Chapter Twelve
Abby
While Hunter took a shower to warm up, I called my boss and told him I wouldn’t be able to make it into the library. I’d taken some time off during my chemotherapy treatment so I was hesitant to take any unnecessary time off. He told me not to worry about it. Everyone else in Creede was in the same position. We were all snowed in either until the snow melted or until the snow plows could work their magic and clear most of it off the roads.
Guilt ate at me as I sat at the kitchen counter and drank my coffee. The look on Hunter’s face as I opened the door to him had been enough to make a lump rise in my throat. I didn’t want to hurt him, that had never been my intention, but wasn’t it better to end things now, before either of us got too attached? Or before he found out about my inability to have children and grew to resent me from depriving him of something he so obviously wanted.
I had Hunter’s pants in the dryer, but I didn’t have anything that he could change into as none of my clothes would have fit him. So when he came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, I’d expected it but didn’t know where to look. I averted my gaze. Things were awkward enough between us already, without this.
“I was just about to make some breakfast,” I told him. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded. “Yeah, ravenous, actually.”
“Take a seat,” I said. “I’ll see what I’ve got here to rustle up.”
“Thank you.”
I went to the refrigerator and scoured the contents all the while thinking how annoying it was that we were being so damn polite to one another—especially after what had happened between us the night before.
“There isn’t much,” I said. “How about some eggs and some toast. I have some fruit salad, too.”
Hunter grinned. “The eggs and toast will be great, thanks.”
“Okay.”
It didn’t take me very long to fix breakfast, which was a blessing because neither of us spoke during the time it took and the silence was far from comfortable. I buttered two slices of toast each then heaped up the eggs on top which was the way my mom always made it. When the food was ready, I slid one plate along the counter to where Hunter was seated.
“Thanks,” he said. “This looks great.”
“You’re welcome.”
After I’d handed him silverware, I sat down opposite him and dug in.
“Mmm, tastes as good as it looks,” he said.
I lifted my head and for the first time met his gaze. “I’m glad you like it.”
Then my gaze slid down to his chest and could do nothing to prevent my gasp.
Hunter caught my gaze and held it, almost defiantly, as if daring me to pass judgment. Which was something I would have never done.
“Your chest,” I whispered, feeling the sting of tears behind my eyes.
My fingers itched to reach out and touch him, but I stabbed another piece of egg onto my fork to keep my hand busy. I don’t think he would have appreciated me putting my hand on him right then.
Practically every visible inch of Hunter’s chest was covered in scar tissue and it occurred to me that it was the cause of the incredibly smooth skin I’d felt when I’d touched his chest the night before.
Hunter glanced down at himself and shrugged. “Been there so long I barely notice it anymore.”
How was that possible? You couldn’t fail to notice it.
“Can I…” I pulled in a deep breath then tried again. “Can I ask you what happened?”
“I got burned,” he said. “In a fire.”
“A fire,” I repeated, horrified. “God, that must have been excruciating.”
And at that moment, something else occurred to me. The night before when he woke up screaming, his entire body had been writhing.
As if it was covered in flames.
“It was excruciating.”
I could do nothing to prevent the tear that slid down my cheek. It was quickly followed by another.
He sighed. “Look, Abby, I don’t need your sympathy, okay? This happened a long time ago. I’m over it.”
“The screaming last night said otherwise.”
He glared at me. “Who the hell do you think you are? I might not be manly enough for you and yeah, okay, I’ve got some issues, but…”
“Not manly enough?” I repeated. “Where the hell did you get that idea from?”
“Because I was screaming like a bitch,” he said. “I mean that’s what you think, isn’t it? That’s what turned you off me. That’s why you damn near flinched when I touched you this morning.”
“I didn’t flinch!” I corrected.
“No, you froze, because you couldn’t stand my hands on you.”
“That wasn’t it at all!” I shouted, angry now.
“Bullshit!”
“It isn’t anything to do with you,” I said. “It’s me.”
He snorted.
That time I did flinch. “That came out wrong. I mean, it is me, but that wasn’t…”
“Jesus Christ,” he said, throwing his fork down on his plate. “Will you listen to yourself? Can you just be honest for one Goddamn minute?”
“You want honesty, I’ll give you honesty!” I countered. “Me freezing this morning had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I was protecting myself, okay? I wanted to end things with you before you broke it off with me. Which you would have eventually—when you found out.”
He stared at me as if I’d grown another head. “Found out what?”
“That I’m nothing but a husk!” I shouted. “A barren, empty husk!”
When his brow creased together and it was obvious that he still didn’t understand, I had to spell it out to him.
“I’m infertile,” I said. “The cancer ate away at my womb so they took it out. Get it now? I can’t have children!”
He blinked and his mouth hung open in surprise. He stared at me for a long moment then did the last thing I had expected. He threw his head back and laughed.
I was so incensed that he could be so heartless and would laugh at me for that even after he swore he never would that I picked up my plate and threw it at him, contents and all. He tried to duck out of the way, but the plate caught him on the chest then fell to the floor and smashed.
I got out of my seat and lunged at him. “I hate you!” I roared. “I hate you!”
I had never in my life been so angry or displayed such outward emotion and violence. I’d always been of the mind that there was never a good enough cause for it. But all the anger that I had repressed since I’d found out I had cancer came pouring out of me and was focused directly at him.
He grabbed hold of my arms and shook me, holding me at arms’ length. “Don’t you get it?” he asked, shaking me again in an effort to get me to calm down. “I can’t either!”
He was still grinning and the expression infuriated me. So much so, I didn’t register what he’d said. I fought to get free. I wanted nothing more than to wipe that sick grin off his face.
“Did you hear me?” he said, shaking me once more. “Do you understand? I’m laughing because I’m relieved. You see, I had exactly the same fear that you had because I can’t have children either!”
I stopped fighting him and stared into his eyes, trying to see the subterfuge hiding in their depths.
I couldn’t find any.
“You…You can’t…?”
“I can’t have children, no. The fire…the damage to my body after the bomb exploded and some of the ceiling collapsed on me. It damaged me. Irreparably.”
I gasped. “The bomb?”
He nodded. “When I was deployed in Afghanistan.”
I shook my head. “This is all too much to take in.”
His expression softened and it pulled at my heartstrings and made tears well in my eyes.
“Why don’t you sit down for a minute?” he suggested.
My legs shook as I walked to my seat and sat down heavily in it. My mind was working at a hundred miles an hour trying to process everything I’d just learned. But the one underlying fact that was screaming at me was that I had got it all wrong. Hunter would never leave me for someone who could give him children if he wasn’t able to have any himself.
My fears had been unfounded.
Which meant that there might be a small chance that Hunter and I could have a future together, after all.
That was, if I hadn’t gone and spoiled everything by acting like such a psycho.
Could I really dare to hope?