One Year Home

by Marie Force

  “Maybe not consciously, but after you saw John, it never occurred to you that you could get back everything you’d lost with him now that he was back and telling you that nothing had changed for him?”

  “No.” I refuse to so much as entertain these possibilities. “That’s not what happened.”

  “No one would blame you, Ava,” she says gently. “You loved John with your whole heart and soul. At no time did either of you consciously decide to end your relationship. Neither of you ever wanted it to end. It’s only natural that once you saw him again, you might rethink the plans you made in his absence.”

  “That’s not what happened. I’m married to Eric. I love him.”

  “I know you do, Ava, but—”

  “No buts. I want Eric, and I’ve tried to tell him that. How am I supposed to save our marriage if he won’t even talk to me?”

  Jessica takes another long pause to think. “Eric has been a trouper through all this, wouldn’t you agree? He’s rolled with things that other men would’ve found to be too much. He went with you to San Diego so you could see your long-lost love. He supported you every step of the way through an unimaginable situation. His devotion to you never wavered.”

  “I agree with all that. So what’s your point?”

  “Would it be okay if I spoke to him alone?”

  “Of course. I’d do anything necessary to resolve this. I want him to know…”

  “What do you want him to know?”

  “That I love him.” Tears spill down my cheeks. I mop them up with the new tissue she hands me. “That I want him and the life we have planned.”

  “You’re going to have to sell that to him, Ava.”

  “I thought I already had.”

  “He’s not convinced.” She seems to choose her words carefully. “I think you’d agree that your relationship with Eric came somewhat easily to you once you gave yourself permission to be with him. He was agreeable, understanding and supportive of the situation you were in with John’s whereabouts being unknown. Right?”

  “He was very good to me through it all. I’d never say otherwise.”

  “Would you agree that he was good to you at his own expense at times?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Roll with me here… Imagine you’re Eric in this situation. You’ve been through the dreadful ordeal with Brittany and come out on the other side a changed man. You’re jaded and bitter about what she did and not at all interested in other women. Until you meet an amazing woman at your brother’s wedding, and suddenly, everything is better. You’re looking forward rather than dwelling on the past, and life is good again. There’s only one small problem—she’s still pining for a guy who’s been gone for years, who may or may not be alive. We know he’s most likely off on a valiant mission on behalf of the country, hunting down a terrorist. I mean, you can’t even hate the guy.

  “So, that guy is gone. Eric is here, with her, and he’s falling hard for her and she seems to be falling just as hard. He proposes, she accepts, they begin to plan a wedding, and everyone is happy. And then, all hell breaks loose when the special forces guys get the terrorist. That changes everything. Suddenly, she’s on pins and needles wondering what became of the man she loves—present tense, not past—and when there’s no word on him, she’s obviously in agony over what became of him. Still, Eric stands by her, offering support and love and compassion. Then the terrorists release a video that shows her guy was right in the middle of it, he was wounded, perhaps killed, but no one knows for sure, and she’s going mad waiting to find out what happened to him.

  “Still, Eric stands by her, holds her when she cries, uses his connections to get the info she needs and finds out that her guy is alive, badly wounded, but alive. And when she hears nothing from the guy and begins to think he’s probably forgotten about her, Eric helps her over that hurdle and remains steadfast in his devotion to her, even when it turns out the guy hasn’t forgotten her and would very much like to see her.”

  I listen to Jess’s recitation of events with a growing sense of dread. Look at what I put him through. No wonder he’s done. Anyone else would’ve been gone a long time ago. But not Eric. He stayed, and how do I thank him for that? By having vivid dreams about John while we’re on our honeymoon.

  “Do you understand where I’m going with this?”

  “Yeah, I do, and I don’t blame him for calling it quits. He was a fool to stay with me as long as he did.”

  “That’s not my point, Ava. My point is that Eric did most of the heavy lifting in your relationship, and now it’s your turn. If you mean it when you say you had no doubts about marrying him and never once considered calling off your wedding, you’re going to have to sell that to him. You’re going to have to do the heavy lifting.”

  “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it work with him, but I can’t do anything if he won’t talk to me.”

  “I’ll take care of that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ERIC

  I get a text from Jessica that says we need to talk and that it’s urgent. I don’t want to talk to her or anyone. I’m holed up in Rob and Camille’s guest room, trying to get some work done. I’m supposed to be on my honeymoon, so I wasn’t expected at the office today, but I fired up my laptop because I need to keep busy while I try not to lose my mind. I’ve also got shit to do for Rob’s campaign, which I’m supposed to start managing as of the Tuesday after Labor Day.

  But my focus is nonexistent.

  I’m such a fool. That’s the bottom line. I didn’t learn anything from what happened with Brittany, not that I would ever compare Ava to her. What I didn’t learn was to set limits for how much of myself I’m willing to give to someone else. Once again, I went all in, and once again, I got burned. I should’ve bailed on Ava when she first told me about John. That would’ve been the smart thing to do after hearing she had unfinished business with him.

