by Malcom, Anne
“I’m not the same girl as I was when I was eighteen,” I said, deciding to go for a different tactic. “Not even the woman I was eight weeks ago. This is not the story where there’s the happy ever after. This is what happens after the damsel is saved,” I whispered. “They never show you that because that would ruin it all. Wreck it all. Because the damsel isn’t really saved in the end. Not this one at least.”
“I’m not tryin’ to save you, Sunshine,” he said, taking me into his arms as if he was. “Just lookin’ for you.”
“Are you really looking for me, Heath?” I asked, grasping at emotional straws. “Second chance romances don’t work. Or in our case, third chance,” I said. “Of course in movies and books they do because they’re written by some heartbroken artist who is hoping to create their future, that impossible happy ending. And because most of us are lost, heartbroken souls, we rework those stories to fit our situation. Which isn’t hard, because heartbreak is always the same. And we always want the same thing, either for it to stop hurting so much, or it to hurt more when the person comes back. So we watch those movies. Read those books. Imagine, pray that those stories will come to life. It’s nice.”
I smiled.
“Really nice to do when things are dark and ugly in the present and you can find some solace in the marriage of an embellished past and am impossible future.”
My smile failed as I focused on him.
“It’s lovely and nice, but it doesn’t work. Not when years have passed, and the world has changed around us, and we haven’t.” I paused. “Changed, that is.”
I roved my eyes over the outside changes that had nothing on the inside changes.
“Life is still the same, but it’s intrinsically different. That feeling, that...” I trailed off in order to find the courage. I met his eyes. “That love survived the years, but only because it’s attached to a memory, it will not survive when we try to attach it to what we are now.”
What I am now, was what I didn’t say. What I couldn’t. I didn’t need to anyway. It was the elephant in the room, pressing on my lungs. On my heart.
He was silent for a long time. It was something I was getting used to, but it still made me uncomfortable, a person who always reacted, spoke, laughed, cried, jumped immediately, on initial reaction, on instinct.
Heath worked on instinct too. But it was a warrior’s instinct. Analyzing all the options, all possible threats, all ways to attack, to defend, to survive. I wondered if it was a throwaway from the war. But I thought about the war as something that required action without thought. Wasn’t that the whole point of basic training? To drum out those pesky unpredictable personality traits in order to promote the appropriate split second predictable responses in a soldier.
I found another yawning gap in my knowledge of the person who had consumed my mind and heart for so long. I did not know what lurked in those pockets of silence. When he just stared, silent, intense. Was something yanking at him? Something from before? Something horrible I couldn’t fathom? Couldn’t imagine, let alone live through?
I found myself utterly desperate to pry open his brain and dive into that darkness I knew I couldn’t handle. That I knew would wreck me. For the simple fact it might close that gap between us. I wanted to live his horror so I could find a way to give him peace.
But there was no way to pry open a human being’s memories without doing damage to them. And I would not do any more damage to Heath. Not even for my own peace.
Especially not for my own.
Heath yanked me closer to him, brows furrowed slightly as if he could read my thoughts the way I wished I could read his.
His hands fastened on either side of my neck. “I don’t know about all of that, baby,” he murmured. “Know my love for you has survived a lot and it sure as shit hasn’t made it through everything just to die when I’ve finally brought it to life.” His eyes searched mine. “But even if you are right, I’ll fall in love with you all over again. I’ll learn about what’s changed in you, I’ll make sure there’s never a moment when you don’t remember that the past is nothing but the past and our future is together.”
I blinked. “You love me?”
He blinked back. “Come on, babe. Everything we’ve been through, everything you see in me? You can’t see that?” In the midst of this moment, Heath’s voice held a hint of teasing.
“We’ve never said it to each other,” I whispered.
He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, we have.”
And I knew what he meant. That every look, every fight, every moment from the night in the bar was saturated with it. It didn’t make sense. To love someone after a collection of chaotic moments.
But with me, wasn’t my life just a series of chaotic moments?
But wasn’t love supposed to bring you peace?
“Love doesn’t have to be peaceful to bring you peace,” he murmured, showing me I’d said that last thought aloud.
Heath laid his lips gently to mine.
And I wasn’t overcome with fear, panic, and revulsion. All that was there, of course, but not as overwhelming as before.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sunshine,” he promised. “’Cause I’m looking for peace in your chaos too.”
Chapter Eighteen
I came out of my room and was no longer surprised to see Lucy and Keltan standing there bickering over the harm it would do Lucy to have one sip of coffee.
“Not happenin’,” Keltan said, folding his arms.
And of course, he thought the subject was closed, because these males—still after being married to women like Lucy and Rosie—thought that a firm tone and a crossing of muscled arms somehow cemented a decision.
“Fine,” Lucy said, and I blinked in surprise.
Maybe pregnancy had finally mellowed her.
And we had approximately six weeks to enjoy that mellowness.
“I’ll just have a glass of wine at dinner.” She folded her own arms, albeit awkwardly since her protruding belly was in the way.
Or maybe she wasn’t mellow. Like at all.
