Some nights he couldn't sleep. It was usually when he was overtired, and couldn't regulate his thoughts anymore. Thoughts fired in every direction and touched on memories he'd buried a long time ago; the magical moment his brain switched off eluding him completely.

During the term, Gabe was always an early riser and so it became a countdown against the dawn as he stared at the ceiling in the darkened room. Times like these, he missed being in the Marines. One vital Marine Corps rule had always been to sleep whenever and wherever you could.

He used to be able to sleep through anything and sleep after everything. Civilian life had spoilt him a bit. He missed being so exhausted your brain had no choice but to shut down.

Around four am, Gabe gave up on sleep and got up for a run. He hadn't been on one for a while, the adrenaline and the chilly early morning wind would rejuvenate him where sleep couldn't.

His early morning thoughts of the military had been bittersweet. He missed the easy camaraderie, the brotherhood and the sense of noble pursuit and purpose.

He had some semblance of that now of course, but the picture got muddy sometimes. At times he felt like he was the only one striving to make the team better and actually believed the team were capable of playing good football.

If it had been his choice, he wouldn't have left the service when he did. His term had been coming to an end and he had been on the fence. Him and his wife, Alice fought constantly about it. She wanted to start a family and he wanted to do one more term before he left for good. His rationale was that she knew what she was signing up for when they had met and subsequently got married.

Much of their courting relationship had been long distance; being as equally stubborn as they were in love, they had kept in touch and the flames of romance burned brightly despite the distance. Alice took letter writing seriously, and her humorous take on life through her letters never failed to put a smile on his face when his heart was full of missing home and missing her.

Gabe had been offered a training post in Florida which he gladly took, it meant that he could be closer to Alice. He proposed when he'd been home for just six months and they got married after a short but eventful engagement.

They got married in a small town hall ceremony; neither of them were particularly close to their families. Gabe had no siblings and Alice had just Ella, who had been one of the witnesses along with his best friend and colleague, Josh.

Much to her chagrin, Gabe being a Marine had been needed abroad for a short stint in Iraq at the height of the ISIS insurgency. He was excited to go and be at the heart of the action again. Staying back had felt like a cop-out, when the military had spent years and countless resources in training him to be a ruthless cog in their machine.

Alice's anger had gone stratospheric when he first shared news of his assignment and they didn't speak properly for weeks. He missed her even when he was with her. Her distance became emotional as well as physical. Every interaction they had was tinged with hostility.

He still remembered the tears, her pleas for him to stay, he would be a liar if he said it didn't affect him. It was one of the last images of her seared like a microfiche into his brain. He promised her that the tour would be his last, he would serve out the obligatory months left of his commitment and quit the service. His promises meant nothing. He left with them still on bad terms.

For Gabe it had been easy to pretend nothing was happening in his marriage and to postpone that conversation, he was used to compartmentalising everything. He went out on missions, not knowing what dangers lurked around each corner and he focused on taking each day and night as they came. Alice would come around, she always did.

He had a short break after his mission was finished in Iraq. They were going to talk and compromise like adults. He couldn't stand her being angry with him. He could feel her anger like radio waves even with the oceans and landmass separating them.

Throughout their marriage, Alice had weaponised her anger, where Gabe was quick to anger and quick to cool down; Alice simmered to a boil and seemed to grow cold again. He never thought she'd do that when he was away, though. When he could do nothing but miss her and wait for her to initiate contact.

He had phoned her to let her know he was going to be home in a day or two; he didn't think she'd pick up the phone. But she did and they had a stilted conversation, with miles of words unsaid.

He didn't think she'd be happy if he surprised her. They weren't that type of couple anymore. Her pause and reluctance in speaking to him stoked the dying vestiges of his anger. He had done everything in his power to stay in contact and stay safe. So he could come home to her.

It was then that she told him.

No bomb could compare to the words she uttered. Deafening and devastating. His body twisted up at her words. She had known for months but didn't tell him, going to medical appointments alone and even starting chemotherapy without his knowledge whilst he had been in Iraq.

It felt like a punishment. From God. From her. For choosing the military and putting himself first. And at that moment he wanted to be struck down by a bomb. He would do anything to undo the beautiful and healthy wife he had left behind having cancer. Anything.

