While my computer booted up, I got dressed in a pair of workout shorts and a t-shirt. Rogers would probably want to hit the gym when he got off duty. The guy loved to workout. I didn’t mind, working out was how I channeled a lot of my anger and frustration during boot camp and the years that followed. I had to admit, it was satisfying to see Anna eye me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. Gone was the boy she’d left behind without a care in the world four and a half years ago. In his place was a man…a bigger, stronger, and better man.
I opened my email and scrolled through the usual video game newsletters and spam, deleting half of what was there. Then I paused. Near the bottom of my inbox was an email from her.
Anna.
The mouse’s arrow hesitated over the message. Did I want to read this? Did I want to know what she had to say?
The answer was a resounding yes. I’d been waiting more than four years for the girl to talk to me. To talk to her. Without another moment’s hesitation, I opened the message and poured over her words, re-reading it several times before finally sitting back in my seat.
She was sorry.
She was scared.
She hadn’t wanted to feel.
My chest tightened. She’d been hurting so badly. I knew it back then. I did. Part of me went right back to that place, wishing I could have done more for her. But another part, the rational part, knew I’d done everything I could. She wasn’t ready then.
But it sounded like she was ready now.
She wanted to send me something. I had no idea what it might be, but I was curious. I couldn’t help it.
What would she think when she found out I was only a few hours north of her in Norfolk? I hoped she wouldn’t want to visit. I wasn’t ready for that. Responding to her email was difficult enough.
I thought email would be a safe, impersonal way to communicate, but I was wrong. Nothing about me and Anna was impersonal. It never had been, and it never would be.
***
After the gym that night, I sat down in front of the computer, ready to respond to Anna. I invited her message, I couldn’t ignore it.
To: Anna Romano
From: Ryan Jacobs
Subject: RE: Hello
Dear Anna,
It’s good to hear from you. You seem to be adjusting well to being at home so far. I’m happy to hear that. I know you were apprehensive, but I also knew you had nothing to worry about. Hate to say it, but I told you so. You don’t have to apologize, but I appreciate your need to do so. I know you were hurting back then, that things weren’t quite right. I had no idea the depths of what you were experiencing, couldn’t quite wrap my head around it, you know? The way I processed that day was so much different than you, and it took me a while to realize that that was perfectly okay. So don’t apologize. It’s in the past. Just get well, okay? And I only did what was right in taking you home, so you don’t have to thank me. Anna, I’m proud of you for recognizing that it was time to make a change. I’m proud of you for taking the steps necessary to get better. You should be proud of yourself, too. Don’t undermine your progress. Even going to one therapy appointment is a positive step. Remember that, and celebrate it.
The Navy is everything I dreamed of and more. I love my job, and I love being part of something so much bigger than myself. It’s a family here. I room with a guy I’ve known since boot camp. We have the same rating (job), and we’ve gotten lucky and ended up in the same places so far, though I doubt that will always be the case. I’ve been a lot of places and seen a lot of things. It’s been an experience. I re-upped. Another four years. I really can’t imagine doing anything else with my life. It’s been that good.
I’ve got duty early tomorrow, so I’m going to cut this off. It was nice hearing from you.
Ryan
I typed my address at the bottom, then re-read the message. It was perfectly innocuous. My greatest fear was giving her hope. Not hope for her future—I wanted her to have that—but hope for a future with me. It would be better for both of us if we didn’t return to that place. There was too much going on in my life for me to add Anna to it. It wouldn’t be fair to her.
Friends.
That was all we could be.
Right.
When had Anna and I ever been able to just be friends? We practically started dating the moment we met. Then, we broke up and never spoke to one another again.
Until now…
~ 11 ~
Anna
Virginia. He was in Virginia. So close. My body tingled. I didn’t want a relationship, but I wanted his friendship. Maybe, one day, I would be able to visit him. Or he could come back here. Either would be nice.
I picked up the photo envelope I had tucked away in one of my desk drawers. It was just the right size for the treehouse sketch, and the rigidness of the cardboard would keep the paper from bending. After carefully printing Ryan’s name and address on the envelope, I slid the sketch inside and sealed it.
I’d ask Mom to stop by the post office after the soup kitchen tomorrow. It would be my third time going. Serving the community made me feel like I was doing something, and it felt good to help people. It grounded me.
Settling the envelope on the corner of my desk, I clicked to reply to Ryan’s email.
To: Ryan Jacobs
From: Anna Romano
Subject: Virginia?
Dear Ryan,
I’m going to send your package tomorrow. I didn’t realize you were so close. I knew you were just visiting Seattle, but for some reason, I thought you lived on the west coast. Do you get home to see your parents often? I guess they still live here. I didn’t ask, but I assumed you stayed at their house while you were here.
