard and fast rules. Never take your shift into bed with you.

The glass door to the shower opened with a squeak. He turned the knob to start the flow of water. By the time he'd divested himself of his uniform it would be hot.

Jake released the buckle on his duty belt and felt the weight let loose from his hips. He hung it on the hook he'd added to the bathroom wall specifically for that purpose. The snaps of his shirt popped loudly in the quiet, stone lined room followed by the loud rasp of his vests Velcro straps disengaging.

The cold air stung as it hit his damp undershirt. No matter how cold it was outside he always sweated a little under the heavy Kevlar. His lungs expanded fully and reveled in their new freedom. It was an almost uncontrollable reflex, his body appreciated the moment it became unfettered. His boots, socks, pants, undershirt, and boxer briefs fell to the floor quickly.

Steam billowed out from the top of the glass stall shower. Another squeak of the door and Jake was engulfed in the hard, hot spray. It had been an easy night. Nothing too major, certainly no where near what it could have been. Regardless, he felt the stress and tension relax from his shoulders and neck.

He was in charge now. A leader of men. Something he never thought he would be again after leaving the Army. Responsible for those under his command, and tasked with getting them home safely to those that love them.

When he'd started, he'd had every intention of moving up the ranks and becoming a sergeant. His ex-wife Melanie had said she would support him, but when the opportunity came up, she'd changed her mind, begging him to move to detectives instead. She'd said she would feel better knowing he was working in a capacity with lower chances of him being shot at or harmed.  

Jake knew that his wife, all of their wives, lived under a constant strain of worry. Praying each time their husbands backed out of the driveway that it wouldn't be the last time they would see them alive.

He and Melanie had been going through a particularly strenuous time in their marriage. They'd just been presented with the news, after over a year of testing and treatment, that Melanie couldn't bear children.  Jake had been watching, helplessly as he watched the woman he loved battle with depression and self flagellation.

Moving to detectives, although not what he wanted, had seemed like the better thing to do if it could ease some of her worries.

It hadn't worked. Over the next three years he'd simply watched as their marriage had fallen apart.

At first there had been yelling and screaming. She was convinced God was punishing her in some way.  Try as he might, nothing he said could convince her otherwise. Nor could he seem to assure her that he loved her no differently, that it was she, and not the plans they had made, that meant the most to him.

Over time sadness turned to anger. Their fights became vicious battles of words. Guilt dug into him to admit that he'd been an equal participant. The hurt in fear inside him had lashed out at the anger and hopelessness inside her. Coming home had been a nightmare.