But I chose you and I'm here. He wanted to shout and scream when he came home. Yet, they never had that conversation. It hung in the air. Unspoken and uncomfortable.

He cared for her and held her hand as the poison cursed through her veins in the debilitating treatment for her blood cancer. He watched her vomit out her guts, and lose weight, her appetite and her hair. He watched her and that's all he did. That's all he could do.

Sometimes when her cheek was pressed to the toilet-seat, her face pale and clammy with cold sweat, he could see the accusation in her eyes. I should be sick with joy, with morning sickness, with a baby. Not this. And he couldn't stop the pervasive feeling of somehow being at fault.

Time was a thief.

As quickly as the diagnosis was made, the quicker still her cancer spread and progressed. The months flew by and sometimes they crawled like an injured insect; filled with hospital visits, chemotherapy, nausea, physical pain and emotional agony.

They never got back to that place, the relationship he had ruined by leaving. They slept in different bedrooms, they hardly spoke, he didn't know if it just hurt to talk or it hurt to talk to him.

Ella had flown in to their lives, upending her own. She was a great help, serving as a conduit between them and for a while, Alice got her zest back and things were better. Still tentative roommates but at least civil.

They had barely begun to fight the cancer, he was battle trained and none of his skill and expertise could help her through it. She went along with it, for him, for Ella; her body limp and small. But the fight had gone out of her eyes a long time ago.

She passed away eight months after her diagnosis; leaving Gabe bereft; riddled with guilt and anger. He was angry at her, and at himself. Had she told him earlier, he would have been straight down on the next flight. He was angry that she didn't give him the opportunity to choose her. Had she given him the choice, it would have been her. It would have always been her.

The nights were the hardest. Regret, grief, guilt and bloody desert memories mixing into his own personal nightmare. He had done well to avoid drinking and sleeping pills, instead throwing himself into work and keeping a gruelling term time schedule. When he stood still, that's when the past caught up with him and he avoided that at all costs.

"Watch the snap!" Gabe shouted out, growing more exasperated by the minute, as the ball once again missed its mark, flying into a no-man's land.

He walked over to his quarterback. "Don't overthink it, focus on completing passes. Completion, completion completion. That's the key." He slapped him on the shoulder.

"Alright, run that play back until we get it perfect." True to his word, he made them do it until they could do it in their sleep. The aim was to pump the ball quickly from the snap to the 10 yard line and incrementally push up the offensive line into the touchdown box.

They weren't going to win with big flashy touchdowns, what they lacked in finesse, they more than made up for in grit and hard work. Steady wins the race was going to be their mantra.

She was watching him with a smile, leaning against the bleachers at the far end of the football field where it converged into a field of unkempt grass.

Her students milled around her equipped with various science instruments, quadrants and plastic containers, chattering excitedly. Happy to be away from the stuffy classroom, no doubt. She was squinting against the sun, and her smile got wider when she saw him jogging lightly towards her.

"Hello stranger." She uncrossed her arms, shielding her eyes as she looked up towards his height.

"Hey yourself," Gabe replied staring down at her.

He didn't know why he had come, they were meant to be subtle around the students, logically they had no reason to be speaking and standing so close, being from completely different departments.

But just the sight of her gave him a relief he couldn't explain. Like loosening a necktie after a long day of meetings. He wanted to reach out and feel the warmth of her touch, so he could feel real and present. Grounded. She had that effect on him.

She frowned, taking in the circles under his eyes and his quieter than usual demeanour. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine, just a bit tired." He stifled a yawn, that came on cue at the mention of how little sleep he had gotten the night before.

"Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?" She asked shyly, a red tinge on her cheeks. He couldn't help the way that his lips curled up into an involuntary half-smile in response.

"I'm not sure I'll be good company." He was tired and he was in a pensive mood.

"That's okay, we can just eat and watch a movie. Nothing too taxing."

Her offer was getting more tempting, and he had missed her. He could do with a reprieve from his thoughts. He felt like he had been under a cloud that he couldn't shake off the whole day.

"Okay," he agreed watching the imperceptible widening of her eyes at his acceptance of her invitation, and he liked that he made her a little nervous. She made him nervous too.

"Great. Come round whenever you finish up here."

"Will do." He jogged back to where Jimmy, the new assistant coach, was addressing the team. He felt her eyes remain on him and he liked the feeling, the cloud was starting to dissipate.