I’ve been volunteering with my mom. I don’t think I mentioned that in my last message. I might have…I rambled a lot in that message, so I don’t know. Sorry about that. Mom volunteers at the soup kitchen over off Central. It’s rewarding. It feels so weird to say that I get any kind of value from working with people less fortunate. It feels wrong, like I shouldn’t value that time because it’s probably the worst time of their lives. They probably want to forget it, but I never will. When I was in Seattle, I lived off ramen noodles. I was one night of bad tips away from having to eat at a soup kitchen myself. I probably wouldn’t have gone though. I think I would have been too scared, too ashamed. Is it crazy that I probably would have gone hungry before asking for help? I’m not sure why I just told you all that. I promised myself that I wouldn’t erase anything I wrote though. That if I say it, it’s because I have to get it out, you know?
I’m glad you’re enjoying the Navy. Thank you for your service. I didn’t say that to you when we were together, and I should have. It’s because of people like you, that people like me can make stupid mistakes and then have the opportunity to correct them. So four more years, huh? Have you been overseas at all? Seems silly to ask that since you’re in the Navy, and, well…boats. I guess I’m wondering if you’ve been in a war zone? Are you ever scared? What is your job? Will you tell me about it?
I’m not sure if I should talk about my sessions with Dr. Matson or not, but I’m going to tell you about them. A little at least. She had me think of activities I used to do before…and I did (reading, sketching, hiking), and now she’s having me try to do them again. I really like her. I think I liked her back when I was in Three Lakes, too, but I was so scared and angry and numb that I didn’t let myself feel it. I’m glad she agreed to see me again. Anyway, I’ve been sketching and reading. Ronnie lent me her e-reader. She has a lot of romance novels. I just started one about a fighter. It’s so different from the young adult stuff I used to read, but I like it. I haven’t hiked yet, it’s a little cold for that. Which is kind of ironic since I lived in Seattle for so long, and the North Carolina cold is nothing like Seattle cold, but it’s funny…ever since I got warm, I haven’t wanted to be cold.
Thanks for writing me back, Ryan. My family has been great, and I enjoy being back home with t
hem, but it’s nice having a friend.
Take care,
Anna
As I clicked send, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I quickly closed the web browser and slammed the screen down on my laptop, as if I’d been doing something wrong. I wasn’t ready for my family to know I was talking with Ryan yet. I didn’t want them to see it as something more than it was, a friendship.
I hurried to the door and opened it, seeing my dad on the other side. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
“Hi, sweetheart. What are you up to?” He leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
“I was just getting ready to read a book Ronnie loaned me.”
“Ah,” he said, shaking his head. He must have known the kinds of books Ronnie read. “She’s asking for your downstairs.”
“Okay, I’ll be right down.”
He nodded, then turned away.
I closed the door and leaned my back against it. That was close. It wasn’t a big deal to me that Ryan and I were talking again. I just didn’t want my family to get the wrong idea. That was it. Purely platonic, I told myself.
Sure, I still had feelings for Ryan. I’d probably always love him. But it wasn’t the same kind of feelings as before. Maybe someday I’d be ready to fall in love…but maybe never again with Ryan. The way I’d brushed him off was harsh. Even though he told me not to apologize, he probably wouldn’t ever want a relationship with me again.
How could he ever forgive me for breaking his heart?
There was no use in thinking about it, though. We were friends, and that was that.
***
“He is the ultimate alpha male. The alpha all other alphas should be based off of. Don’t you think?”
Ronnie was currently gushing about the fighter in the book I was supposed to be reading. As one of her favorites, she’d read it several times. She remembered parts of the plot and descriptions I couldn’t remember, and I was currently reading it.
“Uh…yeah. He’s really great.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re not even into it, Anna.”
I glanced at her, raising my eyebrows. She was stretched out on her bed, and I was on the chaise by the window in her first floor bedroom. Her Kindle was propped up on my chest, and she was reading off the app on her iPad.
“I’m into it, Ronnie. That’s why I’m reading it and not talking. Are you bored with your book?”
“Psh. I’m lost in the world of a sexy, alpha billionaire. I’m totally into it. I just like to talk books! You’re killing me.” She dropped her iPad onto her lap and closed her eyes, resting one arm across her face. She was impossible. Impossible and dramatic.
Setting the Kindle down, I resigned myself to talk alpha billionaires. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”
“Never mind,” she said, lifting her iPad and continuing to read.
Picking up the Kindle again, I proceeded with the story, hiding my smile behind the e-reader.
“You’re going to have to get your own Kindle. This thing gets heavy after a while,” Ronnie whined after a moment, tipping her iPad back and forth for emphasis.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“See that you do,” she retorted sassily, and I grinned.
Sisters.
I loved it.
~ 12 ~
Anna
“What’s been going on since our last session?” Dr. Matson asked me once we were both settled in her small office. I chose to sit in one of the arm chairs this time, leaving the couch for Dr. Matson, just to change things up a little bit.
“I’ve sketched a little…and I’m reading a book,” I added as an afterthought.
“That’s great,” she said, a genuine smile taking over her face. “Anything else?”
Did I tell her the truth? She was bound by confidentiality, so she couldn’t tell my parents. Not that I was doing anything wrong.
