by Skye Taylor
The blood seemed to have stopped moving in Philip’s veins. An icy cold sluice of horror gripped his heart. This can’t be what it looks like! It has to be a hoax.
The men in the bar continued to gape at the flickering picture of destruction while the commentator repeated the awful truth of an attack against the United States of America. Philip looked at his watch. It was morning in New York. The city would be bustling with people. Those buildings would be full of people. Thousands of them.
As disbelief gave way to rage, a mass exodus for the doors began. Even the men waiting for their turn on the phone strode toward the door, heads thrust forward, ready to meet the attack however they could.
Philip laid two bills beside his forgotten steak and followed them.
Chapter 25
April 2015
Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
THE DAZED EXPRESSION still lingered on Elena’s face, but her body straightened, and she took her hand away from his chest. Philip almost caught it and held it in place, but instead, he let her go.
“What happened?” he repeated.
“You stopped writing. You never called. I—I thought you didn’t care.” She wrapped her arms about her knees again and began to rock. “I thought I was just a . . .” She hesitated. “I thought I was just a summer affair.”
Shock hit Philip like a physical blow. “You were never that.”
“Then you tell me what happened.” Her mouth pressed together into a hard line as if she were trying hard not to respond with angry words.
“9/11 happened. I was waiting to call you, but I never got a chance.”
“You could have emailed me.”
Philip shook his head. “We were ordered to return to the Peleliu without delay, and she set sail as soon as everyone was accounted for. We weren’t allowed to use email. Or make calls.”
“For three months?” Elena’s brown eyes glittered with unshed tears.
“For more than three months. We were headed to Pakistan, but when we weighed anchor, I didn’t even know that. At one point, we stopped to offer humanitarian aid, but we still didn’t get to call home. Then we ended up in Afghanistan.”
Suddenly, it all made sense. The military had contacted the families to assure them their sailors and Marines were okay, but Elena would have had no way of finding out unless she just happened to talk to his parents, or his brothers. And if she’d been thinking he wasn’t serious about her, she would never have called them.
The truth of their lost summer raged through his reeling brain. “Is that why you stopped emailing me?”
“I didn’t stop emailing you for months. You never answered.” Her words were clipped and angry, but didn’t mask the hurt reflected in her eyes.
“I didn’t get your emails. When I finally got to a computer, there were hundreds in my inbox, but none from Juliegirl.” He’d been in a hurry because he’d only had a few minutes, but he’d rifled through them as fast as he could. There hadn’t been any from her.
Elena’s eyes grew wide and she gulped back a sob. “I couldn’t use that account any more. The server closed. I had to use my college email.”
“No Juliegirl?” Philip’s head began to throb. He’d tossed dozens of emails from a dot edu account, thinking they were just college solicitations.
She shook her head again. “You could have called me. You knew my phone number.”
But he’d been too proud to call. His heart had been crushed, but so had his confidence. It had felt like Holly all over again. And he’d been thankful he hadn’t gotten as far as marriage and another blindly trusting mistake.
“And you didn’t come home for Christmas either.”
The lump in his throat threatened to choke him. “There didn’t seem to be any point. My country needed me in Afghanistan. I thought you didn’t need me at all.”
She glared at him through brimming eyes. “But I did need you. Only you weren’t there. What was I supposed to do?”
“You needed me?”
“I—I wanted you, but you were gone. I thought for good.”
“So you married Eli?”
She brushed her forearm over her eyes, dashing away the tears, but the pain remained. “I didn’t plan to marry Eli. Not then. Not until a long time later. He—he was there, and he wore me down.”
She didn’t plan to marry Eli, but he wore her down? What kind of reason is that? A person doesn’t marry someone just because they want you to. Not if you didn’t love them. Not unless—
Philip glanced toward the ocean where Julie was riding the crest of a wave.
Unless she was pregnant.
Eli had gotten Elena pregnant, and he’d stood by her in spite of her feelings for another man. He’d married her and done his best to provide a home and support. All the resentment Philip had felt for Eli in the years since began to dissolve.
He would probably never understand how Elena could have been seduced into sleeping with another man so soon after the mind-blowing week she’d shared with him in Tide’s Way, or why she’d been so careless, but maybe he didn’t have to. She’d paid for her mistakes. And was still paying for them.
He reached over and wrapped his arm about her shoulders, pulling her resisting body closer to his. Then he laid his cheek on the crown of her bent head. The light teasing scent he remembered far too well filled his nostrils, and his body stirred in spite of the emotional turmoil in his soul.
She turned to Eli because she didn’t have a choice. Because I never told her I loved her. “I am so, so sorry.” Sorry! What a pathetic word for the heartache he’d carried all these years. Or the heartache he’d caused her.
He still wanted her. More than he’d ever wanted any woman. Although plenty of women had desired him and hadn’t made a secret of it. But whenever things had begun to feel too serious, he’d ended it. Now he knew why.