“How in the fuck do you go from thinking one sip of coffee won’t hurt the baby to one glass of wine?” he demanded.
“Well, the baby’s already grown, so I’m sure it’s fine anyway. It’s really just...marinating. But you will get hurt if you keep this up, buddy.”
I could’ve watched this forever. It made me warm in places that were now almost always cold. Reminded me of the reasons not to let it win. The darkness. Because of my sister. Because of her happiness. And that little baby.
I wanted to watch it forever and warm myself up in front of their lives and pretend for as long as I could that my coldness wouldn’t come back as soon as I stopped watching.
But I couldn’t pretend around someone like Keltan.
“Polly,” he said, yanking Lucy to his side and kissing the top of her head. His palm settled protectively over her belly.
She scowled at him but relaxed into his arms.
I braced myself for her smile. Because it was forced, full of sadness. It was ice water to my bones. Lucy didn’t know she was doing it. It would break her heart if she did. It was a smile she put on for me because she was scared I couldn’t handle anything else from her. I was still to be treated with kid gloves and Polly gloves.
It hit me when her eyes dimmed a little, losing the brightness they’d had moments ago.
It hit me. Right in the chest. But it wasn’t hard since there was a constant gaping and bleeding hole right above where my heart should be. Despite the beautiful words and promises Heath made last night. Despite the fact I fell asleep in his arms and woke up to his lips on my forehead and him murmuring goodbye, promising to see me soon.
It would’ve been nice if such things could heal that big bleeding hole.
It only dulled the edges of the pain.
So obviously I turned on a megawatt smile to hide it.
“Don’t you two have like, jobs or homes to go to?” I asked cheer
fully, walking toward the kitchen and snatching my reusable coffee cup from the counter.
“I don’t have a job since they kept sending me home,” Lucy huffed.
“Babe, you couldn’t fit behind your fuckin’ desk,” Keltan said dryly.
“Make one more remark about my size,” Lucy shot. “I dare you, soldier boy.”
I smiled as I filled up my cup with hot water and tea.
There was a pause.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Lucy said. “Keltan owns his place and the whole point of owning a business is so you don’t actually have to go to work.”
“Not the point of owning a business, at all, babe,” Keltan cut in.
“How is it that you have the bravery to continue baiting a pregnant woman with access to a knife?” she asked curiously.
Keltan chuckled. “Lucy, I confiscated your knife about three months into your pregnancy when you threatened to slash the tires of the guy who cut in front of you at Taco Bell.”
I fastened the lid and grinned at Keltan. “Good call.”
He grinned back at me.
He was one of the only people whose grin was almost genuine. Maybe because of what he’d experienced from war. Because there were parts of him that had been broken and he knew that there was no healing them by treating me like glass. I was sure Lucy and Rosie knew this too, since they had experience with pain, but they didn’t want to admit it.
Lucy rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever, dude,” she muttered. “If this kid’s a girl then I’ll be sure to hide all of the firearms on her first date, see whose laughing then.”
Keltan’s eyes darkened. “No fuckin’ way is my daughter dating until she’s forty,” he hissed.
I laughed.
It was almost genuine.
“We’re here because we thought we’d take you out for breakfast,” Lucy said, deciding to go back to ignoring her husband. “This new healthy vegan place just opened in Santa Monica and it’s supposed to not actually be terrible.”
Right.
This was just one in a long line of excuses that had one or both of the two of these people at my door.
It was part of the ‘wait for Polly to fall apart’ schedule.
I didn’t blame them. Firstly, they loved and cared about me. And second, I was Polly.
So there were impromptu breakfasts, shopping trips to decorate nurseries, movie dates. Lunch dates.
And in Rosie’s case, a day at the gun range. Or she’d planned it to be a day, but it had to get cut very short when I refused to touch a gun.
“As much as I love a good vegan restaurant, and I love watching you trying to eat vegan food without insulting someone’s fashion choices, and I do,” I smirked at Lucy, “I’ve got a class to go to.”
Lucy’s pretend smile dimmed immediately.
“What?”
“A yoga class,” I clarified, moving across the room to strap my yoga mat across my shoulder. “It’s part of my teaching certification.”
“No, you can’t go to yoga,” she said.
“Why not?” I asked, meeting her eyes. “Because I’m meant to be passed from one person to another, to be coddled and protected from the very world that has already done the damage?” I smiled. “No, Luce. As much as I appreciate and love you for everything you’ve done, and I do, I need to get back to my life.”
I hadn’t told Heath about this.
Not because I didn’t think he’d let me go. I knew he’d support me moving back toward my old life, even if I was just going through the motions. I hadn’t told him because I was scared of where that conversation would lead. Terrified it would lead to somewhere I couldn’t control my emotions. Somewhere too close to the truth, the past.
“There’s no rush,” Lucy said, stepping forward. “I know you’re Polly and you’ve been in a rush to do everything including leave the womb six weeks early, but this is something that you do not need to rush.” Her voice was only slightly more than a whisper when she took my hands in hers.
“I do,” I whispered back. “Because rushing was my life. It kept me sane. Kept me, me. Staying still doesn’t work for me, Luce. It works for you and it warms my soul that it does, but if I stand still for much longer I’ll scream.”
