by Donna Alward
“Of course you matter to me!”
“Because of Emma.”
“Not only because of Emma!”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. Why don’t you just admit what you want, Shannyn.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m talking about this.”
He took three giant strides, swept her up and pressed his lips to hers.
And oh, he felt good. Tasted like tart lemon and sweet sugar blended with a flavor that was simply Jonas. Her arms were pinned against her sides as he crushed her close, kissing her and making every nerve ending in her body thrum with hope.
Hope.
Hope would be the worst mistake she could make. “Stop.” She pulled her way out of his arms, walking backwards until she was blocked by the stove. “Stop this. This doesn’t change anything.”
His lips curved craftily. “Oh, I think it does. I know how you felt just now.” His voice was silky, seductive. “How you tasted.”
A shiver teased over her body. But she knew now that it was his way of diverting the topic. And she had to press on. It was too important.
“No, Jonas. Not like this. We have problems to work out. I know that. But today is not the time. Today is about something bigger.”
The sexy smile disappeared as quickly as he’d put it on.
“Jonas, no one can go through what you did without having some sort of lingering effect.” She put the topic back on track. “You need to put it behind you. You do.”
“I just want to forget about it. I didn’t misread what happened just now. You can help me forget.” His eyes communicated tacit suggestions on how that might be accomplished.
Shannyn wanted to cry. If he only knew how desperately she wanted to make love. Knowing the reality of their situation had nothing to do with longings, and she had those aplenty. She remembered how it had been between them. Had imagined how it could be again, to her growing consternation.
If only healing were that simple. But damage had been done and she didn’t see how it could be fixed. And to use it as a method of running away…she wasn’t so naive. She knew it would only lead to more hurt. What she secretly wanted…the three of them together…that would never happen.
“You’ll never forget, Jonas, and you know that. You need to find a way to make peace with it, not make it disappear.” If only she could take her own advice.
She knew when she’d gotten through because he exhaled and put a hand over his face.
She went to him. For right now the rest didn’t matter. She laid her fingers on his shoulder and softly put her other hand over his and drew it down so his face was uncovered once more. “Please let me help you. Don’t you know you’re safe with me?”
The shoulder beneath her hand trembled and she struggled to hold back tears, longing for him to trust her this much. She let her fingers soothe their way down his arm, feeling the firm muscle beneath the warm skin.
“I care about what happens to you, Jonas. Not for Emma. Not for myself. For you.” She halted, afraid of the next words but saying them anyway. “Can’t you see you’re still in my heart?”
His breath caught. She felt him hold it in. She was so close to getting the rest of the way through. “If you can’t do it yourself, then let me be the strong one. You’ve fought for so long. Please, let me fight for you this one time. All you have to do is hold on.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted quietly.
“Just trust in me for once. Let go and start at square one and we’ll do it together, I promise.”
His arms snaked around her, pulling her close, cinching her tightly against him. She wrapped her arms around his ribs and held on, feeling their strength coming together. Accepting that together they were so much stronger than they were individually.
The sun had moved and was shining through the side window of the kitchen when Jonas stepped back and out of her arms.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, not looking at her.
“No,” she answered strongly. “No more sorry. You needed to get it out.”
“I wanted to spare you the ugly parts. I didn’t want you to know.”
Shannyn rested her hand on his cheek and peered into his face. “But I wanted to share them with you. I’m glad you told me. It explains so much. It’s going to get better now, you’ll see.”
He put his hand over top of hers and she smiled up at him. “I can’t promise to understand all of it. I wasn’t there. But I’ll do my best. It’s going to get better,” she repeated. “That I can promise.”
He sighed, pursing his lips and looking away. “It already it is better. I’m the one that’s alive. He isn’t.”
“And punishing yourself won’t bring him back.” She put her right hand on his other cheek, forcing him to look into her eyes. “I still think you need to talk to a professional. Someone who knows how to deal in this particular area of trauma.”
“I don’t need a shrink to tell me what I need, Shan. Spouting a bunch of gobbledygook about touchy feely.”
“Do you want to live like this for the rest of your life, then?”
He pulled away from her hands. “You know what? I can’t think of that now. It’s been such a rollercoaster day. Right now I’m just tired.”
Shannyn suppressed a sigh. One conversation was not going to fix this and make everything all right for him. It would take time. He needed time. She knew that sharing as much as he had had to have been exhausting. She merely nodded.
“Of course you are.”
“I should talk to Emma, though. I don’t want her last memory of today being that of me flipping out.” He sighed. “You and me…we’ve talked about it. You understand. But Emma doesn’t.”
Shannyn was glad. Not only for Emma—it was good that he was considering their daughter’s feelings—but for herself. It would be a way to keep him close a little longer today. To perhaps convince him to get the help he needed.
“Why don’t you lie down in the living room and rest? I’ll go get Emma from Patty’s in a bit, and we’ll have a quiet dinner together. The three of us.” She put her hands in the pockets of her shorts and tried to sound normal.
“That sounds good. More than good.” He attempted a small smile and nearly succeeded.
