Chapter 26

Evelyn

The engine purrs as it slides out of the driveway. Shawn's hands grip the steering wheel, as he turns the car slightly before we go off down the road. His brow furrows as if he is deep in thought. I can't help but remember that it’s this fierce concentration that made me love him in the first place.

His thick facial hair has been trimmed slightly, revealing the shape of his jaw. Shawn will never remove his beard, it’s as much a part of his identity as his name.

It's funny how the subtlest parts of someone's features can become the very thing that we grow to love about that person. I reach my hand out, allowing my fingers to graze his cheek. Shawn's lip quivers slightly, curving into a half-smile.

It's the same expression Tanner wears, when he's gotten up to mischief. There is no doubt that he is the spitting image of his father. Tonight, Tanner is at the baby sitter’s, who will most likely let him eat all the junk he wants and stay up late.

"Every kid’s dream." I think, with a smile.

At that moment, I feel my phone vibrate in my lap. I look down, realizing that I've just gotten a text. Even without opening my phone, I know it could only be from one person - James.

I click to open the home screen and scroll down to my messages.

See you there...James

The message is short and to the point.

"Is that James?" Shawn asks, mirroring my thoughts.

"Yes," I reply.

"Probably wants to confirm that we are actually going to show up," Shawn says.

"Something like that," I reply.

We’re on our way to meet him for dinner. After James virtually disappeared from the face of the earth, he texted me last night, with what seemed to be a heartfelt apology and an invitation for Shawn and me to meet him for dinner.

The whole idea of being in the room with both James and Shawn seems a bit unsettling and I'm not sure what to make of it. After all, he and Shawn did try to kill each other last time.

"You think he's gotten over it?" I ask.

"I don't know. You might have been his conquest, but I've been friends with the guy for years. He’s hurt. He might forgive, but I wonder if he’ll forget." Shawn says.

"One of the many reasons why this dinner feels like a bad idea," I reply.

"I have my reservations, though I think we need to give him a chance." His voice trails off.

"But?" I question, pressing him to continue.

"But then I don’t really remember what he’s like. All I’ve got to go on is what you’ve told me. And there’s no denying he was there for you during my absence."

He's right. James had supported me while Shawn was missing in action.

I will never love anyone the way I love Shawn, but that doesn’t change the fact I don’t like letting people down, which, part of me feels like I’ve done to James.

"I guess I'm still confused," I say, at last, giving voice to the barrage of thoughts that are circulating in my head.

"That’s perfectly normal, babe. It’s a lot to take in. Finding out your husband who’s presumed dead’s still alive. Trouble is he can’t recall most of his life anymore. Breaking off a wedding you planned. It’s a lot. It’s more than most people have to deal with in their entire lifetime."

I smile.

We come to a traffic light and Shawn reaches out to stroke my hand. His hand is firm yet warm. I feel the restless beating of my heart steady into a calm lull. Shawn has always had this effect on me. No matter what I am going through, his touch has the ability to take away every bit of anxiety from me.

I will admit that after the night he attacked me in his sleep, I felt a tiny bit on edge with him. It's not easy to have someone that you love, threaten you. But I also knew deep down that Shawn's actions were unintentional. There was no way he wanted to hurt me.

And since that night, things have been getting better and better.

Even the scars on his skin have begun to heal. Okay so I maybe imagining this, but they seem to be fading.

"Have you noticed how your scars are fading?" I say, to change the subject.

I watch Shawn's jaw tighten. He doesn't want to talk about this, but if we don't, then I can't help him.

"I'm still damaged." He replies finally.

"What do you mean? You're starting to look more like yourself. Not to mention your nightmares are decreasing, too." I say.

"I'm not talking about those scars," he says.

I don't know what to say in response.

"Everyone talks about the physical damage the war can have on a person. Loss of blood…damaged limbs…death…These are the things that we fear the most, but even if my body heals, there is a part of me that will never lose the memory of what I experienced."

"I know," I say.

He shakes his head.

"You think you know, but you don't."

"Help me to understand," I prompt. Since his return, I’ve looked into PTSD. The biggest thing that can help seems to be talking about it.

"The dreams," he starts.

"You've been having less of them." I finish.

"It's true, they're not as frequent, but they still come every now and again," he says.

"What do you see?" I ask.

Again, this is what I’ve read. Get them to talk about their dreams and fears, without judging.

Shawn takes a deep breath. His hands tremble slightly as if even now he is seeing the image directly in front of him. There are moments when he will go blank and I will not be able to reach him, try as I might. Still, I do my best to bring him back to me.

"Shawn?" I say, touching his arm. I watch his muscles relax. He looks at me as if just remembering that I am with him.

“We’re fighting in this old building. It’s fucking awful. For days we’ve been stuck in the heat. Bullets are whizzing past. There’s an almighty explosion. The ground shakes beneath and bricks tumble down around us.”

There’s a moment of silence as he collects himself. His knuckles are white as his hands grip the steering wheel ever so tightly.

“Anyway,” he continues. “I don’t know what’s happened to the rest of the team, or James. What I do know is I’m trapped. Before I can free myself, a face appears. It’s familiar, and yet, I can’t quite see who it is. Before I get a closer look, something hard hits me in the side of the face and the world goes black.”

I say nothing and wait.

“It’s so fucking frustrating not knowing who it is that hit me over the head.”

He goes silent again and I feel him retreat to a place I still can’t follow.

The truth sits between us like a bridge and for the first time, I recognize how easy it is to be so close to someone, and yet remain a million miles apart.

I lean over to kiss his cheek.

“We’ll get there, together. One step at a time.”

Shawn glances at me.

“I have to be the luckiest man alive,” he murmurs and takes his hand off the steering wheel to stroke my cheek.

“And don’t you forget it.” I reach over to rest my hand on his thigh. “But first thing’s first. Let’s get this dinner with James out of the way.”