Brandon gets up, then walks over, pats me on the shoulder, and walks out of his office, leaving me alone to digest what he said. How can a woman who brightens the room when she walks in have a story of pain? She seems so happy, so secure. Can I do it? Can I let her in?
I don’t sit there long, feeling like I need a good run to get my mind right. I’ve barely slept all this week, and the stress of my mind and heart battling each other have me spent, but no closer to figuring this all out than I was when I walked out of that bathroom.
The guys all see me walk out of the office, but nobody speaks a word. I know they’re all pissed, and they should be. It’s comforting to know they are there to protect her. I wish it didn’t have to be from me, though. What the fuck am I going to do?
The run along the lake in the resort does shit for my mood and my thoughts. Frustrated with myself, I head home to shower and eat. I’m lost in my own thoughts when I start up the steps to the cabin. Someone clears their throat and scares the shit out of me. I jump and go straight into defense mode, feet apart, fists up, ears on alert, eyes scanning around me.
“Calm down, son.”
“Damn, Chapman. You can’t sit in the dark like that. If I would’ve been closer, I would have knocked your ass out.”
“I know not to be that close, idiot.”
“What do you want?”
“I saw you running down by the lake. I could tell it’s been one of those weeks, and today’s run was trying to purge the shit. Came to offer some support. Us vets gotta stick together.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle. Thanks, though.” I’m trying not to lose my cool with this nosy old man, but damn if he doesn’t budge. “Really, I can deal with it.”
“You don’t think we all said that? Man, adjusting back to real life is hard after the shit we see. And it’s worse when we walk around with ghosts.”
“What?”
“I see it in you. Man, we all have war stories. You aren’t the first to be injured. You aren’t the first to run from life when you get home. Shit, man, we had guys that lived through some of the scariest situations, only to come home and lose their loved ones. I’ve seen it all, man. A vet’s life isn’t always pretty.”
“Did they get passed it?” He’s piqued my curiosity, and I need to know. Did these soldiers move on? How the fuck did they do it?
“Some did. I’m sorry to say some took their own lives, too lost in grief or nightmares, and too stubborn to seek help. It’s not weakness to talk about it, get the help you need, and move onto a new life. It’s possible.”
“Is that why you’re here? This is your new life?”
“Nah. I was a loner before I went in. I like living where it’s quiet. I like it simple. But I’ve lived, loved, and even lost. I’m still here to tell about it too. You can be as well. Don’t you think it’s time if you can’t outrun it any longer?”
“Maybe, man. Maybe.” He quietly leaves me standing there to digest his words. Talk about it, get over it, and move on. Can it really be that easy? Talk to who? Dawn? A professional? Nah, fuck talking to some stranger who will make me feel crazy. Shaking it off, I head inside to shower and figure this shit out.
My shower is longer than usual while I try to wash this funk off. Unfortunately, when the water goes cold, I'm not any closer to an answer to this mess. I know Brandon won't put up with this shit, and I'm going to have to make Dawn understand where I stand and why we can't work. I'm going to have to suck it up and call her, so that I can make sure this is all straightened out before I go back to work, or Brandon will be the least of my worries, because the guys will kill me.
Standing in my kitchen in gym shorts fixing dinner, I keep glancing at my phone on the counter like it's going to attack me. I know I need to grow a pair and just call her, but for the life of me I can't find the words. And then my phone rings, scaring the crap out of me. After moving closer to see the caller ID, I think to myself, "Speak of the devil," when I see it's Dawn. Guess it's time to man up.
"Hello."
"Hi." Her deep breath gives away her nervousness, and a wave of guilt crashes over me once again. Not only am I hurting her, but I’m making her feel like she can't be friendly with me. "Um, I hope I'm not bugging you."
"Dawn, you could never bug me."
"Yeah, sure. Whatever." She sounds upset, and when she clears her throat I feel even worse knowing I did this to her. "Can we, ah . . . talk?"
This shit needs to be handled in person, and I need to be able to give her some details so she knows it has nothing at all to do with her. "Yeah. Want me to come to you, or would you like to come here? I think we should talk in person."
"Why don't I come to you, so when you're done with me, I can be the one to walk away for a change. I'm a little tired of watching people walk away."
Fuck. I'm an asshole. "Uh, I'm sorry to make you feel that way, Dawn. But yes, you can come here. You can walk away from me this time. You'll want to, anyway. I won't make you feel bad about it either. I deserve it. I'll text you the address so you can GPS It."
"Okay. See ya soon." She doesn't wait for me to respond, she just hangs up.
I haven't had a touchy-feely talk since the beginning of my relationship with Amelia, back when life was truly a breeze. The worst fear I had then was being laughed at by a friend. I don't like this complicated life. There is so much riding on this conversation, but that doesn't make it any easier to have.
I'm startled when I hear the knock at the door, despite the fact that I’m expecting it. I just hoped she'd take her time getting here, prolonging story time a bit. But my life proves once again to not be the lucky kind. I guess it's now or never.