“I’ve been emailing with Ryan. Nothing major, just sort of catching up. I apologized to him and also thanked him for helping me get back home.”
She nodded, her brows drawn. “How has corresponding with Ryan made you feel?”
I chuckled internally at her very therapist-like question. “Good. Relieved. I don’t know.”
“Those are powerful feelings for you to have, Anna. You shouldn’t underestimate them. In our first session, you described your feelings as guilty, numb and scared. Now you’re using positive descriptors. That’s a good thing.”
“I guess.”
“What else is there? I feel like you might be leaving something out.”
She was so darn perceptive. “I haven’t told my family that Ryan and I are talking.”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t want them to think something is going on that isn’t.”
“What is going on?”
“Nothing. We’re just friends. It’s nice to have a friend again, someone outside of my family to talk to.”
“Have you been having any conflicts at home?”
“No,” I stiffened and spit the next words out. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t think that. I was only asking because you said it was nice having someone outside of your family to talk to.”
I relaxed back in my seat, which was difficult to do because the back of the armchair was as hard as a board. I was so taking back the couch next session.
“There’s nothing wrong at home. They’ve been great. It’s just…they treat me with kid gloves, you know? I understand why, I guess. They’re probably afraid I’ll break again…or run. So it’s nice to talk to Ryan because I don’t feel like he’s analyzing everything I do or say.”
“Let’s get back to you not telling your family that you’re talking to him. You said you don’t want them to think something is going on.”
“They might think we’re going to get back together or something. We’re not.”
“You said you weren’t ready for that,” she reminded me of my words from the last session.
“I’m not. I don’t want a relationship. I just want a friend, but all Ryan and I have ever been is more than friends. I’m not sure they’d believe me that nothing was going on. They have no reason to trust me.”
“They trust Ryan,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah, they do,” I agreed.
“You’re afraid they won’t believe your words.”
“That and my feelings,” I say quietly, studying the brown shag carpet under the small coffee table in the center of the space.
“Your feelings?”
“Yeah, like they might think I don’t know what I’m feeling. They might think, ‘Poor Anna, she doesn’t even realize she’s crushing on Ryan.’”
“You feel like their lack of trust spreads beyond just your words and actions to your emotions as well?”
“Can’t really blame them if they feel that way, right?” I asked, looking up at her briefly. “I haven’t given them a whole lot of reason to trust me, physically or emotionally.”
“Have you given them any reason not to trust you since you’ve been home?”
“No. I don’t think so. But how could they trust me? They remember the daughter and sister who stopped speaking, physically harmed herself, then took off for years. Why should they trust me?”
“I can’t answer that for you, Anna. It sounds to me like you have a bit of resentment towards yourself for your actions. Have you considered forgiving yourself?”
No, I hadn’t considered that. I shook my head.
“Anna, I think you might be painting yourself in a negative light because you’re still upset with yourself. I think the feelings you’re imagining your family having towards you are a reflection of how you feel about yourself. Does that make sense?”
Oddly, yes. It made perfect sense. But was it true?
I was disgusted with myself for the way I’d hurt my family…the way I hurt Ryan. Was I really projecting that onto other people the way Dr. Matson suggested? Maybe
I was.
“It makes sense. I think…you might be right,” I admitted.
“I want you to think about that between now and our next session. Maybe even make a list of the things you like about yourself. Good qualities you have. What are your assets?” I nodded my acceptance of the assignment. “Maybe consider keeping a journal,” she suggested. “It might be neat to look back on so you can see your progress.”
“Okay, I might do that.” I liked journaling. I had a couple diaries as a kid. I never stuck with them, but they were fun while they lasted.
“Great,” she said, slapping her hands on her legs. “So let’s talk about your activities. What have you been reading and drawing?”
We spent the rest of the session talking about the images I’d drawn and the book Ronnie had lent me. I was a little embarrassed to share that last one, but she quickly diffused that when she turned around and made a few contemporary romance suggestions of her own. I never would have guessed she was a romance reader…it went to show you couldn’t judge a book by its cover.
I left the session feeling even lighter.
The lightness didn’t last long, though. As soon as I got home and checked my email, my heart dropped into my stomach. He was deploying.
Ryan was leaving.
~ 13 ~
Ryan
To: Anna Romano
From: Ryan Jacobs
Subject: RE: Virginia?
Dear Anna,
Yeah, I’m in Virginia. I’ll be heading somewhere else after my deployment though, so I won’t be here too much longer. Hopefully it’s stateside, but I don’t really get much of a choice in the matter.
Those books sound interesting. I don’t read much unless it has to do with training or procedures. I had enough of that in high school, being forced to read whatever novel the English teachers deemed appropriate for our grade level. I always bought the Cliff’s Notes, or looked up the plots online. And that’s great that you’ve been sketching again. You always loved it, and you were so talented. It’s cool you like Dr. Matson, that’s gotta be helpful for you, right? Having someone you like to talk to. I hope everything works out for you, I really do.
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