by Jessica Ames
Chris
April seems okay after she shuts the door in her ex’s face and heads back into the kitchen, but I sense that argument shook her more than she’s letting on.
“The eggs are overdone,” she says, sounding dismayed as she pulls the pan off the heat.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her.
“It does. You went to a lot of trouble to make this, and Milo the asshole ruined it.”
I watch as she leans her hands on the counter and lets her shoulders sag. I want to go to her, but I’m not sure that’s the right thing to do, so I keep my distance… for now.
“Does he do that a lot?”
“What? Turn up and yell at men who’ve stayed over?” she rolls her eyes. “You’re the first guy I’ve really been with since the divorce. I mean, Milo was enough to make a girl practice celibacy.”
I snort. “I can understand that. You seem kind of ill-suited.”
Both times she’s been with him, they’ve argued. He seems to drag her down, too, which I don’t like. April is a vibrant, vivacious woman. She shouldn’t be brought low by anyone.
Although this is what will happen when she realizes she’s involved with a man like me—a man capable of destroying someone else’s life. April deserves better. She should have better. I’m no good for her.
I push this thought down as she replies to my statement.
“We weren’t. I was just stupid. I was taken in by the older guy thing. I thought he knew everything. Spoiler alert—he didn’t. In fact, he spent all his time chasing younger women. Once I hit my late twenties, I was too old for him and he found his fun elsewhere.” She sighs. “I wish I would have figured it out before I wasted so much time with him.”
Guilt hits me in the gut. She was lied to by one man for years. Now, I’m starting this on a lie. I need to tell her, but the words stick in my throat, because I know the moment I tell her what I did, we’re over. She’ll never accept me or what I did, and I’m not ready to give her up yet.
It’s selfish, but I need her in my life. She’s my salvation. When I’m with her my world quiets, my guilt dissipates, and for a time I feel normal, human. She’s the Band Aid on my gaping wounds, the only thing holding me together.
“Sometimes we’re blinded by our feelings,” I say. It’s a double-edged sword. She was blinded by her feelings for Milo, but I’m completely blinded by my feelings for her.
I need to tell her who I really am.
“Luke…” I start and break off, rubbing the back of my neck.
Her brows knit together. “What about him?” she presses when I don’t speak.
“It’s my fault.” The words come out in a rush.
“What is?”
“Him being the way he is. I did that to him.”
She stares at me. “What do you mean?”
“It was my order that put him in front of that IED. I caused him to be lying in that hospital bed day after day, never getting better.”
April glances down, and my chest feels so tight, I struggle to draw air in. I have no idea what she’s going to say and the loss of control leaves me reeling internally.
“Why are you telling me this?”
I have no clue, but I feel the need to confess to her my part in this. She’ll only find out later anyway, once I’m too far gone.
Truthfully, I’m too far gone now. Giving her up doesn’t seem like an option at all.
“Because you deserve to know what kind of man I am—what kind of man you’re getting involved with.”
I watch her brow furrow before she raises her eyes to mine. “Do you mean the kind of man who stays the night because someone is afraid? Or what about the kind of man who stands between me and someone he thinks is going to hurt me? Maybe you mean the kind of man who visits his friend every week, even though it physically hurts him to do it.” Her smile is a little sad. “I figured out a long time ago, Chris, that you blamed yourself for Luke’s accident, what I don’t understand is why.”
“It wasn’t an accident, sweetheart. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“You were in a war zone, Chris. Things happen that you don’t plan for. It’s horrible and it shouldn’t happen, but that’s life. He could have hit his head falling down at home and still been in this position. You didn’t cause it. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time—much like Luke himself.” She lets out a long breath. “Sometimes, there’s no rhyme or reason for it. It just is. I’m sure you didn’t plan on Luke getting hurt.”
“No, but—”
“But nothing. God, have you been giving yourself a hard time over this all these years?” She pushes up and comes to me, her hands on my arms. “You’re not to blame, and I’m sure if Luke could speak, he’d tell you the same.”
If he could speak, he’d tell me I ruined his life. I ruined his wife and daughter’s too.
“You can’t blame yourself for this,” she continues. “It wasn’t your fault and you need to let go of that guilt.”
“I’m not sure I can,” I admit.
“But you have to. It’ll eat you alive otherwise.”
“It doesn’t seem right that I get to have a life and he doesn’t.”
Her eyes narrow on me as I blurt the truth I’ve kept locked down since it happened.
“Bad things happen to good people, but that doesn’t mean you get to check out or blame yourself. What happened was a terrible accident, Chris, and nothing more.”
“You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
“No, I wasn’t there, but unless you threw him into the trajectory of that bomb, you shouldn’t blame yourself. It’s not a reason to shut yourself off from life, from the people who love you and need you.” She tips her head to the side. “Is this why you avoided me for so long? Your guilt? You didn’t think you deserved to be happy?”
I don’t say anything. What can I say?
She throws her hands into the air.
“You’re an idiot, Christopher Bannerman. A complete and utter fool. Did you think I’d be disgusted when I found out this big dark secret you’re harboring? Honestly, you’re crazy if you think that. What happened was not your fault.”