“It’s the least I can do. And I agree. I think it’s important for Emma to see you again, to see that you’re okay.” She hesitated. “Jonas…you promise you won’t leave?” She didn’t quite trust him. She could very well go to pick up Emma and come home to an empty house.
“Are you kidding? If I tried to pull that, you’d be at my door in ten minutes.”
Shannyn laughed. “Yes, I would. Besides, I think we could both use a regular evening after the events of the day.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll lie down for a bit and then we’ll have dinner and I’ll make it up to Emma for ruining her afternoon.”
When Shannyn came back with Emma, Jonas was asleep on the couch, his body so long that his feet hung over the curved arm at the end. One arm was bent and under his head, the opposite hand resting on the cushions in front of his abdomen.
When he slept, his troubles all seemed to vanish from his face. Like when he’d met Corporal Benner, he seemed younger. Freer.
“Daddy’s sleeping,” she whispered to Emma, holding her hand. For some reason, the word Daddy no longer seemed foreign on her tongue. It belonged. Like Jonas did.
She knelt down before Emma and squeezed her hand. “Let’s make him a special supper, okay? And we’ll all eat together and have ice cream sandwiches for dessert.”
Emma nodded enthusiastically. “Can we make hotdogs?”
Shannyn laughed. To a five-year-old, hotdogs did constitute a special meal. “Sure pumpkin. Hotdogs it is. And maybe a potato salad and your favorite veggies and dip.”
At Emma’s broad smile Shannyn put on her mock stern face. “But this is a team effort, young lady. You’ve got to pull your weight.”
“Yes ma’am,” Emma replied. She
giggled. “That’s what Daddy says.”
Shannyn pulled Emma in for a hug. Jonas, with all his problems, was already becoming a part of the family, an influence on Emma’s life. And this was only the beginning. She had no idea where things were going to lead with him. No matter how he denied it, his kisses didn’t lie, not even when he used them to protect himself from being open and vulnerable. The connection she felt didn’t lie. The fact that he trusted her with the truth, and that she was beginning to trust him more every day, brought them closer together. It complicated everything.
A sigh escaped as she released Emma and turned to the refrigerator. She didn’t want to care, didn’t want to need him. It would be so much simpler if she didn’t. If they could agree to parent Emma separately. If only she could turn her residual feelings off.
She put potatoes on to boil for salad and as she cut vegetables, Emma arranged them on a pretty plate. Together they mixed the potatoes and dressing and she let Emma sprinkle the paprika on the top. She lit the barbeque and got out the package of hotdogs, leaving Emma to carry out the condiments and plastic dishes.
Emma came back inside after a load of plates and cutlery and slid the patio door shut with far too much force than necessary. It banged loudly against the frame, the harsh slam echoing through the house.
Shannyn jumped, then jumped again as a horrific shout and crash came from the living room. Without thinking, she rushed around the corner, Emma on her heels, and the sight that greeted her froze her to the spot.
Jonas stood in the middle of the floor, his chest pumping heavily and the coffee table overturned. Picture frames and her favorite vase lay scattered on the floor.
“Jonas! My God, what happened?”
His head turned, nothing else. Shannyn took a step backward at the sight of his cold eyes. Now she knew what he’d meant when he’d said he wanted to spare her the details. There was a dark side he hadn’t wanted her to see. The Jonas before her now wasn’t the same man she’d held in her arms earlier. At Emma’s whimper, she automatically put her arm out, pulling Emma close to her side, comforting.
Jonas stared at them blankly. The dream was still so real. Vignettes and faces that made little sense, and then cut to the hospital in Germany. He’d been shouting to the doctor about Chris’s body and then suddenly he’d been screaming that it was Shannyn’s body and he’d broken his promise…
Now, slowly, slowly her face registered. As the fog cleared, he realized he was standing in Shannyn’s living room. She was staring at him with horror etched on every feature. Eyes wide, mouth open, face pale.
Behind her right hip stood Emma, wearing the same expression but with an added emotion he recognized. He’d seen it before. More than he cared to recall.
She was afraid. Not just frightened but afraid of him.
He looked away, only for his brain to register the chaos created by his outburst. The silk flowers in the vase were scattered in a tangle of red, orange, and green. The coffee table was on its side. A picture frame lay face down, but bits of broken glass showed from around the wooden perimeter. He didn’t remember jumping up. Didn’t know if he’d knocked the table over or had overturned it.
He turned back to Shannyn and Emma. This was so wrong. They both deserved so much better. But especially Emma. She didn’t understand any of this. “I’m sorry,” he tried, but the words came out choked. He cleared his throat. “Emma…”
But Emma spun around and ran from the room. Her footsteps pounded on the stairs and moments later her bedroom door slammed.
Shannyn glanced at the stairs and then back at Jonas, undecided.
“You were right, Shan. About everything.” His voice was quiet and broken in the silent aftermath of his outburst. “Go to Emma while I clean up this mess. While I get my head on straight. I need to talk to both of you.”
Shannyn quietly did what he asked. She turned and walked away from him, up the stairs to Emma. It was the right thing for her to do. Emma needed her mother now more than anything.
He squatted and picked up the picture, careful of the broken glass. It was a five-by-seven of Shannyn and Emma together. Shannyn’s arms were looped around Emma’s neck, both of them smiling. A set of blue eyes and a set of green, both with a dusting of freckles on their noses.
