story. “There were a bunch of kids throwing their arms up screaming. They were trying to stop us—I guess. I don’t know what they wanted. I was sitting in the passenger side and urged the driver to keep going. I know better than to slow down, but instead of listening, he let up on the gas. As soon as we slowed a little, the explosion happened. It hit my side of the vehicle, and I remember feeling like I was flying. Everything was weightless but chaotic at the same time.”
He takes a deep breath and his hand tightens. “What happened then?”
“There was screaming and blood everywhere. I remember being dragged by the neck, and I assumed it was one of the guys in our car. I was going in and out so much, I honestly don’t know much more than that.”
As a tear falls down my face, Aaron releases my hand. “Who was pulling you?”
“They did.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” I encourage him to tell me more.
“Who do you think, Lee?” Aaron says as his jaw tightens. “I was losing a lot of blood. I thought I was dead. They made sure I wouldn’t die, but I wouldn’t tell them anything. Not my name, not anything. They knew I was American, even though I only spoke French so they’d be confused. I would go unconscious for long periods of time. I honestly don’t remember much. When Charlie came to the site, she apparently was following around some high ranking terrorist pretending to be his new toy.”
“Is that the agent that found you?” I ask.
“Yes, she literally stumbled on the camp I was being held. When she realized I was American, I started to get the care I needed and got some information. But I wasn’t sure any of it was real. I’m still not sure what was reality versus not.”
I sit quiet and try to absorb all he’s telling me. It was a year and we never looked. None of us searched for him. “They told us there was no way you could’ve survived the blast. It was so bad that no one would. There weren’t many remains of the others. Did they survive?” I look at him and he shakes his head.
“I shouldn’t have. The blast was bad, but apparently, I got pulled out before the secondary explosion of the vehicle. I was mangled and in bad condition when I woke up the first time. I would wake for a few hours and then go back out for who knows how long. There wasn’t exactly good medical attention. Charlie was the only thing keeping me alive. It took her months to gain my trust. I wasn’t sure if she really was CIA or if she was full of shit. I couldn’t rely on my training because nothing made sense.”
“I hate this for you,” I admit.
He tangles his fingers with mine. “All I knew was that if there was any chance, I needed to stay strong. I would let her help me so that I could come home to you,” he says, hushed.
“Aaron,” my voice shakes. I hate that he’s been hurt. I know he won’t tell me, but I care. “Did they . . . ?”
“I’ve been through worse. I’m alive, so all of that shit doesn’t matter.”
“I can’t tell you how much your death affected me. I was a mess. Each night I would pray it was a lie. I refused to get rid of your things for almost the full year. I can’t tell you what it was like when Mark came to the house to tell me,” I let out a shaky breath. “I latched on to every good memory we had. I held them like lifelines, praying they would keep me afloat. When I went into labor, Reanell practically had to carry me to the car. I knew once Aara was born, things would be different for me.” I stop and take a gulp of wine. “I did it though, I gave birth to that beautiful little girl, alone. Each time I’d push I would think of you. How you went through so much and always stayed strong. When I held her for the first time, it was agony. I hated being alone.”
“You think I didn’t want to be there?” he asks incredulously.
“No, of course I don’t think that. Let me finish.” I wait for the vein in his neck to stop pulsing. “There was this baby
He takes a deep breath and his hand tightens. “What happened then?”
“There was screaming and blood everywhere. I remember being dragged by the neck, and I assumed it was one of the guys in our car. I was going in and out so much, I honestly don’t know much more than that.”
As a tear falls down my face, Aaron releases my hand. “Who was pulling you?”
“They did.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” I encourage him to tell me more.
“Who do you think, Lee?” Aaron says as his jaw tightens. “I was losing a lot of blood. I thought I was dead. They made sure I wouldn’t die, but I wouldn’t tell them anything. Not my name, not anything. They knew I was American, even though I only spoke French so they’d be confused. I would go unconscious for long periods of time. I honestly don’t remember much. When Charlie came to the site, she apparently was following around some high ranking terrorist pretending to be his new toy.”
“Is that the agent that found you?” I ask.
“Yes, she literally stumbled on the camp I was being held. When she realized I was American, I started to get the care I needed and got some information. But I wasn’t sure any of it was real. I’m still not sure what was reality versus not.”
I sit quiet and try to absorb all he’s telling me. It was a year and we never looked. None of us searched for him. “They told us there was no way you could’ve survived the blast. It was so bad that no one would. There weren’t many remains of the others. Did they survive?” I look at him and he shakes his head.
“I shouldn’t have. The blast was bad, but apparently, I got pulled out before the secondary explosion of the vehicle. I was mangled and in bad condition when I woke up the first time. I would wake for a few hours and then go back out for who knows how long. There wasn’t exactly good medical attention. Charlie was the only thing keeping me alive. It took her months to gain my trust. I wasn’t sure if she really was CIA or if she was full of shit. I couldn’t rely on my training because nothing made sense.”
“I hate this for you,” I admit.
He tangles his fingers with mine. “All I knew was that if there was any chance, I needed to stay strong. I would let her help me so that I could come home to you,” he says, hushed.
“Aaron,” my voice shakes. I hate that he’s been hurt. I know he won’t tell me, but I care. “Did they . . . ?”
“I’ve been through worse. I’m alive, so all of that shit doesn’t matter.”
“I can’t tell you how much your death affected me. I was a mess. Each night I would pray it was a lie. I refused to get rid of your things for almost the full year. I can’t tell you what it was like when Mark came to the house to tell me,” I let out a shaky breath. “I latched on to every good memory we had. I held them like lifelines, praying they would keep me afloat. When I went into labor, Reanell practically had to carry me to the car. I knew once Aara was born, things would be different for me.” I stop and take a gulp of wine. “I did it though, I gave birth to that beautiful little girl, alone. Each time I’d push I would think of you. How you went through so much and always stayed strong. When I held her for the first time, it was agony. I hated being alone.”
“You think I didn’t want to be there?” he asks incredulously.
“No, of course I don’t think that. Let me finish.” I wait for the vein in his neck to stop pulsing. “There was this baby
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