Pieces of Broken Time

by Lorenz Font

  Katrina lifted her hair to give him access.

  “It is made of lappa beads made out of brass, recycled glass and clay. It’s what they call Salone style. I thought you might like it.” He clasped the lock.

  Katrina turned and threw her arms around him, settling her mouth firmly on his.

  “Thank you,” she murmured after their lips parted. She straddled his hips when he coaxed her to sit on his lap.

  Their lips reunited for another long and passionate kiss. Moments later, their heated desire found its way to the bedroom.

  The night passed as they continued exploring the depths of their physical hunger. Driven by lust and a demanding need to forget the face and name that haunted him, Blake made love with Katrina over and over until sunrise peeked over the horizon. In spite of the satisfaction his body had enjoyed, his heart was empty and his life was far from perfect.

  Chapter 18

  Blake woke up from his short nap feeling shittier than ever. Glancing around, he remembered swinging by the rehab center to hide. Sam had offered the room, and he must’ve dozed off.

  Sam was finishing with another patient when Blake joined him in the common room.

  Blake kept his distance until the teenager in a wheelchair was out of earshot. “Thanks for letting me crash here,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Anytime, my man.” Sam checked his watch and rubbed his belly. “Wanna grab a burger and a beer?”

  Blake shook his head, remembering Jennifer alone in the house. “Not this time. I have some groveling to do.” He headed to the exit, and Sam’s chuckle followed him out the door.

  He concocted a plan while making his way to his vehicle. His brusque behavior earlier called for damage control. He leaned on the door and dialed Jennifer’s number, hoping she wasn’t too upset to pick up.

  The phone kept ringing. He was about to hang up when she answered.

  “Hello?” Her voice sounded tentative.

  Blake took a deep breath and hoped for the best. “I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes. Dress comfortably.” He made it sound like he wasn’t expecting her to decline. Sometimes he wondered if it was even possible to revert to the old Blake, the man who had embraced what life had to offer because he had enough love to give.

  When he heard a soft click, he knew his work was cut out for him.

  He’d said hurtful things out of fear and a need to hide what he felt, but he wasn’t going to let her snub deter him.

  He eased the Jeep out of the almost deserted parking lot and turned left onto Avenue J. If begging for forgiveness was in order, a bouquet of flowers was a necessary tool to aid the effort. He turned into the flower shop’s parking lot with every intention of finding the perfect arrangement.

  “What can I get for you?” the woman behind the counter asked.

  Blake hesitated, feeling out of his element. “I need a flower arrangement.”

  “Great. I can help you with that. Do you have anything in mind?”

  When he shook his head, the lady led him to the cooler section and showed him several ready-made bouquets.

  He studied each one but nothing caught his eye. “I want something much more special.”

  “What is the occasion?”

  “I’ve been an ass.” Blake rubbed his forehead, unable to believe that he just let a stranger in on his woes.

  The woman laughed. “Okay … let’s see. White flowers connote forgiveness.”

  “Uh-huh.” He gave her a blank stare.

  “Do you trust me to come up with something beautiful for you?”

  Trust?

  Beautiful?

  Yep, that’s Jennifer.

  “Yes,” he said.

  While the lady started opening the refrigerated section and pulled flowers from buckets, he wandered around.

  He felt a little silly, but it was too late now.

  Women like flowers, right?

  Or jewelry.

  His teeth clenched as he recalled the mistake he’d made the last time he’d bought jewelry for a woman.

  In less than twenty minutes, the florist called out and presented him with an array of elegant and fragrant flowers.

  All Blake could do was grin.

  Jennifer’s gonna love them.

  “What are the flowers?”

  “Roses, oriental lilies, and some alstroemeria.”

  After he paid for the arrangement, he felt light on his feet as he banked on Jennifer’s forgiveness being given without a hitch.

  The rest of the drive home was spent in self-reflection.

  When he reached his place, Drew began barking when he spotted him walking up the path.

  So much for surprising Jennifer.

  “Hey, boy, where’s the beautiful lady?” he whispered, bending down to run his hand over Drew’s shiny coat.

  “She’s right here.”

  Jennifer was seated on the sofa, looking glorious, and dressed in a floral sundress that showed more skin than he needed to see.

  His gaze was immediately drawn to her low-cut neckline that revealed her rounded cleavage.

  Damn it, Connor. Don’t start.

  Feeling the heat rising to his face, he looked up to catch Jennifer narrowing her eyes. It was another tongue-tied moment while Blake searched for something intelligible to say. Nothing came to him, and in an effort to avoid looking like an idiot, he took a step forward and offered the flowers to her.

  Her face softened, and a little smile broke the ice. “Thank you.” She sniffed the flowers. “They’re lovely. What’s the occasion?”

  “It is step one of my attempt to beg for forgiveness.” He hoped that his lighthearted tone would earn him another smile.

  She smiled. “What is step two?”

  He refrained from pumping his fist. “Dinner.”

  “I’m all dressed and ready to go, but I have one condition.”

