Heptadecagon

I had no plans to lie here all day in this hospital bed, but with David next to me as a guard, I knew I wouldn't be moving any time soon. Or at least not soon enough for me. He still clung to the belief—put there by Marissa—that I'd be headed to rehab. I still clung to the belief that I could go home. What an impasse. I adjusted my shoulders and tried to move my legs. They felt heavy and full, as if leaded shrapnel had filled the hollowness. Crap, maybe Marissa was right. How could I go home if I couldn't get out of bed myself? I fell back against the pillow and closed my eyes. How had I gotten here? I thought back to everything I'd done in my life. From the Air Force, to marrying Angie, to having the kids. I tried to keep my faith and foremost in my mind as I could. Sure, I'd have my moments, my sins, but I'd learned my lesson and moved on. Was this God's way of punishing me? Saying I'd done something wrong? It was easy to believe that. Place the bl...