  Sure, he’d been gone more than five years at that point, but as far as she knew, he was still alive. I should’ve known he’d return in a blaze of glory that would make him the most celebrated man on earth, and that he’d want Ava back. Of course he would. Anyone would want her.

  So I blame myself for the mess we find ourselves in. I never should’ve gotten so caught up in the magic of falling in love with Ava that I became blind to the massive obstacles standing between us and our happy ending.

  Namely, one Captain John West. Why not say his name? He’s the third person in our marriage, after all, so he deserves to be called out and given top billing right along with Ava and me.

  The phone rings with a call from Jessica. I take it only because I figure she’s not going to give up until she talks to me. What does it matter? It won’t change anything as far as I’m concerned.

  “Hi, Jess.”

  “Oh, Eric, I’m glad I reached you. I was wondering if you might have time to come in later today.”

  “By myself?”

  “Yes.” That’s the only scenario I’d consider right now. “Is that allowed?” She’s Ava’s therapist, first and foremost.

  “It’s all set.” In other words, Ava gave Jess permission to talk to me. Whatever. “When could you come?”

  She’s a crisis counselor and doesn’t take a lot of regular appointments so she can be available when her clients need her. I guess Ava and I are the crisis du jour.

  “An hour?”

  “That works. Do you have the address?”

  “Yes.”

  “See you then.” She ends the call before I can change my mind.

  I instantly regret agreeing to see her, because that means I have to shower and get dressed and leave the sanctuary I’ve found in my brother’s guest room. By the time I go through the motions of showering, I’m exhausted. But I told Jess I’d be there, so I text Rob to let him know I’m leaving for a bit and head out into a warm, sunny late afternoon in New York City.

  Some people flee the city in the summer, but that�
�s my favorite time of year here. I love to take long walks and eat outside and have drinks on rooftop decks. Sure, it gets hot and smelly, but the pluses outweigh the minuses for me. Today, everything looks different to me after yet another relationship has blown up in my face. I couldn’t care less about summer or roof decks or cocktails. I don’t give a shit about work or Rob’s campaign or anything else. What does any of it matter?

  I grab a cab and direct the driver to Third Avenue. I use my phone to look up the actual address and give it to him. Then I sit back and watch the city go by without seeing much of anything. My brain keeps wandering back to that morning in Spain when Ava told me about her dreams.

  I know she can’t help what she dreams about, but hearing that she was dreaming about him, that she was dreaming about having sex with him… That broke something in me, and I’m not sure it can be put back together. I’m not sure I want to put it back together.

  We pull up to the street-level deli, and I hand the driver a twenty. The smells coming from the deli remind me that I haven’t eaten anything all day. Maybe I’ll stop there after I see Jess. She buzzes me in and waits for me outside her office.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  My normal response would be to say “no problem” or “happy to” or some other such thing that would be a lie. It was a problem to come, and I’m not at all happy to be there.

  “I saw Ava earlier.”

  I figured as much, so I have nothing to say to that.

  “She’s upset that you won’t talk to her.”

  “I’m upset that she’s dreaming about her ex. At least we’re both upset.”

  “I have to be honest with you. I expected this to happen after San Diego.”

  I’m confused. “Expected what to happen?”

  “For you to say enough. I expected you to call off the wedding.”

  “That’s funny, because I expected her to.”

  “Did you, really?”

  “Yes, I really did. She was a zombie after she saw him. The first week, she barely had anything to say to me, and then she seemed to rally leading up to the wedding. But the whole time, I was waiting for her to say, ‘I can’t do this.’ I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

  “I think she’d be surprised to hear you say that.”

  “Really?” I’m well aware of the bitter edge to my voice, but how am I supposed to feel? “My friends told me not to marry her.”

  “Did they?”

  I nod, recalling the boys’ night out that Rob organized for me before the wedding. “My brother got a bunch of our friends together. I didn’t want a traditional bachelor party or a weekend in Vegas or anything like that. In hindsight, that was probably because I was afraid to leave Ava for even a few days at that time.”

  “Because you were afraid she’d change her mind?”

  “Among other things. She was fragile. You saw her after San Diego. You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. So what happened with your friends?”

  It pains me to think about this and how stupid I was not to listen to them. “I hadn’t seen them in a while, and none of them had met Ava. I confided to them that Ava had been with John before the deployment, that no one knew that and how important it was to keep it quiet. When they heard the whole story, my friend Rory said, ‘Dude, you’re seriously going to marry this girl?’ He could see disaster looming, but I refused to go there. The others weren’t quite as blunt as Rory was, but they didn’t disagree with him.”

  “What did Rob say about it?”

  “Not much. He was in a weird spot, being married to Ava’s sister. It wasn’t like he could encourage me to call off the wedding to his sister-in-law without causing trouble in his own marriage. But with hindsight, it was clear that he had reservations, too. Everyone who knew the situation probably did.”