  “Let’s hear it.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  Jennifer sighed. “I don’t want you to ever be jealous on my behalf.” She tilted her head as if egging him to refute her.

  “Agreed.”

  “And—”

  “You said one.”

  She glared at him. “Do you want to go to dinner or not?”

  He nodded and pressed his lips together.

  “I won’t pretend that the things you said this morning didn’t hurt me.”

  “I know and I feel bad for saying it. You see, when things get really tight, I say anything that comes to mind. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “I want you to stop pushing me away.”

  Unbelievable! Don’t ask for much, do ya?

  He bobbed his head. “Five minutes?” he asked.

  “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” She looked away, but not before he saw the twinkle in her eyes.

  Muttering under his breath, he hurried to wash his face and change his clothes.

  Whoa! Am I going on a real honest-to-goodness date?

  He couldn’t help but smile at his reflection, loving the idea of a night out with Jennifer. He fixed his eye patch and patted his growing hair. The beanie seemed out of place with his black shirt. He tugged it off and checked his inner disgust meter.

  His blond hair had grown relatively long, and the skin on his left cheek was turning pink.

  Not too bad if the restaurant lights are dim.

  He pushed the strands behind his ears and picked up his keys from the bureau.

  “Let me feed Drew and let him out before we go,” he said as he passed by the living room and whistled.

  “I fed him earlier,” Jennifer answered from the kitchen.

  “What are you doing up?” His voice turned harsh.

  Jennifer turned from the sink and held up her hand in a warning gesture. “I’m using the crutches so there is no undue pressure on the foot. Besides, I wanted my flowers in a vase.”

  “I don’t have a vase.”

  “I know. I improvised.” She held up a glass pitcher fille
d with the blooms and laughed.

  He grinned, unable to resist her charm. “Ready?” He preceded her down the hall and opened the front door for her in an attempt to be a perfect gentleman.

  Lancaster offered few choices for fine dining so he’d decided to drive to the neighboring town of Palmdale. The town boasted restaurants that were a step above fast food places or hole-in-the-wall eateries.

  After driving for a few miles, he exited the freeway and located the popular restaurant row frequented by locals.

  “What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

  “Anything is fine with me.”

  “Italian?”

  “Sure.”

  Being a weeknight, the place wasn’t as packed as he imagined it was on any given weekend. They were shown a cozy booth with ambient lighting and plenty of privacy. Just the way he wanted. Once Jennifer was seated, he opted for the space next to her.

  “This place is beautiful. Have you been here before?” she asked, glancing around appreciatively.

  He shook his head. “This is my first time.” The place was nice and appealing, but nothing compared to the woman next to him. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  She shook her head. “I’m still taking pain pills. I don’t think it’s good to mix them.” She turned to look at him.

  “True. I guess we’ll be toasting with water tonight.” He raked his fingers through his hair, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

  Jennifer continued to watch him. “You know, I like you without a beanie. I can see your face better.”

  He grimaced. “I have to get out of the hot thing from time to time.” He looked away, not sure if he wanted the attention.

  Jennifer tugged at his arm until he was looking directly at her. “Your eyes have always been so expressive and full of depth. It’s like staring at an abstract painting.”

  He focused on her face and breathed deep. “I have one left, so that depth is kinda screwed right now. I can tell you this, though: you look spectacular tonight.” His cheeks ached as Jennifer blushed and his grin stretched even wider across his face.

  Their little exchange was halted when the waiter appeared, smiling and pad in hand, for their drink and appetizer orders.

  “As I was saying, you’re exquisite, but I’m sure you know that already.” He decided to pour it thick, and he took her hand and lifted it to his lips for a kiss.

  Jennifer took on a deep cherry hue while she squirmed under his touch.

  Although she let him keep holding her hand, he sensed that, just like him, she wanted to shift the attention away from herself.

  “Tell me, what do you intend to do after your treatment?”

  He scowled out of habit but remembered that he was on best behavior watch. He leaned against the leather cushion and sighed.

  Might as well come clean.

  “I’ve never thought about it.”

  “Why?”

  He glanced sideways at her, tilting his head slightly. “Do you have a questionnaire with you?”

  She giggled. “Actually, I had them memorized, and you didn’t answer my question.”

  He turned her palm up and trailed his fingers across the lines while he searched for the right things to say. “Well, before I enlisted, I had a degree in music. I always dreamt of writing music, and playing in front of a crowd.” He started strumming an imaginary chord inside her hand.

  “You still have that degree, right?”

  He narrowed his eyes and nodded.

  “I don’t see why anything should stop you from doing what you wanted.”

  Blake had to hand it to her. Jennifer was a woman who said things as she saw them. Just like Trent had described her.

  “I don’t see how I can play around people and not make them uncomfortable.” He gestured to his face.

  “There isn’t anything there that repulses me.” She pulled her hand from his and traced her fingers along his damaged cheek. “I think the eye patch gives you a mysterious air, and it’s sexy.”

  Mysterious?

  Sexy?

  Okay, now that’s not awkward.

  The very thing he abhorred, she found sexy?

