Maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn’t my fault. The kidnapping, the brutality.
But it was my fault if I harmed more people than needed to be harmed.
People being Heath.
“I’m not the same girl as I was when I was eighteen,” I said, deciding to go for a different tactic. “Not even the woman I was eight weeks ago. This is not the story where there’s the happy ever after. This is what happens after the damsel is saved,” I whispered. “They never show you that because that would ruin it all. Wreck it all. Because the damsel isn’t really saved in the end. Not this one at least.”
“I’m not tryin’ to save you, Sunshine,” he said, taking me into his arms as if he was. “Just lookin’ for you.”
“Are you really looking for me, Heath?” I asked, grasping at emotional straws. “Second chance romances don’t work. Or in our case, third chance,” I said. “Of course in movies and books they do because they’re written by some heartbroken artist who is hoping to create their future, that impossible happy ending. And because most of us are lost, heartbroken souls, we rework those stories to fit our situation. Which isn’t hard, because heartbreak is always the same. And we always want the same thing, either for it to stop hurting so much, or it to hurt more when the person comes back. So we watch those movies. Read those books. Imagine, pray that those stories will come to life. It’s nice.”
I smiled.
“Really nice to do when things are dark and ugly in the present and you can find some solace in the marriage of an embellished past and am impossible future.”
My smile failed as I focused on him.
“It’s lovely and nice, but it doesn’t work. Not when years have passed, and the world has changed around us, and we haven’t.” I paused. “Changed, that is.”
I roved my eyes over the outside changes that had nothing on the inside changes.
“Life is still the same, but it’s intrinsically different. That feeling, that...” I trailed off in order to find the courage. I met his eyes. “That love survived the years, but only because it’s attached to a memory, it will not survive when we try to attach it to what we are now.”
What I am now, was what I didn’t say. What I couldn’t. I didn’t need to anyway. It was the elephant in the room, pressing on my lungs. On my heart.
He was silent for a long time. It was something I was getting used to, but it still made me uncomfortable, a person who always reacted, spoke, laughed, cried, jumped immediately, on initial reaction, on instinct.
Heath worked on instinct too. But it was a warrior’s instinct. Analyzing all the options, all possible threats, all ways to attack, to defend, to survive. I wondered if it was a throwaway from the war. But I thought about the war as something that required action without thought. Wasn’t that the whole point of basic training? To drum out those pesky unpredictable personality traits in order to promote the appropriate split second predictable responses in a soldier.
I found another yawning gap in my knowledge of the person who had consumed my mind and heart for so long. I did not know what lurked in those pockets of silence. When he just stared, silent, intense. Was something yanking at him? Something from before? Something horrible I couldn’t fathom? Couldn’t imagine, let alone live through?
I found myself utterly desperate to pry open his brain and dive into that darkness I knew I couldn’t handle. That I knew would wreck me. For the simple fact it might close that gap between us. I wanted to live his horror so I could find a way to give him peace.
But there was no way to pry open a human being’s memories without doing damage to them. And I would not do any more damage to Heath. Not even for my own peace.
Especially not for my own.
Heath yanked me closer to him, brows furrowed slightly as if he could read my thoughts the way I wished I could read his.
His hands fastened on either side of my neck. “I don’t know about all of that, baby,” he murmured. “Know my love for you has survived a lot and it sure as shit hasn’t made it through everything just to die when I’ve finally brought it to life.” His eyes searched mine. “But even if you are right, I’ll fall in love with you all over again. I’ll learn about what’s changed in you, I’ll make sure there’s never a moment when you don’t remember that the past is nothing but the past and our future is together.”
I blinked. “You love me?”
He blinked back. “Come on, babe. Everything we’ve been through, everything you see in me? You can’t see that?” In the midst of this moment, Heath’s voice held a hint of teasing.
“We’ve never said it to each other,” I whispered.
He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, we have.”
And I knew what he meant. That every look, every fight, every moment from the night in the bar was saturated with it. It didn’t make sense. To love someone after a collection of chaotic moments.
But with me, wasn’t my life just a series of chaotic moments?
But wasn’t love supposed to bring you peace?
“Love doesn’t have to be peaceful to bring you peace,” he murmured, showing me I’d said that last thought aloud.
Heath laid his lips gently to mine.
And I wasn’t overcome with fear, panic, and revulsion. All that was there, of course, but not as overwhelming as before.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sunshine,” he promised. “’Cause I’m looking for peace in your chaos too.”
Chapter Eighteen
I came out of my room and was no longer surprised to see Lucy and Keltan standing there bickering over the harm it would do Lucy to have one sip of coffee.
“Not happenin’,” Keltan said, folding his arms.
And of course, he thought the subject was closed, because these males—still after being married to women like Lucy and Rosie—thought that a firm tone and a crossing of muscled arms somehow cemented a decision.
“Fine,” Lucy said, and I blinked in surprise.
Maybe pregnancy had finally mellowed her.
And we had approximately six weeks to enjoy that mellowness.
“I’ll just have a glass of wine at dinner.” She folded her own arms, albeit awkwardly since her protruding belly was in the way.
Or maybe she wasn’t mellow. Like at all.
“How in the fuck do you go from thinking one sip of coffee won’t hurt the baby to one glass of wine?” he demanded.
“Well, the baby’s already grown, so I’m sure it’s fine anyway. It’s really just...marinating. But you will get hurt if you keep this up, buddy.”
I could’ve watched this forever. It made me warm in places that were now almost always cold. Reminded me of the reasons not to let it win. The darkness. Because of my sister. Because of her happiness. And that little baby.
I wanted to watch it forever and warm myself up in front of their lives and pretend for as long as I could that my coldness wouldn’t come back as soon as I stopped watching.
But I couldn’t pretend around someone like Keltan.
“Polly,” he said, yanking Lucy to his side and kissing the top of her head. His palm settled protectively over her belly.