The Loss Between Us

by Brooke McBride

  The guilt and shame I see in his eyes reaches into me and moves me to act. I’m no longer paralyzed. I lean closer and lace my fingers with his, holding on so that our strength can move back and forth between one another like a current. “So do you. It was an accident.”

  “No, it was a mistake. Mistakes can be prevented.”

  I shake my head. He doesn’t know it, but we’re the same. Those feelings of guilt and shame for being the reason another person is no longer on this earth connects us in a way that other people could never understand.

  I squeeze his hand. “Tell me about him.”

  “Mark?”

  “Yeah, tell me about him.”

  “You’re changing the subject so we don’t have to talk about my feelings for you..”

  “Nash…” I feel too raw, too exposed. Maybe I knew there might be more between Nash and me. But it wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t in the right place. I’m not sure I am now. I don’t want to hurt him, so I choose my words carefully. “I don’t think right now is the best time to talk about your feelings for me. I thought it might help if you had a chance to tell me about Mark.”

  “My feelings? Are they…just mine, Jen?” he asks in a grudging voice. I can’t blame him. He just put it all out there. And I’m too afraid to tell him what I’ve felt between us. He watches me, waiting for me to respond but when I don’t he says, “Mark was my best friend, and I’ve come to terms with the fact that if the roles were reversed and he was driving that night and I had died, I wouldn’t want him wasting his life. He would want me to be happy because that’s what I would want for him. So I know if he was here right now, he would tell me to shut the hell up about him and my feelings and worry about my girl. So that’s what I’m going to do.”

  His girl? My stomach does flip-flops hearing him say that, and I can’t help the flush that creeps up my neck and over my cheeks.

  “Jen, I know you’re scared. I am too. I know you feel guilty, like you don’t deserve this. I do too. But we can’t ignore it anymore. Admit it. Admit you feel it. What’s between us…”

  He grips my arms with both hands. There are two different people inside of me. The grieving widow who thinks she should pull away and remain alone, forever. And then there’s this other person I am when I’m with Nash. I don’t know who she is, but she wants to lean into him. She wants to feel his strong arms wrap around her back as he pulls her close to him, and never let her go.

  But I don’t think I can tell him that. I don’t think I can say it out loud. And I feel like I need more time. My eyes shift to the clock as I think about time, and I see that it’s almost 6:00 a.m. “Nash, it’s almost six o’clock. Do you have to work today?”

  He sighs. “Yeah, but I took Trent’s night shift, so I probably need to get home and get some sleep.”

  “I guess you better go, then.” I go to move my body so he can get up, but he pulls me back down.

  “You’re coming with me.”

  “What?”

  “I broke your door. You can’t stay here, not in this neighborhood. And knowing your landlord, who knows when he’ll fix it. I can come over tomorrow after I sleep a little and fix it. And at some point, between then and now, we’re going to finish this conversation.”

  I sigh. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

  “I just want you to be honest with me. If you can tell me right now that you’ve never had any feelings for me stronger than friendship, I’ll walk out that door. I’ll never mention it again, and we’ll be friends.”

  As much as the grieving widow is screaming inside of me to say just that, my other persona wins out and shoves her back down so she can’t be heard. But it seems that persona isn’t ready to talk either, so I say nothing.

  “That’s what I thought. Let’s go back to my place, get some sleep, and then we’ll talk. I know I laid a lot on you tonight.”

  He rises and tries to take me with him, but I push off of him. I need some distance. He strides toward me but keeps his hands to himself. He then leans down so that he’s eye level with me, and I watch as his pupils dilate when he starts to lean in. I feel my eyes close, and desire comes alive inside of me. The next thing I feel is his breath on my face before I hear him sigh. My eyes fly open in surprise and he grabs my hand. “Come on, you look like hell.”

  I laugh. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “I told you where I stand, Jen. You know what I want. But you need some time to figure things out, so I’m going to give it to you. I also know if I don’t drag your ass out of here right now, you’ll spend the next hour analyzing the crap out of things, and we both need sleep. This mess will still be here when we wake up.”

  Chapter 42

  I need a few minutes away from Nash, so I tell him that I’m going to run upstairs and grab a few things since I probably won’t be back until late tomorrow.

  “Do you need help?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll be right back.” I take the stairs two at a time, run into my bedroom closet, and grab my overnight bag. I then sit on the bed for a few minutes and realize he’s right. I’m starting to analyze so I stop. I throw in some jeans and a T-shirt, go to the bathroom and grab a few things, and then come back down stairs. Nash looks up at me and I smirk. “I’m not the only one who looks like hell.”

  “I bet. That’s why we need to go. I need to get some sleep before I go in.” He grabs my bag, and we walk out the front door. I go to lock it, but it will barely close, so why bother? I hope no one notices the broken door because anyone could come and go as they please.

  “Do you want me to drive my car?”

  “Nah. You can use my truck today or tomorrow if you need it, since I’ll be working tonight. I’ll take S.J.” He winks at me and I smile back.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling into his driveway. He grabs my bag again and we head to the front door, where he unlocks it and guides me in.