Carefully he righted the table and then placed the pieces of glass on it gently. He’d broken their family as surely as he’d broken the picture, just be being here.
This was why Shannyn hadn’t told him about Emma. He understood that now. And he knew that somehow he had to make it right. It was too late for him to walk away. Emma wouldn’t understand him leaving now.
Hell, he wouldn’t understand, if it came to that.
He’d made a promise to be a father, and he wasn’t going to break it. And Shannyn…she’d already put her feelings out there in order to help him and he’d thrown them back in her face. Somehow he had to find a way to fix it for all of them. No more running away.
He picked up the vase, held it gingerly in his hands before placing it precisely in the middle of the table. The nightmares weren’t stopping any more than the flashes of memory. Today had been the worst day since it had happened.
In this one he’d dreamt it was Shannyn at the end and he’d overturned a doctor’s trolley trying to find her. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that she was there because he’d started caring about her again. He could bluster and protest all he wanted, make light of it. In his heart he knew he wasn’t coping very well. With losing Chris or with losing Shannyn.
Shannyn’s footsteps came back down the stairs and he straightened, his hand full of silk flowers. He put them on the table when she came back in the room.
She’d put everything on the line for him today, even though he’d been a complete jerk, using whatever feelings she had for him against her. No matter where they ended up, at the very minimum she’d always be a part of his life because of Emma. And he’d hurt her enough over the years. He knew that. He was done with hurting her. It was time for him to attempt to make things right.
“You were right.” He began the conversation by taking responsibility for all of it. “I can’t do this by myself. I need help and I’m going to get it. I can’t do this to you and Emma.”
Shannyn crossed the floor in quick steps, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her cheek to his chest. Slowly he put his arms around her, unsure of what to do. She was crying. He could tell by the irregular jolt of her chest against his, the hint of wetness that clung to his shirt. It wasn’t what he’d expected. She should be shouting at him, kicking him out after what he’d done! Instead she was giving him acceptance and comfort.
“Why aren’t you afraid?” he whispered into her ear, overcome. “God, Shan, you should be afraid.”
Her head shook against him. “No. I’m not afraid of you, Jonas. I’m afraid for you. If you mean it about getting help, I’m relieved. It kills me to see you in so much pain.”
“But I scared you both so much.”
“We’ll be fine. And you will, too.”
She was so strong, willing to give of herself. She always had been. In some strange way, it made him proud. At that moment, he couldn’t think of a woman he’d rather have as a mother to his daughter.
Shannyn stepped back, sniffing and swiping a finger beneath her lashes.
“Don’t you see, Jonas? This is a beginning. A new one for you. Why would I be upset about that?”
Chapter 12
When the hotdogs were almost ready, Shannyn called Emma down for supper.
Jonas was waiting for Emma outside, nervously bouncing his knee as he sat at the picnic table. He’d spoken to her, but she was glad he felt he owed Emma an explanation too. His respect for her feelings, and for Emma’s, told her he meant what he said about getting help.
Shannyn was relieved to find Emma subdued, but not afraid when she came downstairs. “Your Dad wants to talk to you, honey. Do you think you can do that?”
Emma nod
ded, looking suddenly far older than her five years.
Shannyn watched the scene outside unfold with a lump in her throat. Dinner was ready, but Emma and Jonas needed this time together. Hotdogs and potato salad could wait.
Jonas talked to Emma, his face sober and honest. For a minute they remained a few feet apart. Then Emma held out her bear—the one she called Mr. Huggins—and he took it into his hands.
Emma’s arms went around her father and Shannyn pressed a hand to her mouth. Children were so forgiving. Seeing Jonas come apart at the seams had frightened her to death, not that she’d let on. Her fear had instantly become secondary once she’d realized he’d been trapped in his own personal hell.
And Emma had been crying when she’d gone upstairs to check on her. Explaining hadn’t been easy, but Shannyn had tried to keep it simple. Daddy had nightmares sometimes, and he’d had one today. He wasn’t angry at her, or at Shannyn. It wasn’t Emma’s fault.
She ran her fingertips over her lips, unable to forget the passion in his kiss.
When Jonas and Emma pulled apart, Shannyn saw Jonas turn his head to wipe his eyes privately before turning a smile on Emma. He’d made everything right. She was surprised to find tears in her own eyes and wiped her lashes. Clearing her throat, she picked up the tray holding their food and went to the patio door. When she knocked on the window, Emma bounced up to open it. Even though Jonas was awake, Shannyn noticed how gently Emma closed the door behind her.
“Supper’s ready, guys,” she called out, and had to work to paste on a smile. What a topsy-turvy day it had turned out to be.
Jonas got up to help her, taking the tray from her hands, his warm fingers brushing over hers. “Is there more?”
“Yes, there are a few more things on the counter.”
He placed the tray on the picnic table and then followed her inside. She grabbed the pitcher of lemonade but before she could go back out, he put his hand on her arm.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice low. It sent shivers up her spine. “Whatever you said to Emma upstairs, it worked. She’s strong, Shan. She gets that from you.”