He tightened his embrace. “Is it too late to start over?”
Chapter 26
November 2001
University of Southern California
ELENA CRUMPLED into the overstuffed chair in the corner of her room and gave in to the racking sobs that had been threatening all day. Her heart ached even worse than it had when her father had been killed by a drunk driver.
Philip was never coming back to her. He might be coming home for Christmas, or he might not, but he was never coming back to her. He hadn’t answered a single email in over two months. Nothing since that last email before his ship got to Darwin.
Up to now, she just kept telling herself he was caught up in the response to the Twin Towers nightmare, but even if he was involved, he should have contacted her before now. He’d promised to call her from Darwin. But he hadn’t.
One of the girls sharing her apartment had conjectured that Philip had gone ashore on leave and found a woman to spend his time with, but Elena hadn’t wanted to believe it. She’d chosen to think that his ship had never even gotten to Darwin. After the terrorist attack that destroyed the World Trade Center and had the whole country in shock, maybe things got a little crazy for the military as well. But that was more than two months ago. Surely by now he would have answered her emails if he thought about her at all.
Her messages had begun to sound frantic in spite of her efforts to stay calm. He had to know how desperate she was to hear from him. He had to care.
But apparently he didn’t.
Her throat ached and her head throbbed. The sobs turned to hiccoughs but the tears wouldn’t stop. What was she going to do now?
“Elena?” An urgent rapping on her door accompanied the voice calling her name.
“Go away.”
Eli Tischler was the last person she wanted to talk to right now.
The door opened a few inches. “Are you decent?”
“What
part of go away didn’t you get?” Elena grabbed the tail of her shirt and wiped her face. Not that it would help much since her eyes had to be swollen and red by now.
Eli came into the room, and shut the door. “What’s wrong? Has something happened at home?” He crossed the room and knelt on the floor in front of her. “Is your family okay?”
“My family is fine.”
Eli reached for the bookshelf, grabbed the tissue box and handed it to her. “Want to talk about it? Whatever it is?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Just because we aren’t sleeping together any more doesn’t mean we aren’t still friends. You look like you did the day the planes flew into the Twin Towers. Worse.”
Elena bit her lip and stared up at the ceiling, concentrating on not letting any more tears fall.
Eli took her hands in his and began rubbing them. “Your hands are like ice. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Elena shook her head.
“Do you want me to go find Marci?”
“Marci is out—with John.” Another sob suddenly rolled up and nearly strangled Elena. She buried her face in her hands and tried to stanch the tears. Eli kept patting her shoulder, but when she didn’t stop, he finally stood. Thank God, he was leaving. She could cry in peace.
But instead of leaving, he scooped her up in his arms and took her place in the chair with her in his lap. He wrapped his arms about her and just rocked. He kept rocking until the last of her sobs subsided, more because she was too tired to keep on weeping rather than having found any kind of peace. She dried her eyes on his T-shirt and tried to sit up, but he pulled her back into his embrace.
“Whatever it is, if there’s anything I can do to help, you know you just have to ask.” He forked his fingers into her hair and pushed it off her face. “We had something special going once, and I still care about you. I’d do anything to help.”
“There’s nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do.” She gulped back another sob that threatened to erupt. “And this isn’t your problem.”
With that, she got off his lap and crossed to the window. She stared down into the dark street and saw two lovers embracing at the foot of the stairs. Just a couple of months ago, that could have been her and Philip. But Philip was gone. And he didn’t care.
“It might not be my problem, but I’m a good listener.” Eli had come to stand close behind her, but he didn’t touch her.
“I’m pregnant.”
Eli moved around to face her, but he didn’t respond right away. He studied her with a frown on his face. She hung her head.
“Does the father know?” Eli’s question was gentle rather than condemning.
She shook her head.
“Aren’t you going to tell him?”
“He’s—he’s not part of my life any more. And a baby would not fit into the life he does have.” The life of an active duty, career Marine. Philip had suggested he didn’t have to volunteer for overseas duty, and even mentioned getting stationed at Pendleton, but after 9/11, he must have changed his mind. He was probably in the thick of things and he’d forgotten all about her and their summer romance.
“He has a right to know,” Eli argued, his voice still quietly nonjudgmental.
“I tried. He ignored every email I sent him.”
“I see.” Eli did touch her then, his hands curling gently around the curve of her shoulders. “Are you going to have the baby?”
“Of course.”
“There’s no of course about it. It can’t be too late to get an abortion.”
No way could she even consider the idea of disposing of Philip’s child, a child conceived with such passion and, at least on her part, love.
“There’s no way I would consider one.”
Eli gripped her shoulders tighter. “Then marry me. Let me take care of you and your baby. I promise I would be good to both of you. I love you, and I’d love your baby even if it’s not mine.”
