Chapter Twenty-Five
Lucy
This can’t be happening. I’m not seeing him standing on my doorstep. This isn’t real, it’s a dream, and any minute now, I am going to wake up in bed with Hunter. My eyes squeeze shut, and I silently pray that when I open them again he will be gone. I will them open and let out a squeak of a sob when I see Colton is still standing just a foot away. This isn’t a dream, it’s a nightmare, like the ones that plagued me after he died. Every night he would come to me in my dreams just like this. When I would go to hug him, he would fade away, and I would wake up heartbroken again.
“Lucy.” His deep voice sends a chill down my spine and my eyes slamming shut again. “Lucy, it’s me, Colton.” I shake my head at his words. No, it’s not him. This is all in my head. My eyes open again and he’s still there, looking back at me with those soulful blue eyes.
I stumble back, the broken glass cracks under my feet. “No, no, no, no.” The words ball up in the back of my throat. “You’re not real.” The tears stream down my face as I step further away from the door. “Wake up Lucy, please wake up.” No matter how hard I try to wake myself up its not working.
My legs hit the side of the chair in the living room. I lose my footing and collapse onto the chair with my face in my hands, sobbing uncontrollably. “Wake up, wake up,” I chant the words over and over. The air around me fills with a familiar warmth. Fingers wrap around my wrists and lower my hands away from my face. My eyes squeeze tighter.
“Lucy, open your eyes, please,” Colton softly pleads with me.
My eyes slowly flutter open and focus on his face. It’s Colton. My Colton. The laugh lines around his eyes are a little deeper, and there is a touch of gray in his hair. He’s older now, but he is still my Colton. Living, breathing, and sitting in my living room. “Colton.” His name feels foreign on my lips. I haven’t said his name out loud in so long.
“It’s me, Buttercup.” Hearing him call me Buttercup sends a knife straight through my heart. He called me that the first night we met. I was wearing a sun dress with yellow buttercups on it. I had barely taken my first drink of the night when he came over and asked me to dance. As we danced, he leaned into my ear and whispered, “My sweet buttercup.” It’s him, it’s really him.
He brings my hands up to his face. The stubble along his jaw tickles the palm of my hand. “How? How are you here?” My fingers rub along his warm skin. His eyes fall closed as he savors my touch.
“During all the chaos after my convoy was hit, my dog tags were mixed up with another soldier’s. When I woke up in the hospital, I couldn’t remember who I was. For the past ten years, I have been living as Sergeant Christian Ryan, in Charlotte, North Carolina.” He presses his cheek against my palm.
“Don’t they have protocols for situations like this? You know, to keep from ruining people’s lives.” I pull my hands away and climb out of the chair. The anger now taking over. “Didn’t they check names on uniforms or finger prints. How could something like this happen?” I pace back and forth in the span of the living room. My face growing hot with rage. For months I lost sleep, walked around like a zombie, and cried to the point of dehydration because my husband was dead. They told us he was gone and delivered his body home in a white box. We had a funeral and said our goodbyes. Years of living in a dark haze, not knowing if I was ever going to be able to dig myself out from that hell. All because of some asshole’s mistake.
“Believe me, I am just as enraged as you are. I lost ten years of life with you and Bailey. I missed out on everything.”
“My head is spinning.” I slump down on the couch. My mind can’t keep up with all the information. This still doesn’t seem real. Colton takes a seat on the coffee table in front of me. For years, I would have given anything to have him this close to me again, but now that he is here, I feel claustrophobic. I need some space to process all of this. “Colton, could you please give me a little space.”
There is disappointment in his eyes, but he gets up and moves around the table to one of the chairs on the other side. I know it’s killing him not to touch me again. In the past, there wasn’t a day that went by when he was home that he wasn’t touching me in some way. Whether it was hugs, kisses, or having me sit on his lap while we watched movies, he was always close. It was something I grew to crave, and it made me feel safe. When he deployed it would take weeks before I could fall asleep without him. I would cover his pillows with his shirts just to at least have his scent around me. After they told me Colton was gone, it took a good year before I could go a day without feeling lost without his touch. Eventually I forgot what his touch felt like. Having him in the same space again feels so foreign and strange.
I sit staring at him for what seems like hours, trying to remember the man I fell in love with. Is he still there in this man that is sitting across from me? What does this all mean for me and Hunter? Colton’s alive, and technically he is still my husband. The big question is, do I even still love Colton the way I did when we were together.
“Lucy, please say something.” Colton breaks the silence first.
“Colton, I am barely hanging on here. My head is spinning so fast I can’t grasp the words. My husband came back from the dead, were you expecting me to just welcome you home with open arms and act like nothing happened. What were you expecting Colton?”
“All I was expecting was a chance to be in Bailey’s life and in yours. I know we can’t go back to being what we were before, but I just want a chance to here for the two of you again.” He runs his hands over his face. He looks exhausted and drained. I can’t imagine what he has been going through. I know all he wants is for me to open my arms and tell him everything will be okay and that we will be okay, but I don’t even believe that is possible or will ever be possible.
“I can’t make any promises right now, Colton. I still need time to process all of this. There are people in my life now that I have to think about, and I have to find a way to tell Bailey her father is alive. I don’t know what to do right now.” Just an hour ago I was ready to have babies with Hunter. A single knock on the door has blown that dream up.
“Holy shit.” My head whips around to the sound of Brooke’s shocked voice. She is standing frozen in the doorway with Hank behind her.
“Wow, it is true,” Hank says, as he steps around Brooke. “I’ve been trying to call you all morning Lucy. When Joan couldn’t get a hold of you, she called me and told me Colton was on his way here. I thought she was bullshitting me. I can see now that she wasn’t.” Hank just stands there wide-eyed and mouth gaping open. I was so distracted by Hunter this morning, I haven’t checked my phone. I always check my phone on my mornings off, incase Connie has an emergency. The one time I needed to check my phone is the one morning I don’t.
I get up from the couch and walk over to Hank and Brooke. “He is actually here, and it’s abundantly clear this is not a dream. I’m freaking out, and I need to get out of here before I lose it. Hank, can you take Colton to your place, I need him to not be here while I have my freak out.” Hank nods yes and looks at me with a knowing eye.
Hank and Lucky were my saving grace when Colton died. They took turns making sure I got out of bed, showered, ate, and took care of my kid. They helped me and Bailey move back to Seattle, and Hank gave me the money to open my first coffee shop. I don’t know where I would be today without them. So, Hank knows that I need this moment to breakdown.
I turn my attention to Brooke and say, “Brooke, I need you to call Lucky and get her over here. And I need you to hold me up right now, because I’m losing it.” All the emotions that have been running through me since I saw Colton at my doorstep are bubbling up, ready to explode into a mess on the floor. Brooke envelops me in her arms. Her strength is what I need to keep myself together.
“Colton, I’m sorry but I need you to leave right now.” My voice cracks under the weight of my sadness.
I can see the tears welling up in his eyes as he gets up and walks over to the door. He stops in front of me. My body shakes in Brooke’s arms when he looks down at me. “I’m the one that is sorry, Lucy. I should have stayed away.” He hands me a slip of paper. “I’ll be in town for a few days if you want to talk. I’m so sorry,” he says again before turning to leave with Hank.
I hear Hank whisper to Brooke to call him and let him know how I am doing. As soon as the door closes, I collapse to the floor in a flood of tears.