Lucy gauged my words. With shimmering eyes and pain in her face.
She squeezed my hands again.
“Okay. I get it,” she said finally. “I don’t get the whole yoga thing, it sounds fucking insane, but I get the rest. And I do kind of get we’ve been hovering. I know it’s selfish of us to suffocate you like that.”
“It’s not suffocating,” I argued.
She leaned in to kiss my forehead. “But it’s not helping. Not really. I should’ve seen it earlier. You need people around when most people need space, so it stands to reason when most people need company, you need space.”
“No,” I whispered. “Just peace.”
As if it were as simple as leaving the apartment and teaching yoga.
But it was a start.
* * *
I should’ve expected Heath to be waiting in the parking lot for me.
I didn’t. Because even after a month of having him come home to me, fall asleep with me and always be there, I wasn’t used to it. I wasn’t letting myself become used to it.
Not when it was temporary.
My muscles ached slightly from the class, the instructor pushing us past our limits because “you’re not going to be able to take your students from your comfort zone if you’re still residing in yours.”
I liked it. Challenging myself in a safe environment. Even if I was prodding at doors that rattled when I opened my mind up in the practice. I knew the more I practiced, the more dangerous it would be. Yoga was more about the discovery of the mind than the stretching of the limbs, after all.
My skin prickled at that realization.
If I continued doing this, I’d have no choice but to face my demons. Luckily, those thoughts didn’t find traction, since Heath was pushing off his car—which he was leaning on very well—and striding toward me.
He didn’t give me a moment to speak before he pulled me into his arms with a gentleness that was characteristic of the way he touched me now. It was funny, people only tended to treat others with tenderness after they’d been broken.
His lips pressed to mine, gentle too, but with a slight hunger that I wanted to respond to. To feel. I almost did. I felt it, somewhere. The need for him. But it was buried in shame, in filth, in pain.
“Did Lucy call you?” I asked when he released me slightly, hands still resting on my hips. He was touching me more often now. It was getting easier to bear. Only with him, though.
I wondered if I’d ever get to a point where there wasn’t five seconds of revulsion to bear before relaxing—as much as I could—into Heath’s arms. If I’d be able to hug my sister without wanting to tear the skin from my bones. If I could shake someone’s hand again without having to run to the bathroom and scrub my own.
“What do you think?” Heath asked in response to my Lucy question.
He was good at that, yanking me from my mind the second things got too...prickly.
I looked into his eyes and let them hold me in the moment. “I think she called you the second I left,” I replied with a slight grin.
He nodded in response.
I let out a sigh and relaxed into Heath’s arms on instinct. His eyes flared at this since it was something I hadn’t done before, but otherwise, he didn’t acknowledge it.
“And do you agree with her rant that she no doubt repeated to you?” I asked. “Do you think it’s too soon?” I nodded my head back to the studio, waving to my instructor as I did so.
He waved back and inclined his head into a small bow.
Heath gave him an oh so manly chin lift.
I was surprised he was here after the class if Lucy called him so soon. He was all about protecting me. And I would’ve thought he was on the same wavelength as Lucy, poor, broken Polly couldn’t ge
t back to her life yet. Not when she hasn’t shed a tear. Spoken a word about what happened to her.
They were waiting for that.
But they weren’t going to get it.
Heath’s eyes darkened. “If you don’t think it’s too soon, then, no,” he said quietly, running his hands along my jaw lightly. There were no bruises there anymore. But his eyes followed the roadmap of pain that was only showing on the inside now the marks had faded.
“As much as I’d like to keep you close within touching distance so I never have to relive those sixteen hours again, I can’t,” he continued, eyes meeting mine. “‘Cause I want you free. Want you to be Polly.”
“You want me to be Polly,” I repeated, the words ashes in my mouth.
His eyes searched mine. “Always.”
I paused, chewing on those simple words that were not at all simple. I couldn’t say I’d never be Polly. That Polly was lost and there was this...imposter in her place. No, I couldn’t say that out loud because I was afraid of what else I’d say.
So, in the middle of a parking lot, I said something else.
“We haven’t addressed this, not really,” I whispered.
Heath furrowed his brows, obviously not expecting this response. “What?”
“Us,” I clarified. “We only...reconnected...before.” That almost hunger sparked again at the memory of that beautiful time in his apartment and Heath’s hands at my hips flexed.
I sucked in a breath as panic chased that warmth away with the reality of what happened after. I tried to focus on that night. The night before everything was shattered. But it was hard to hold onto beauty when ugliness clutched onto your soul.
“There was no talking,” I continued my voice rough. “No going over everything. No going over anything. And then we’re here. And it’s like, we’re...”
“Exactly where we’re meant to be,” he finished for me. “It wasn’t meant to be. Not how we got here. I’d change that if I could. Would give anything to change it. But I can’t. So I gotta take the small favors where I can.” His thumb brushed over my lips and I shivered at the contact.
And that almost hunger sparked up again. Teased at the bottom of my stomach. Fought against the ugliness residing there.