"Hi." Dawn's shaky voice greets me as I open the door, giving me the reminder that she's just as nervous about this talk as I am.
"Come in." I open the door and move out of her way, then watch as her normally confident self is gone, and left is this small woman, shoulders turned in and slumped, who can barely make eye contact. It hits me hard, straight in my heart, to see her so broken. This is not the Dawn I know, the one that has been tempting me for all this time, and it's my fault she's this way. This is the wake-up call I need to know it’s time to fix this. Hopefully, when I'm done telling her my story, she'll feel better about why we can't be together and we’ll be able to be friends. Either that, or I’ll be forced to find a new place to settle.
As she walks past me, I close the door and grab a couple of waters from the kitchen, then I head into the living room with her. Before I sit, I offer her the water and make sure the tissue box is still on the table in case I cause her any grief.
“Jason, can I start? I really want you to hear what I have to say before you give me the final brush off.” Her voice is soft and small. Every ounce of bravado this woman has shown is gone, and it’s heartbreaking.
I nod my response, but have to admit I’m a little nervous to hear what she has to say. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear how awful she thinks I am, and yet I know I deserve to.
“Please try not to interrupt, this isn’t easy for me.”
Again I just nod.
“After I graduated high school, I was angry at the world. I appreciated Brandon, but was so angry at just how unfair life had been. I mean I had no dad, my mom was stolen from me too soon, then my aunt, and after working my ass off to get good grades, I couldn’t even go to college because there wasn’t anyone to help me get things done. Brandon didn’t know what to do, and the counselors at school figured I’d just be knocked up and miserable in a few years anyway, so they didn’t help either. Brandon got me a job at the diner, and I was so angry that that was to be my destiny. Then he showed up in town, six feet of muscled perfection. His tan skin, light brown hair, green eyes, and killer body were everything small town girls like me dreamed of. He looked like he walked straight out of a magazine—perfect from head to toe. And when he came into the diner, it was like all the air was sucked out of the room. Our eyes met, and I was a goner.”
“Brandon came into the diner one afternoon when Michael was in there talking to me. I could see that Brandon hated him. And when I got home that evening, he made no secret of the fact that he wanted me to stay away from Michael. I was so angry at the world that I took this as my opportunity to do what I wanted. I mean, I was a grown ass woman. I could make my own decisions, right?” She fidgets a little on the other side of the couch. I can’t blame her, I can feel the story going to a place I’m not going to like. Otherwise, why would she have a story to tell?
She stops moving and says, “Michael overwhelmed every last nerve I had, and that made me incapable of telling him no. After almost a month of constant attention from him, I let him take me to dinner. We shared my first drink ever, which turned into my first hangover. It was only a few more nights before he took me to a hotel one night to have time alone. At first it was just a movie and dinner, then he opened a beer and offered me one. I don’t know how much I had to drink, but that night he took the all the important firsts. I don’t remember a thing about it. But since I’d been drinking, I couldn’t be angry at him. And although I was disappointed I would never remember it, I knew I’d have given him that moment anyway. I thought he loved me. I was clearly naive.”
Sensing she needs comforting, I scoot toward her so our knees touch. She’s close enough, so I reach out and squeeze her leg for support, letting her know I’m with her and okay with her taking her time to finish. All the while, my insides are churning with anger. What kind of man takes a woman for their first time when she’s clearly too drunk to make the decision. How could he not know how innocent she was? I could sense deep inside this whole time she had a pure heart. That’s why I don’t want to taint her with any part of me.
She places her hand on mine, gives it a little squeeze of thanks, and continues. “After that night, he got distant, changed up his entire schedule. I was so lost. He was too busy to go out, barely came into the diner, and took days to respond to my text messages.” A tear escapes, and I quickly wipe it away with my finger. The tight smile she offers as thanks tells me this story is going to get much worse before it gets better, and my gut clenches in anticipation.
“Then suddenly after two weeks, he comes around again, and it’s as if the missing two weeks had never happened. He took me out, called me when he wasn’t with me, and lavished me with attention once again. This time it lasted about three weeks before he became distant again. But again, he came back. He was only gone a week this time. At this point, the only time we’d had sex was the night I was drunk, and I started to wonder what was wrong with me. He’d kiss me and we’d make out, but he always stopped things before they got too far. I was scared to push the issue, thinking I must’ve been horrible or something, and I didn’t want to hear it from him.”
She pauses, still holding my hand tightly.
“Do you need a break? We could take a walk down by the lake?” I ask, wondering how bad this is going to get.
“No, I’m okay. I need you to hear this. I need you to see that I’ve been through a lot too, and I’m still willing to give us a shot.”
“Dawn, you have no idea what you’re asking for.”