  He throws his keys on the table, and then he disappears down the hall with my bag. When he walks back out, he’s carrying a pillow and blanket but doesn’t have my bag.

  “Where’s my bag?”

  “I took it to my room.” He walks to the couch throwing a pillow and blanket down.

  “Ummm.”

  He stops. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m confused? Why is my bag in your room?”

  “Because that’s where you’re going to sleep.”

  I feel myself start to panic. Or is it excitement? What the hell? But I’m afraid he’s misunderstood the situation.

  His eyebrows shoot up. “I’m sleeping out here, Jen, and giving you my bed. Sorry I didn’t make that clear.”

  I exhale, relieved. Or disappointed?

  “Wow, now I know how you really feel.” I feel flustered as his comments are shooting at me faster than I can respond. He lightly touches my arm before saying, “Hey, I’m just messing with you. Go—I’m beat. I just washed the sheets two nights ago, so they’re practically clean.”

  “Nash, let me sleep on the couch. You have to work tonight.”

  “Jen, I’m not going to make you sleep on this crappy couch, so go.” He spreads out the blanket, making sure it covers the entire couch, and then he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head. My face flushes as arousal courses through my body. Dammit. I hate when Olivia is right. I try to ignore his muscles as they stretch and flex as he moves about getting situated for bed. He bends over to tuck the blanket into the side of the couch, and all of the air leaves my body. How have I never noticed his butt? I’m not sure it’s even fair to the other butts in the world to call it a butt. I wonder how many squats he’s done in his life to get that round mold just the perfect shape. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t jiggle even if he was covered in Jell-O.

  “Did you need something?”

  Oh dear Lord. How long have I been standing here staring at his ass? Wait, do I need something?

  “What? No! What! I just…um… no. I don’t know!” I back u
p, willing my feet to find the hallway, when my own butt runs into a lamp behind me, knocking it to the ground. I bend over to pick it up when I feel Nash’s hand grabbing me by the arm and pulling me up.

  “You’re blushing,” he whispers.

  I’m unable to look him in the eyes. Instead I stare at his chest. His very tan, very defined and masculine chest. “You’re practically naked,” I whisper back.

  I feel that chest vibrate, and I realize that both of my hands are gently resting on it. It’s warm and smooth and making me rethink this whole talk about our feelings later situation.

  “Sorry, I don’t sleep in a lot of clothes. I still have pants on.”

  “Pants, yes I’m aware. It’s like the pant company made those pants just for your ass.” My eyes travel downward, where they be shouldn’t be traveling, and he laughs again. And I want to die. What is wrong with me?

  “Jen…go to bed. Now,” he says with a strained voice.

  I have the urge to pull him with me, but I don’t. I force my feet to take baby steps. Steps that get me further and further away from him. Further and further away from the confusion and the desire. They finally make their way into his bedroom and I see my bag at the end of the bed. I remove my shoes and sit them next to it, and then lay my useless phone on the nightstand. In his bed, the smell of Nash engulfs me. The smell calms me, and I focus on that calm before my mind has a chance to spin. I force my eyes closed, knowing these feelings and the problems that come with them will be here when I wake up.

  Chapter 43

  I roll over and see Nash coming out of the closet with his uniform on.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  I glance at the clock. “It’s past 8:00 p.m.? I should probably get up.” I sit up and stretch my arms over my head.

  He laughs. “I was thinking the same thing. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for hours. Did you have a hard time falling asleep?”

  “No actually, and I slept really well. I didn’t want to admit it to you, but you’re right about the neighborhood. I haven’t been sleeping much.”

  He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed next to me. “You don’t have to stay there, you know.”

  I laugh. “It’s where I live, Nash. Where else am I supposed to stay?”

  “You haven’t sold the house, have you?”

  I sigh. “No, but I can’t go back there. I’d feel like I was taking two steps back, and it was too hard to leave in the first place. I think the only thing that got me through it was that I was pissed off at everybody.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  I smile. “It’s all right.”

  “Not really. But look, I’ll buy a door in the morning on my way home and install it after I get some sleep. It should only take me a few hours. That way I can just take care of it, and we don’t have to worry about your lousy landlord doing it.”

  “Nash, you don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I do. I haven’t slept much either since you moved into that place, so it’s helping me too. There’s food in the fridge or you can order a pizza or something. There’s some money in the drawer by the refrigerator.”

  “Nash, I have money.”

  “I know, but we left in a hurry, so I didn’t know what you had on you. But help yourself. My shift ends at 7:00 a.m., but it all depends on what’s going on. I shouldn’t be much later than that, though.”

  “Okay, I’m probably going to eat something, maybe watch some TV, and then go back to bed.”

  “I’ll see you when I get home. Oh, and here…” He stands and sets a key down on the nightstand by my phone.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Just in case.”

  “Nash, I don’t need a key.”

  “Keep it. And don’t take it the wrong way. It’s just a friend giving another friend a key for emergencies. Oh, and I have a friend who may be able to fix your phone, so I’m taking it with me.” He grabs my phone and heads toward the bedroom door.