Elena shook her head. “But I don’t love you. Not the way you deserve to be loved. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Why don’t you let me decide if it’s fair to me or not. If there’s no way this man, whoever the bastard is, is going to take responsibility, then who else are you going to turn to? Your brother? He’s already got two kids of his own and your mother to worry about.”
“I can take care of myself. And my baby.” Elena straightened her shoulders, but didn’t pull them from Eli’s grasp. She had to take care of herself and her baby since Philip wasn’t around to accept his share of the consequences. All the care they’d taken to make sure they always used a condom, and she’d gotten pregnant in spite of them.
She met Eli’s intent gaze. “Thank you for your offer. It’s more generous than I deserve.”
“Don’t decide right away.” Eli brushed his knuckles lightly over her cheek. “The offer stands if you change your mind. I’ll always be your friend, and I’d like to be more. If there’s anything you need, I’m here for you.”
Overwhelmed by his compassion and his totally selfless proposal, Elena fell back into his embrace.
Chapter 27
April 2015
Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
A WEEK AFTER THE day at the beach, with the late afternoon sun dancing across the floor of the Physical Therapy room, Elena stood uncomfortably close within the wedge of Philip’s spread thighs, massaging his right shoulder after pushing him to new limits. Both in and out of the physical therapy department he’d pushed himself even harder, and it was beginning to look as if she might be discharging him for full return to duty sooner than expected. He grunted as her fingers found another tight knot of abused muscles.
The temptation to lean into him and feel his arms close around her grew stronger and her willpower weaker every time he came to her. It had been an anxious week of reflection and doubt. His question about starting over haunted her with possibilities. Everything Meg had said about bending rules balanced against the ethics of her profession. Her position here at Lejeune. All the years spent building her reputation. Even the successful completion of Philip’s therapy weighed against giving in to desire.
Then there was the reality of his going back into harm’s way and leaving her behind again. What if she jeopardized everything for love and lost him anyway?
He hadn’t asked the question again during either of the two therapy sessions since their day at the beach, but she’d caught him gazing at her with uncertainty in his eyes more than once. It was as if he was waiting for her to make the next move, and he was either being patient or cautious.
What if there was a chance for them to salvage their lost relationship?
The shattering kiss they’d shared on the beach before the revelations had begun to come out proved she still loved him in spite of everything that had come between them and forced them apart. Judging by the look in his eyes, his heart was in it too. But she hadn’t told him everything.
Yet.
He’d given her the opening, but she hadn’t taken it. If there were ever going to be a best time, that day on the beach would have been it. But before she could figure out where to begin, Julie had come dashing up to their blanket, dripping and excited, and the moment was gone.
If there was a possibility for them in the future, even if it was worth risking her reputation and position, there could be no more secrets. She would have to trust him with the truth. She just had to find the courage before it was too late.
Philip interrupted her tormented reasoning. “Do you remember that kid who painted the murals in the parish hall at Saint Theresa’s?”
She frowned. It had been a while since she’d been to the church they’d grown up in. But then she remembered. “Dave I think his name was. He was a couple of years behind me in school, and I remember the murals. They loo
ked like totally professional work even though he was just a kid when he did them. What about him?”
“My mother sent me an invitation to the opening of his new exhibit at the Cameron Museum in Wilmington. I thought you and Julie might like to drive down with me on Sunday and check it out. We could do dinner on the river afterward.” His words were rushed, as if he feared she’d cut him off before he got them said.
“Julie won’t be here.” And without her along as a chaperone, would it seem too much like a date? Something she knew she shouldn’t accept?
“Oh?” He looked at her with speculation in his eyes.
“She’s going out to San Diego to spend the week with Eli.” The promised week with the man she called Dad.
“Even better. It’ll be just the two of us.” He hopped off the table and reached for his uniform blouse. “What time should I pick you up?”
DAVE CALLOWAY at fifteen had been good, but the man at thirty was incredible.
As Elena and Philip strolled through the gallery, she was almost moved to tears by the uncanny talent of the man. Although Calloway’s youthful artwork at St Theresa’s had been seascapes, his current exhibit was of people. Some posed, but most caught in candid moments of reflection or busy with everyday life.
“I love this one,” Elena said as they stopped in front of a medium-sized canvas depicting children frolicking in the surf.
“That’s our beach,” Philip murmured, reaching for her hand. He laced his fingers through hers, and a lightning current of excitement surged through her. She felt giddy and nineteen again.
“How do you know it’s our beach? It’s just the ocean and kids playing in the sand. It could be anywhere.”
“Maybe I just wanted to think it’s our beach,” he agreed, squeezing her hand. “But Calloway does come from Tide’s Way, so there’s an even chance it is.”
Philip drew her along until they stood in front of another beach scene, this one at night with moonlight glistening on the gentle chop and the silhouettes of two lovers sitting side by side, their arms about each other as they gazed out over the ocean.