Been Here All Along

10| worth

"You can always feel safe in my arms; I'll never let you go." - Unknown

Joel left this morning for his football tryouts, leaving me a cute voicemail since I was out cold when he left. The voicemail was just him telling me he loves me, he misses me already, and to call him when I wake up.

   When I called him back, he was nearly to Jacksonville, but not quite there yet. He told me that as soon as they check into their hotel, they have to get into their pads and onto the field. I told him he should've flown because he wouldn't be tired from driving, but he insisted it'd be easier.

   At 1:00, I went to work, extremely tired and slightly hungover still. I scanned the parking lot to see who I'd be working with today, hoping it'd be no one annoying. I love the high schoolers that work here, but sometimes I can't handle their drama. This is one of those times. Luckily, I only spotted the twins car of all the high schoolers. I, also, saw Jocey and Cara's cars and Ian's. Today shouldn't be too unbearable as long as I'm working the cafe.

   Before I could make it to the cafe to check the placement schedule, I was intercepted by Caroline.

"I'm not late today," I said, pointedly. Usually Caroline and I only interact when talking about my tardiness.

"But Ian is," she informed me.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "His car is here." Now it was Caroline's turn to look confused.

"Was he in his car?"

"I don't think so, but I can go look," I offered.

"Please do. I'll cover for you in the meantime," she decided. "My dad said he had his first therapy session today. Find him and make sure he's okay."

Why didn't he tell me? That's a big deal. He's probably so overwhelmed.

"I will." More worried than I'd like to admit, I ran out of the park and to where I saw Ian's car. Just as I suspected, it was empty.

He couldn't be anywhere in the park that one of our coworkers wouldn't spot him, so that leaves only one logical explanation: the beach. He's probably laying low further down the beach so no one can find him.

No one except for me.

None of my coworkers questioned me as I hurried through the park, making a beeline for the beach, where I was completely banking on Ian being.

As I was hoping, Ian was sitting on the beach, out of the line of sight from anyone at Westchester. He was staring out at the horizon while running his hands through the sand absentmindedly.

I approached him slowly and made myself a spot next to him in the sand.

"This spot taken?"

"By you, yes," Ian said softly. He looked up at me and offered me an obviously forced smile.

"What's going on, E?"

"Therapy was tougher than I am imagined," he admitted.

Though many people view Ian as the rock that is there for everyone, and that is true in a sense, he's always been comfortable with being sensitive around me. I love that he still is. He doesn't open up to many people, and I love that I'm still one of those people for him.

"Talking about it is hard. It's reopens old wounds. Everything that's happened these past four years that I've managed to bury deep inside my memory is resurfacing."

I cant even begin to imagine all of the thoughts and images rolling around through Ian's memory. He experienced war at the age of 18. He saw things many men don't even see in their entire lifetime.