He had been walking for miles as Lacey trotted along in front of him. That dog never forgot how to get home after a hike. It was especially cold for December, the lake had frozen over weeks ago. Above him he could see the white December sky, through empty tree branches. It looked as if a painter had just thrown branches on a canvas, the tree cover in winter so simple. It was nearing the end of daylight, and this white December sky would soon transition to a blanket of black, speckled only with the stars, if they decide to grace him with their presence.

The house was in sight now. Lacey made a mad dash, there was no leash holding her back. She hasn’t needed one since a pup. The little German Shepard mix runt, how he loved that dog. The one loving being close to his heart has four paws and a deep growl. On this particular afternoon, Lacey’s mad dash didn’t have her heading for the food bowl. She ran in the direction of the lake, and his heart sank. He could already see where this was going.

“Lacey!” He shouted desperately but to no avail. There she was, creeping across the far end of the lake. Running toward her, waving for her to get toward the house, he was in full gear. His senses heightened, adrenaline rushing, dopamine spiking, he was ready. He should be prepared for these emergencies after all, eight years in the marine corps doesn’t leave a man non-expecting. He is vigilant and aware, to a crippling extent. It ruins his existence, his whole being.

He keeps yelling at her, this dog just does not listen. He’s convinced she’s neurologically impaired, from being the runt. Now heading toward the edge of the frozen lake, he drops his bag. His mind is a whirlwind of preparation, he empties his bag and grabs the rope and rock. Ties a not, just like he was trained to.

Shed the thick winter coat.

Drop his hat.

Gently, he lays on the ice and slides his body over to the dog. Lacey looks at him like he’s ruining her moment, raining on her parade. Now the challenge will be to lead her on to the path to the house because she’s stubborn. She doesn’t realize this is only a thin freeze and one wrong move means game over.

He’s got her roped, rock is attached for weight to keep her from running back at him. He gets about three feet from the edge and then it happens. Just has he goes to stand, he hears the crackling around him. Thinking quickly he grabs the rock and throws it, along with the dog, as far as he possibly can. And just then, the frozen lake cracked beneath his feet.

In that split second drop, he saw his whole life flash before his eyes. He saw Sarah, his wife who left after the PTSD became too hard to bear. He saw her, clear as day, taking his son and daughter with her. He saw her loading up the car, after years of many fights and slammed doors, tears and threats of leaving. He saw the look on his daughter's face, she was so young and here she was losing her father, this man who once held her on his shoulders now cannot even hold her hand. He saw his anger, in retrospect his lack of control and his desperation. He saw who he had become after years of conditioning to become a strong, vigilant protector. Who was he protecting? He hadn’t protected them from himself, from whom they should never have needed protecting. He saw his life with different eyes, while submerged in that water. It was like a baptism of the body due to the sub-zero temperature. He was paralyzed, how had he allowed this? How has it come to this? And now this is how it ends, he couldn’t save them the heartache in life, he is going to cause them more in death. All those years of service, training, conditioning. It all got him here, defenseless to his condition. He was a failure father, a failure husband.

But then he realized.

He was also a marine.

It was in that moment he realized that he had the option to die a man who struggled in life after service, or save himself and go grab his life and change it. He had the training. He could tread oceans, this was numbing and stabbing cold but this was possible. He used what strength the cold had not stolen, and broke the ice in front of him, his arms like ship propellers. His strokes were determined, calculated, even in hypothermic conditions. He finally reached that edge.

He pulled himself up.

He saw the dog. She’s been barking and wailing but he couldn’t hear it, his ears ringing and the pressure from the cold water submersion. He grabbed that coat he shed and laid there. He thought he fought for nothing. He thought his heart was stopping. He closed his eyes.

Then it was ringing.

Not only his ears, but actual ringing.

His phone, from his bag. He rolled over. Sarah calling.

“Hello?” His greeting was a question. She never calls with good purpose.

“Hi, I just thought I’d tell you that Riley won her match and she’s going to nationals. Which are close to where you are. She wants to find time to see you. I told her don’t hold her breath.”

He said after holding his breath, with a crack in his voice “I would love to see her. And you. When?”

He walked up to the house, turned on the heat full blast and started to boil water for tea. He sat down, and got lost in thought. The whistle of the kettle came blaring, startled him. He poured the water. And just like that, through new eyes, he saw his life again. He looked out the window at the lake and smirked, then at the dog, and smiled. If not for that lake, and that dog, he’d be living as the same shell of a person he was that morning. He turned to the fridge, took the therapists card down, and picked up the phone. In fifteen years since his divorce he couldn’t get himself to pick up that card and dial that number, and ask for help. When all it took was for the frozen lake to crack beneath his feet.