It wasn’t my fault…
I close my eyes.
“You need to talk to someone if you honestly think you’re to blame for this.”
J said the same thing, but spilling my guts to a stranger doesn’t make me feel anything but trepidation.
“Sitting and talking to a shrink isn’t really my style, sweetheart.”
“No, but if you don’t, you’ll never get ahead of this. Life is short, Chris. Luke proves how things you take for granted can be snatched from you in an instant. You do him and you do yourself a disservice by not living every day like it’s your last.” She shakes her head. “So, Chris, it’s time to stop existing and start living life again. And you can start with me. Get over here and kiss me.”
23
April
“So, spill everything,” Maxine demands as soon as I hit the reception desk in the care center.
“Spill what?” I ask, pulling my purse off my shoulder.
“Don’t give me that! We all saw you climbing off the back of Mr. Hot Stuff’s bike. Are you two together? Me and Jen are practically married which means I’m now living vicariously through you. Give me something to work with here.”
“Oh please. Like you and Jen aren’t at it like rabbits every opportunity.” This is not an exaggeration. Maxine isn’t exactly shy about sharing her sex life with her soon-to-be wife with me.
She tosses her head a little, a smug look crossing her face. “I have no complaints.” She smacks my arm. “Anyway, quit getting me off track. Tell me about you and the biker hottie.”
I feel heat rising in my cheeks. Clearly, getting a ride in with Chris this morning was a bad idea, but he’s decided he’s staying with me all week while Bekah is on nights—something she also thought was a good idea. He seems to think this means he also has to drop me
off in the morning and pick me up at the end of my shift. I was already late, so I didn’t argue. Plus, I really love being on the back of his bike. I’m not sure if I’m having my rebellious phase in my thirties, but riding is a freedom I never expected.
So, any chance to get up behind him is definitely not to be wasted.
I didn’t expect to deal with nosy co-workers, though. Maxine’s eyes are wide and bright as she waits for an answer. Nolan seems a little quieter and, at a guess, I would say irritated. Okay, I know it’s not professional to race up to the front door on a Harley, but it’s not like I committed a cardinal sin.
Besides, Chris is hardly a bad boy. In fact, he’s one of the best men I’ve ever met. This is why his confession confused me. If he thinks his actions are something he needs to beat himself up for, then he’s got a problem. I wasn’t there, but I know what happened to Luke was not his fault. It was no one’s fault. War is a dangerous business. His view on the matter, the fact he thinks he had any control, is a little concerning. For all this time he’s been in this self-imposed punishment trip. I have to show him it’s not necessary.
We talked for a long time last night, which is why I was late this morning (we overslept). I hope I put some things into perspective for him, but knowing Chris, he won’t have listened. He’s too determined to blame himself, as if he threw Luke on that IED. It’s ridiculous, but guilt, I suppose, doesn’t always make sense.
“Chris gave me a ride in, and that’s all I’m spilling.”
Maxine’s eyebrows wiggle. “Are you seeing him?”
“This is worse than high school…” I mutter. “I’m…” I break off, because I have no idea what me and Chris are yet. “We’ve had a couple of dates.”
“And he stayed over last night?” Nolan asks. His tone rubs me the wrong way.
“Yes, he did. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“He’s a friend of a patient. Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get in?”
“Absolutely none,” says Maxine before I can. “Oh, come on, No, it’s not like she pursued him the moment he walked through the doors. This has been a slow burn over a couple of years. I can’t see anyone caring either. It’s not like he’s a patient. That would be unethical.”
“There’s no rules about it,” I say seriously. I know this because I checked. I read the handbook.
“Well, at least that’s something,” he mutters and walks off in the direction of the employees’ lounge.
I turn to Maxine. “What’s his problem?”
“Tough night. Mr. Murphy deteriorated. We had to get the EMTs out to him.”
My stomach sinks at this. Mr. Murphy has been with us for a long time.
“Was he admitted to the hospital, or is he still here?”
“He’s at the hospital. Nolan called his family, who went up there to meet him.”
I nod, my good mood souring. This is the part of my job I hate. I wish we didn’t have the constant risk of residents passing away, but many of the people here have complicated and long-term conditions that do not always lend to a healthy outcome.
“Nolan took it hard?”
She squeezes my shoulder as she rounds the desk. “Yeah. He’s been a grumpy shit for the past few days. This just exacerbated everything.”
I wonder what is wrong with Nolan, but I don’t get a chance to ask Maxine, because he’s coming back down the corridor, his saddle bag slung across his body. He mutters a “goodbye” before heading straight for the exit.
“He’s taking this hard.”
“He likes Mr. Murphy.” Maxine shrugs. “He’ll be all right after a few hours’ sleep, I’m sure.”
I’m not so sure, but I smile anyway. “Tell me about everyone else.”
She runs through the rest of the residents, bringing me up to speed on their care then she heads home.
I make my way to the employees’ lounge to lock my stuff away and grab my ID badge. Checking my cell phone before I shut my things away, I see a message from Chris. Considering he only just dropped me off, I have no clue what he could be texting me.