  “I didn’t.”

  I’m taken aback by the forceful way she says the two little words.

  “If I’d thought Ava was making a mistake by marrying you, I would’ve said so. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t beat around the bush with my clients. If I see them about to do something that’s going to make whatever brought them to me in the first place worse, I jump in front of that. I saw no need to do that in this case. Before your wedding, Ava never gave any indication that she was having second thoughts about marrying you. She never once said, ‘Jessica, what should I do?’ She spoke only of how amazing you were, how supportive and understanding. She said she wasn’t sure how she would’ve gotten through the trauma of John’s reentry into her life without you. Earlier today, she sat right where you are now and told me that all she wants is to be married to you.”

  I listen to what she’s saying, and the words register with me, but I still feel… I don’t know… removed from it all, as if I’m watching this happen to someone else. One of the things Ava and I have both liked about Jessica is her no-nonsense approach. It’s helped us through more than one crisis, and it matters to me that she saw nothing to be concerned about before the wedding, despite having a front-row seat to the entire drama.

  “What I know for sure,” Jessica continues, “is that you can’t save your marriage if you don’t talk to your wife.”

  “I’m not sure I want to save my marriage.” There. I said it. It’s out there and can’t ever be taken back, not that I want to take it back. It’s the truth.

  “I have to confess… I’m truly stunned to hear you say that. Do you honestly think Ava wants any of this to be happening?”

  “I’m quite sure she doesn't want it. Who would? But something just kind of snapped for me in Spain, and now… I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  “Here’s what I know. A few weeks ago, you married the woman you told me you love more than life. You married her knowing full well about her past and how traumatic it was for her. You married her knowing that while she’d made considerable strides in putting that traumatic past behind her, she was certainly not finished with the process. You knew exactly who and what you were getting. So how is it fair for you to now decide that maybe that wasn’t what you wanted after all?”

  The question infuriates me. “You want to talk about what’s fair? Is it fair to me that there will always be another man in my marriage, in my wife’s heart, in our lives? Is that fair to me?”

  “Eric, you knew this before you married her. You knew he was part of the package.”

  “I didn’t know he was going to be in our bed with us! I had no idea that was going to happen!”

  “Neither did she.”

  “Look, I get that you’re on Ava’s side here—”

  She holds up a hand to stop me. “Whoa. I’m not on anyone’s side. I want both of you to get what you want, and right up until yesterday, that was each other, or at least I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “It was.”

  “And now?”

  “I don’t know.” Filled with despair, I look down at the floor. I can’t believe I’m back in this fucked-up place again. “I just don’t know if I can do this.”

  I can feel the disappointment coming from her even though she doesn’t say anything for a full minute.

  “I told my friends about you.”

  Raising my head, I meet her gaze. “What?”

  “No names or specifics, of course. I just mentioned that I had this couple come through my practice and that the woman was dealing with some heavy stuff, and her partner was nothing short of amazing in the way he supported and cared for her through it all. I told them I was inspired by you both, but by you in particular.”

  “Now I really feel like an asshole.”

  “You’re not an asshole, Eric. You’re the furthest thing from that. But if you check out of this marriage, I think you’re going to wake up one day and realize you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. Ava loves you. She truly loves you. She wants to be married to you and have the life you two planned to spend together.”

  “I need some time.”

  “
Okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “What else should I say? You need time? Take the time, but don’t take too long. I’d hate to see you have regrets down the road.”

  I get up to leave.

  “Eric? When you’re ready, let me know. I’d like to have you in together.”

  Nodding, I walk through the door and down the stairs to the street level. The smell of the deli invades my senses and turns my stomach. The thought of food revolts me. I head home on foot, keeping my head down as I cross over midtown on my way back to Tribeca. I see nothing but the dirty sidewalk as I cover miles while rethinking the things Jessica said as well as what I said to her.

  I should call my wife, but I have no desire to talk to her, which is the first time I can say that since I met her more than a year ago. The weekend her sister married my brother was the best time I’d had since the disaster with Brittany, and that was largely due to Ava. We were matched up as the best man and maid of honor, and I liked her from the first minute we met. I think about her getting drunk at the reception and how I “saved her life” with my miracle pizza cure. We spent the night together in her room after the wedding, but nothing happened. Not that night, anyway.

  I fall in love fast. That’s my modus operandi. It’s happened three times now. The first one burned out when we went to separate colleges more than five hundred miles apart. The second one became an epic disaster when Brittany exited my life without so much as a word to me. The third one…

  I don’t know how or if that one will end. I just don’t know.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  JULIANNE

  After the appearance on Kelly and Ryan, we spend an hour at a clinic where John receives three staples in the head wound that he says “hurt like a motherfucker.”

  The thought of staples to the head makes me queasy, so I encourage him to keep the details to himself before we have a second patient on our hands. I suck with medical stuff. I can’t believe I didn’t faint earlier when I saw the blood pouring out of his head.