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” he said, pulling her hand away from his face.

  “Say that you’ll think about writing songs and playing for me.”

  Blake stared at her in disbelief.

  Was she really asking him to do the one thing he dreaded to do? And what good would it do? He’d start hoping for more, and that would lead to embarrassment and potential disappointment.

  “Am I one of the causes you’re championing? Getting a down-and-out vet into circulation again?”

  Jennifer jutted her chin in her familiar display of stubbornness, and then nodded. “Yes. You have no business hiding at home.”

  Blake felt a hint of irritation rise, but before he could lash out at her, the server arrived with their drinks, a basket of focaccia bread, and dipping oil. The server left with their entrée orders, buying Blake more time to compose himself. A good thing, since he was tired of being angry.

  If the woman would just stop hitting so close to home.

  For the next few minutes, they busied themselves with the antipasto.

  After he had taken a few bites, Blake wiped his mouth with the dinner napkin and faced her. “I’m not hiding. I just don’t see how easy it would be to rejoin the world after what I saw in the battlefield and the people I have killed. The guilt is not easy to live with.”

  This was the most he’d said to anyone about returning from active duty with a career-ending injury. It felt good to get it off his chest, but it also left him in unchartered territory of being weak and exposed.

  Jennifer watched Blake lower his gaze and close his eye.

  An unfamiliar ache shot through her heart for all that he had gone through. She saw the anguish in his face and heard the suffering in his voice. What had this man seen out there for him to come home broken and feeling like he had nothing else to offer?

  She bit her lip to keep from tearing up. She choked a sob and swallowed hard.

  Their entrees came and put further discussion on hold.

  She had lost her appetite but pretended to eat by shoving the pasta around her plate. Throwing desperate glances at Blake, she kept tabs on his progress. After eating half, he had started doing the same thing with his chicken parmigiana.

  Blake summoned the waiter for a refill of his water, took a deep breath, and picked up her hand after the long and tense silence. “It’s terrifying to discover that after eight years in the service the rest of the world has moved on without me, without us. I don’t know how to act around people anymore. I feel alienated, and that is not just others’ doing but my own, too. It’s difficult to forget the faces; the lives I took, the ones taken from me. Nothing feels the same. I don’t understand it when people tell me I’m lucky to be alive. I only have one eye. When I’m in an unfamiliar place, I bump into things. I have a limp that might not ever go away, and I … it’s all so messed up.”

  Jennifer absorbed his emotions as if they were her own and found a newfound respect and compassion for the man. Just like Trent, Blake had seen enough atrocities in the field to give him a lifetime of nightmares and sleepless nights, but to let him dwell on what he had lost and his limitations was a great disservice.

  She lifted his chin with her free hand until he was looking at her. “Have you talked to someone about your feelings?”

  “Talk to a shrink?”

  She nodded. Certainly the stigma of speaking to a specialist could scare anyone back into his cave.

  His jaw pulsed, and she felt his tension at her fingertips. “I don’t need anyone to tell me that I’m not the only one who feels this way.”

  “Blake, listen to me. Refusing to talk is the one thing keeping you stuck. You have so much to live for. I’m not an expert, and I won’t tell you how to live your life. I just want to see you try to be happy.”

  “Why?” His
voice was low and husky.

  No point lying.

  She held his gaze, unwavering. “Because I care for you.”

  “Since when?”

  She sighed and summoned the strength to go on. “The moment we first …”

  “Aren’t you in the least bit disgusted by my appearance?”

  Shaking her head, Jennifer closed her eyes for a brief moment. When she reopened them, they were filled with tears. “And I’ve never once felt pity. You have enough of it for yourself.”

  “What about Trent?”

  She took a deep breath, deciding that, once and for all, Blake had to know her true feelings. “I love him. I still do, but not in the same way he did me. He was my protector and best friend, and I’m grateful for our friendship. When he proposed, I didn’t have the heart to say no. I agreed to marry him for the wrong reason. I felt guilty. I was planning to tell him the truth the next time he returned, but I never got the chance.”

  Blake inhaled a sharp breath, twined their fingers, and lifted them to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand. “I have nothing to offer anyone. Damaged goods don’t do well in relationships these days.”

  “I’m not asking you for anything but to give yourself a chance to live again, and to quit hiding behind your injuries. Allow me to help you.”

  “What can you possibly do for me?”

  A breath of hope sluiced through her veins. “I can start by going with you to your appointment tomorrow.”

  He stared at her. “What appointment?”

  “With the eye specialist.”

  Blake closed his good eye and shook his head. “I don’t know about that.”

  “It’s your call. I’m just here as a cheering squad.”

  He laughed a brittle sound that cracked with emotion. “What would this cheering cost me?”

  “Nothing, except your word that you won’t shut me out. No more Mr. Grumpy.”

  He opened his eye and focused on her, offering a small smile. “Promises, promises. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Not bad at all.

  In truth, his word was good enough for her. With Blake, taking one step forward meant being prepared to take two steps back. It would be challenging and also disconcerting, but she believed he was worth it.

  Chapter 19