I open the message and my heart swells as I read it.
CHRIS: Have a good day, beautiful. I’ll see you tonight. If you’re not too tired, I’ll treat us to takeout. Thank you for being so understanding x
* * *
ME: Takeout sounds amazing. I have a feeling I’m going to have one of those days today. And don’t thank me. I’ll see you later x
I lock up my locker, straighten my lanyard, and head into the bowels of the building to check everyone is starting to get up and moving.
There are two other support workers on today, and they seem to be on top of things, so I wander back toward the desk, intending to catch up on some paperwork. Instead, I find my feet taking me to Luke Wright’s room. I pause outside and stare at the door, my emotions in turmoil. What happened to Luke was terrible, but there’s no way anyone was to blame for it.
I knock, even though I know he won’t acknowledge it, and step into his room. He’s already sitting in the chair at the side of the bed, staring vacantly toward the window. It breaks my heart to see him like this, and I understand why Chris might blame himself for what happened, but I refuse to believe his stance that he caused this. Things happen in a war zone, things nobody can plan for. What happened to Luke is terrible, but it’s no one’s fault.
“I wish you could tell your friend to stop being such an idiot,” I mutter.
24
April
Nolan’s mood doesn’t seem to have lifted when he returns back to work in the evening. I try to assure him that Mr. Murphy will be okay, although my call to the hospital in the afternoon didn’t yield any promising updates, so I’m not certain how truthful my reassurance is.
He grunts at me and heads straight for the employees’ lounge. Honestly, his attitude is starting to grate on my nerves, but I tell myself he’s stressed and upset and everyone has bad days. Even so, I’m not sure what I did to get the brunt of his irritation.
When I head out into the parking lot, I forget about Nolan and his grumpiness, because Chris is standing near to his bike, waiting for me.
He looks stunningly handsome, his beard trimmed short, his hair not styled, but sticking up from his helmet, which he’s placed on the seat of the motorcycle. His expression slips into a smile as I approach and I see the heat in his eyes as he takes me in. Considering I’m wearing scrubs and he’s seen me in these a hundred times, I’m not sure why he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me. I don’t exactly look amazing in these things.
“Hey,” I say breathily as I approach.
“Hey,” he repeats and steps into my space. His hands slide around my neck and he guides my mouth to his.
Then he kisses me.
It’s a chaste kiss, one that holds a hint of promise about what is coming in the future if I play my cards right. I really hope I do, because I want more of what he’s offering. I need more. He’s got me hot under the collar and ready for whatever magic he chooses to wield on me. I want it all. I just want him.
I melt into him, and I feel loved as his arms wrap around me, so he can kiss my forehead.
“Did you have a good day?” he asks.
“It was okay. How about you?”
“I think Nova may have finally found a detailer for the shop.”
“Oh, that is good news.” I know the shop has been without one since Chris helped his last detailer escape an abusive relationship. I think she moved to Iowa where his brother lives…
“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I was having to turn down work because I sure as shit can’t do it. I’m better at the mechanical stuff.”
I love that he’s handy. I love everything about him, though. I always have. It was him who held back, and now I know why.
I roll to my toes and drop a kiss on his mouth. “Then that is good news.”
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.”
He gets on the b
ike, pulling his helmet on while I put mine on. Once he’s in place, I get on behind him. I’ve done this a few times now, but I still fumble a little as I settle myself.
Glancing behind him, Chris asks, “You set?”
I nod. “Absolutely.”
He hits the throttle and we take off. I cling tighter to his waist, burying my head in his back. This is fast becoming one of my favorite places to be.
It takes us far too short a time to reach the house, and I wish we could keep riding. I’m developing a taste for it. Chris also seems reluctant to dismount, but as soon as we’re both on solid ground, he takes my hand in his and I forget about the bike. My sole focus is on his touch.
By the time we get into the house, I’m nearly crawling the walls with the need to take him, but I refrain. Mostly, because I know Bekah hasn’t yet left for work and I don’t want to scare the heck out of her with a real public display of affection in the middle of the living room.
As it turns out, I don’t have to worry about my roommate. When we step into the living room, there’s a note on the coffee table, indicating she got called into work early. The dirty turn my thoughts take has heat pooling in my belly. We’ve been dancing around each other, mostly because I think Chris doesn’t want to feel like he’s taking advantage of me, but I’m happy to be taken advantage of by him. In fact, I’m more than happy. I want him in every way he’ll let me have him. He seems to be slowing things down.
For now, I’m content to leave things as they are. There’s no rush, other than my own desires to have him.
“Do you want a coffee?” I ask, moving into the kitchen.
“Yeah, that would be good. Thanks.”
I head to the machine and switch it on, adding the pods to the top and making sure the pot is in position. Then I move over to the counter opposite and see a little stack of mail. We always put new mail there for each other. I’m not sure when we started doing it, but it’s just habit now. While I wait for the machine to do its magic, Chris takes a seat at the breakfast bar and I flick through the mail. Most of it looks like bills. I’ll deal with those later, but there is one that does not look standard. My name is handwritten and I don’t recognize the writing either.