Chapter 25
Hayden
“Sometimes getting’ off on the wrong foot ends in a broken leg.”
~ Nora O’Sullivan
“So let me get this straight,” Jade said as she straightened her shoulders and stiffened her posture.
Shit.
I’d rehearsed this so many times in my head, I wasn’t sure what had gotten lost in translation. But she was not happy and I wanted to kick my own ass for not just letting this be a good night.
Why in the hell had I stopped the romantic direction the night was headed and derailed it by insisting that we talk?
Clearing the air was a shitty idea. I should’ve just kept doing the things that kept that smile on her face and let the talk happen naturally. Forcing us to face our past was blowing up in my face. I’d just wanted to get everything out in the open.
She took a deep breath, the kind she took when she was trying not to lose her temper. I braced myself.
“You were scared.”
That was what she pulled out of everything I’d just said. “Yes, well that was part of it, but also—”
“No,” she cut me off. “You said that all these years you’d told yourself that you were doing what you thought was best for us. For me. But then, when you were talking to your therapist you realized that really you’d just been scared.”
“Yes. I was scared.”
“You poor thing. Bless your heart.” Her tone dripped with condescension before it turned lethal. “How do you think I felt? You don’t think I was terrified? I lost a baby. Our baby. And you left.”
“I know.”
“Without even discussing it with me. You left!” Her voice was getting louder with each word she spoke. “You didn’t talk to me about it first. There was no discussion.”
“You knew that I was planning on joining. My dad was a ranger and everyone knew I want—”
“Don’t. You just admitted that you were scared and you were running away. So don’t hide behind that I-always-wanted-to-be-a-Ranger-like-my-dad bullshit.”
Shit. Why was I blowing this so badly?
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you. I should’ve told you how I was feeling. I should’ve let you know what I was going to do. And I did try, Jade. I tried to talk to you but anytime I brought up anything about the baby, about our future, you said you didn’t want to talk about it. You changed the subject.”
I could see that Jade knew that what I was saying was true, but she didn’t want to admit it. She shook her head and was silent for several minutes.
When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. Contained. Controlled. “I made you cinnamon rolls for your birthday, did you know that?”
“No.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You want to know why? Because when I snuck into your room to surprise you with them, you were gone. Your bed was made.”
The recruitment office was in Dallas, so I’d gotten up early that morning to beat the traffic. I didn’t think that was something I should point out now.
“I went to school that day not having any idea where you were or what was going on. No one knew where you were. Then you show up late that night and tell me that you’re leaving for basic soon and that we should breakup.”
“I was stupid. I’m sorry.”
“You were selfish and a coward. I’m not talking about you being scared, it’s fine if you were scared. I was scared. I’m talking about you leaving. You ran away and left me here!”
“I know. As soon as I got to basic I regretted that I’d left you like that. I tried to explain. I tried to apologize. I told you that you deserved better. I told you all that and more in the letters I wrote but you never wrote me back.”
“You’re right. I never wrote you back. Because I never read your letters.”
I blinked, thinking that I must’ve heard her wrong. “You never read them?”
“No. Why would I? Nothing you had to say would’ve changed that you left and I had nothing else to say to you. I said everything I needed to say before you left.”
“Are you talking about the night before I left?” It was still one of the worst nights of my life. Just thinking about it now made me sick to my stomach.
“Yep.” Her head dipped in a jerking nod.
The walls that had been crumbling were back up and they were reinforced with titanium steel.
“You said everything you needed to say?” I asked.
The cold look in her eyes gave me my answer before she even said it out loud. “Yes.”
“You told me you hated me and that you never wanted to talk to me again. You told me that I was dead to you.”
“I remember.” Her stare was stone cold. “I was there.”
She was getting more and more defensive and that was not the way I wanted this talk to go down. I wanted to get this back on track so that it didn’t lead to us not speaking for another fourteen years.
“Look, I’m trying here, Jade. I love you. I never stopped loving you. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so bad I’ll understand if you really don’t want anything to do with me. And if that’s what you really want, I’ll have no choice but to respect it. I’ll leave you alone. But I don’t think that’s what you want. I think you love me, too.”
“You think I love you, too,” she repeated in a quiet voice as tears pooled in her eyes.
She looked away from me, out toward the river and I watched as several drops fell over her bottom lids and slid down her cheeks. She made no attempts to wipe them away. Her arms hung loosely at her side. When she looked back at me, the resigned pain in her expression kneed me right in the balls.
“Do you have any idea what it was like for me when you left? Do you have any clue how hard that was for me? I didn’t just miss you. I ached for you. My body felt like it was in physical pain.” A sad smile turned up on her lips and tears continued falling as she spoke between shaky breaths. “It came in waves and sometimes…sometimes…I felt like I was drowning. And there was no one I could tell about it. Bella was gone, but even if she were here it’s not like she knew anything about us. I couldn’t talk to my brother or to my parents. I miscarried our baby and then you left. I was alone. You weren’t there. I was all alone.” Her head was shaking back and forth. “I wanted to believe that this could work, but I’m not sure. I’m not sure if I could ever really trust you again. I need to think about some things.”
She started to stand and I rose to my knees and reached out to help her.
“Don’t.” She pulled away from me.
“Let me at least take you home. You don’t have to talk to me, but let me take you home.”
“No. I’m walking. Alone.” And with that, she turned on her heels and walked away from me.
I watched her go and every cell in my body was screaming to go after her. To make her see, somehow, that I would never abandon her again. That I would never let her be alone again. But she wanted space, and I had to respect that.
Slumping back against my heels, I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. In the Army we had a saying. Prior planning prevents poor performance. I’d thought I was prepared, but obviously I wasn’t. We had another saying, too. FUBAR. It stood for fucked up beyond all repair. I hoped that’s not what we were.
But I had a feeling we just might be.