  “Nash.”

  He stops and looks back at me. “Yeah?”

  I have a million things I want to say to him, but I don’t know where to start. Neither my brain nor my heart have the nerve to say anything except “Be safe.”

  He smiles and says, “Always.” And then he’s gone.

  I hear him walk through the front door and deadbolt it behind him. After using the bathroom I move to the kitchen and find a frozen pizza. I eat, clean up the kitchen, and find nothing interesting on TV, so I pick up a newspaper lying on Nash’s coffee table. I search for the section I need, and once I find it I throw the rest of the paper on the floor and spread out the paper on the table.

  It’s time. If I’m not going to be a lawyer, I need to do something to make a living. I have a college degree, so this isn’t the best place to look for a job. But I need to start somewhere.

  Scrolling through the classifieds, I see jobs for sales positions, childcare, healthcare, and numerous other things that I’m either not qualified for or not interested in. I remind myself to not be too picky. I’ve backed myself into a corner. As long as the house is on the market, I don’t have much choice but to find steady work.

  As I’m scrolling through the classifieds, my mind begins to drift back to this morning. I should have seen it. I should have known there was more to him. But I was too focused on myself and trying to survive. I can’t imagine what he’s gone through all these years. I start to feel sad. Sad for Nash. Sad for Mark’s family. Sad for Nash’s family. I may have had a little more compassion for Julia if I had known. But it wasn’t her place to share that with me. I then wonder if Nash has told her about us. Us?

  There’s no us, Jensen. I lean my head onto my hand and rub my forehead back and forth before deciding to put the paper away. I lie down on the couch and snuggle under the blanket Nash used last night.

  I’m startled by a warm touch on my arm. I open my eyes to Nash sitting on the edge of the couch and smiling down at me. “What are you doing out here?”

  I look around and see the sunlight shining in. “I must have fallen asleep, sorry.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost 9:00 a.m. Sorry I’m late. My shift ended late, and then I picked up some stuff for your rental. And this.”

  He hands me my phone with a new screen, and I’m relieved. I feel like a limb has been reattached. “He fixed it?”

  “Yep. I dropped it off last night on my way into work and picked it up just now.”.”

  Propping myself up I say, “Thank you.”

  “Sure. Hungry? I was going to make some breakfast.”

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  He moves into the kitchen. “I bought two new steel-enforced doors, new deadbolts, and locks for the first floor windows.”

  I stand and grimace. He lied about the couch being comfortable. “Nash, that sounds expensive and like a lot of work.”

  I walk into the kitchen and watch as Nash takes out eggs, milk, sour cream, and salsa, and sets it all on the counter. “What are you doing?”

  He looks up at me like I have three heads. “Making breakfast?”

  “Oh. You usually cook like this?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I mean no, never. I’m doing this just to be a gentleman.” He winks at me and smiles, and it makes me feel like I’m the most important woman in the world. I need some space from Mr. Wonderful.

  I head toward the bathroom but turn around and say, “Well, whatever your reason, I’ll take it.”

  I come back to the kitchen after freshening up to see Nash setting the table. “How was work?”

  “Good. Nothing too traumatic. How about you—what did you do?”

  “Ate some pizza and looked through the classifieds.”

  “See anything intriguing?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you have something in mind?”

  “Nope.”

  He sits down and I follow.

  He scoop
s some scrambled eggs out of a skillet onto a plate and hands it to me. “No biggie. It’s not like you need to decide right now. You have time.”

  “I appreciate the support, Nash, but you’re wrong. I do need to decide. It’s doesn’t have to be a life-long career decision, but it needs to be some kind of decision.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know what to say. You and I haven’t really talked about this.”

  “Because I haven’t wanted to talk about it. I’ve never seriously considered another career and don’t really know where to start.”

  “Why did you want to become a lawyer?”

  “After reading To Kill A Mockingbird.” I shrug my shoulders. “I know, cliché.”

  “Well, what else inspires you?”

  I chuckle. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been inspired.” His fork is midway to his mouth when he stops and narrows his eyes. A slow smirk forms on his face, but I have no idea why. “What’s that face for?”

  “I bet I know something that would inspire you.”

  “Why am I now scared?”

  “Because I think you already know what I’m thinking.”

  “I do?” I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about.

  “You do, you just don’t want to admit it.”

  “Um…?”

  “I think it’s time I introduced you to Shirley, Junior.”

  “Nash, be serious.” I rise to take my plate to the sink.

  “I am!” He follows me with his own plate.

  I turn on the water and rinse off my plate before placing it in the dishwasher. When I turn, Nash is in front of me with pleading eyes. I can’t imagine him as a little boy and not getting everything he wanted. I cross my arms and lean against the counter. “How is riding a motorcycle going to inspire me?”

  His body is still as he leans down, forcing us to be eye to eye. He then places his arms on both side of me, pinning me in, and his chest lightly brushes up against mine. “Trust me.”