“Just keep listening. I think you need to know that lots of people around you who seem to have it all together are still suffering silently, or have suffered as much as you.”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay, so after Michael had been back for a couple of weeks, I started getting sick. It started with just nausea at first, but after a few mornings, as soon as the toothbrush touched the inside of my mouth, I’d be running for the toilet. I was miserable at the diner, and the smell of bacon did exactly what the toothbrush did. Finally, after three days of running to the bathroom at the first smell of bacon, Krista, the girl I worked with at that time, asked me when my last period was. That’s when I knew . . . I was pregnant. After one night that I don’t even remember, I was gonna be a mom. The counselors at school were right.”
The shock I felt must’ve shown on my face, because she paused and scooted away from me.
“Dawn— ”
“Don’t . . . I don’t need your pity. Please just let me get this all out.”
Her voice is thick with emotion, and all I want to do is hug her. But she wants her space. She’s doing all she can to keep the tears from falling. I knew she was strong, but I never would’ve thought she’d been through this. I’m actually relieved she doesn’t remember it happening, or she’d probably be pretty messed up still, even after all these years.
“Sorry. Please know that it’s not pity I’m feeling for you.”
“Thank you. This isn’t an easy story for me to tell, but I have had a lot of years to get passed it all.” She takes a quick drink from the water bottle, and a deep breath before starting again, keeping the distance she just made between us. It doesn’t feel right to be so far from her, not being able to reach out and offer her comfort, but I need to respect her boundaries.
“So, after realizing I was pregnant, I went straight to the store to buy a pregnancy test, then headed home to take it. Brandon wasn’t home when I get there, so I took it immediately. Of course the test proved what I already knew. This time was my turn to go silent. I avoided Michael for a couple of weeks. I knew Brandon was going to be so disappointed in me, and I worried he’d kick me out so he didn’t have to deal with my trouble. I packed my things just in case. I wasn’t sure I could make it on my own. I knew deep in my heart that Michael wasn’t going to stick around for me and the baby.”
My phone ringing on the table next to us stops her, and she takes the opportunity to excuse herself to the bathroom before I have the chance to tell her I’ll ignore the call. Instead of answering it while she’s gone, I give myself a moment to deal with the fact that she has a child that she wasn’t looking for, and the one I loved so dearly is gone without me ever having the chance to hold her and tell her I loved her.
Worried when Dawn isn’t back after a few minutes, I go to check on her, and I hear her crying softly in the bathroom. A little unsure of what I should do, I stand there just staring at the door for what feels like forever. Just as I decide to knock and talk to her, the door opens and we are face-to-face. She’s done her best to make it look as though she hasn’t been crying. Instead of speaking to her, I just pull her into my arms and hold onto her. This is just the beginning of our talk, and it’s only going to get more emotional for the both of us.
“Want to take a break? Have some dinner?”
Still in my arms, she shakes her head and says, “Let’s just get through this.”
“Whatever you want, babe.”
I HAVE TO dig deep to allow Dawn to leave my embrace, but I know I need to so that she doesn’t get the wrong idea. I want to protect her from something she’s already been through. There isn’t anything I can do, and I know it, but I wish I could go back and kick this guy’s ass. I need her to tell me about her child and what happened to the guy, so that
I can tell her about my life before I came here. For her to see that no matter what connection we feel, I can only hurt her by not being able to give her and her child all of me. I could never be around her child and not be angry about losing mine. She needs to see just how little there is left of my heart, and how much more she deserves.
We both take our seats again, and she doesn’t even let a moment lapse before she dives back into her story.
“Even though I knew that Michael, the guy, the dad, wouldn’t want anything to do with me and the baby, I still made an effort to tell him. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to tell me that he wanted to take care of me. He convinced me to move out of Brandon’s and go back home with him. So I packed my things, told Brandon my plan, and he lost his shit. He was so angry that I was going to leave him and go with a virtual stranger to a place where I didn’t know anyone. His last words to me were, ‘your mother would be so upset that you were running off.’” I can see the vacancy in her eyes thinking Brandon’s words spoken in anger would haunt her for the rest of her life.
“Instead of arguing, I thanked him for all he’d done for me and gathered my things. Of course I told him I’d keep in touch, and he told me that he would always have a place for me and the baby if I needed it. He knew I’d be back.
“It wasn’t long after moving that the pattern of disappearing started happening again. I wasn’t sure exactly what Michael did, but he said it was sales, and sometimes it took him out of town very quickly. It seemed weird, but how could I know better. All I did know was that being in Georgia, so far away from Brandon, and feeling alone was hard. I didn’t know anyone, and Michael didn’t want me working, so I was starting to go stir crazy after a few weeks alone. The first time he didn’t come home it was just one night. Eventually, that one night turned into two, and it was happening every week. My car was at Brandon’s, and Michael told me we’d go get it and some more of my stuff his first weekend off. That weekend never came. After two months of this pattern of disappearing, I finally asked him when I was going to get to see a doctor and how I would get a hold of him if something happened. Of course this provoked our first fight, and it caused him to disappear for almost a week. I had a little cash on hand, and had to walk to the store to get some food while he was gone.
A Soldier's Dawning (The Happy Endings Resort Series Book 8) Page 8