Daniel raced along the beach, the surf crashing about his boots, sucking them and him deeper into the soft sand. Neither the wet, squishing inside them or the ninety pound pack on his back registered. He was a man driven. Driven by demons that had haunted his dreams for over two weeks. Dreams of soft, welcoming flesh that turned suddenly still and icy cold. The dreams had even begun to invade the waking hours. And for a man whose job could cost him or his friends their lives, it was something he could not allow.
"What the fuck is your problem?" spat Samuel as he finally caught up with him.
It was after one. The sun was high in the sky. The soft breeze off of the Atlantic Ocean did absolutely nothing to mitigate the blistering summer heat. They had been at this since four in the morning. Daniel had always trained hard. Trained his men hard. But these past few days, he knew he had pushed them and him further than ever before. But demons were sometimes harder to outrun than even the enemy.
"If you're getting too old to keep up, maybe it's time to get out, old man," he accused his friend.
Samuel put out his arm, his hand resting on Daniel's shoulder as he stared at him. "I mean it. What's eating you, man? You weren't even this bad after..."
Daniel turned away. He knew what Samuel meant. He had not been this tormented, not even after Rachel's death.
He stared out at the rough ocean. It was as volatile as he felt, churning and pounding. In a moment it could wipe away billions of grains of fine sand that had taken millions of years to form. Just as he could without knowing how or why destroy the women in his life.
Sixteen days as a husband and except for a very awkward encounter in the kitchen the morning after their wedding, they had spoken less than three dozen words to one another. She was avoiding him.
Oh, she was always around; cooking, cleaning and caring for the girls. But he was cast off to the sidelines; doomed to watch the game. The hardest moments were when he caught her laughing and playing with his daughters. No, the hardest was when he watched her hug or kiss them with such soft, tenderness.
How could he be so fucking jealous of his own children? But he was. He would give anything for just one of those touches. If Jill would just brush her fingers across his cheek and give one of those smiles over some stupid accomplishment that no one else even noticed. If she would bend and kiss him good night, then perhaps the nightmares would disappear as surely as the mythical bed bugs that she dispatched with her reassurances each night.
But that tenderness and care was reserved for his daughters. For him, it was polite formality and stiff uncertainty that seemed to boarder almost upon fear. It was driving him insane. If he did not get out into the field soon, he knew he would explode.
But he just shrugged and said, "Nothing. I'm fine."
The blow to the side of his ribs came out of nowhere. It took the air out of his lungs in a single whoosh, just as the sight of her in that damned white lace and satin nightmare had. He went to the ground instantly. A large wave hit him, taking him under. The pack weighed him down as he struggled to the surface. He broke through gasping and gurgling to clear his lungs from the nasty salt water.
Samuel stood gloating over him. "No, buddy, you are not fine. Otherwise, I could not have done that and we both know it." He held out his hand and helped Daniel to his feet, "So spill it now. What's wrong? I mean shit we left you with your half naked wife and instead of thanking us, you try to drive us all to our deaths with training exercises that start hours before dawn and last past dark."
"Yeah, well, you guys have gotten soft over the past few months. Just because I could not go into the field or exercises, you thought you could fuck off and it shows," he justified.
Samuel held up his hands in surrender, "I think we both know that was not fair, man. We know what's at stake here. And we take our jobs seriously. You know that."
Daniel shook his head. He could not allow this. Even during the worst of his marriage to Rachel, he had always been able to compartmentalize. Home was home. And work was work. You left your shit where it belonged. So why was she different? Why did a few bad days with her have him taking his best friend's head off and unfairly accusing his men of the worst of sins in their eyes?
"I'm sorry," he said as they walked silently back to where the others were beginning to congregate near a pile of rocks. Looking at their sweaty faces, he knew that he could ask for no better group of men. Soldiers. Or friends.
"Go home. Day's over, guys. You did good," he said.
He smiled and chatted with a couple of them as they dispersed, taking packs and equipment back across the beach to waiting vehicles. Most headed home to the one thing he would not find, the smiling welcome of a wife happy to have them back after a short day.
He straggled even after they were gone. He would go back to base, spend some time over paperwork that was more than caught up after almost a year of virtual desk duty. But it would give him an excuse, something to do until dinner time perhaps.
At least the thought of dinner time brought a smile to his face.
He smiled, definitely dinner time. If what the woman had said was true about cooking when she was thinking, she had been doing a hell of a lot of it lately. The menu had been unforgettable. Each night better than the last.
"You should go too," the voice said.
"I will," he lied. "Just have a few things to do back at the office first. Tell Simone not to get used to this though. Damned witch," he cursed.
"White witch," his friend smiled. His friend remained silently by his side for several moments, just watching the waves crash in and slink back. "She says that Jill fits right in with the others. Says that it's like the woman belongs."
Daniel sighed. Another thing to be jealous of. His wife's affection for the other spouses. Why was it that he was the only one she did not seem to have any real care for? He knew he was being a bit harsh there as well. She was polite to a fault, asking if she could get him something, if he needed anything.
But after that night, it was not like he could just say, 'Yeah, I need you.' No, it was pretty clear that while his wife might have enough love to instantly bond with his daughters and even the other wives, the woman was still very much in love with another man. There was simply no place for him. He was locked on the outside looking in.
"I mean it, man, if you ever need to talk about something, I'm there for you," his friend once more put his hand on his shoulder.
