Chapter Sixty

Katy

I wake up alone in his bed, inhaling the scent of him as impending dread courses through me.

I don’t want to leave.

That thought has me scrambling for any excuse I can find to stay; but the truth is, I never should have come to him in the first place. I’ll take all the blame; every bit of this is on me.

This day is not going to be good.

Chris’s absence is terrifying. I can feel the panic seeping into me with every minute of silence in the deserted ranch home. It’s sparsely furnished and in need of a lot of elbow grease, but it’s home for him, and he’s happy here.

I am happy here.

Finding them in a pile at the edge of the bed, I dress in the same ragged clothes I’ve been recycling for three days and wash my face in his sink in the adjoining bathroom. After running a fingerful of toothpaste in my mouth, I borrow his deodorant, again. His smell is so clean, it’s hard to place, but I know I won’t ever forget it.

I have no idea what my life is about to turn into, but if I had to guess, it feels a whole lot like I’m headed back to war.

Pulling my cell from my purse to check for any message from my mother, I see that the battery is dead. Panic rising, I use the house phone to place a call and am relieved when she answers within a few rings. Knowing my little man is on his way home curbs some of my apprehension.

Swallowing hard, I push all thoughts away of what I will face at home because right now, I miss the man whose house feels like a tomb without him. Briefly, I wonder if his Gran feels as lonely with him constantly gone, with only her memories to cling to. Then I picture myself in her shoes because I’m almost certain it’s my fate.

After throwing my purse in my Jeep, I find Chris in the barn, wrists taped, hanging his bag by the chain on a waiting hook. The faraway look in his eyes gives me pause.

“Morning,” I say, “or afternoon.”

He pauses, glancing my way before throwing his first punch.

“Morning.”

“Noah’s coming home today,” I offer nervously, worrying my fingers. “He’s been at Disney for a week.”

The excuse sounds ridiculous, even to me.

I cross the gap between us as he rips into the bag, his fists colliding with the tape.

“Chris, I don’t want to fight.”

“I won’t fight you,” he says easily.

“Okay,” I whisper softly as tears threaten. “I don’t want to leave, if that makes any difference.”

“Go,” he orders, in a tone I’ve never heard.

“Briggs—”

“Go to Noah. I’m not mad,” he says with a conviction that stings. “This was always going to happen.”

“Was it?” I ask, crossing my arms. “News to me.”

He tags the bag with angry fists in rapid succession, but it’s his icy demeanor that elevates the dread coursing through me.

Left. Right.

The snap of his fists has my hackles rising.

Left. Right. Left.

“He doesn’t want you anymore, so you came to me for what you needed.” His fist connects violently, making the bag jump on the chain. “Did you get it?” He doesn’t wait for me to speak; he just starts throwing harder. “Or was fucking me supposed to be enough to pacify me? I’m not supposed to want more, right? I’m not allowed to.”

“That’s not fair,” I gasp, eyes narrowed, and heart splintered. I don’t expect Gavin or really anyone else to understand this thing between us. Hell, I don’t understand it myself, but for Chris to demean what we shared…God damn, it hurts.

“Which part?” he asks, sweat trickling down his stony face as he pounds away. “The part where you used me or that I called you on it?”

He’s taking cheap shots, trying to push me away. Guilt and pain lodge in my throat. “Chris, I know it’s a foreign concept, but could you please put down your weapon and talk to me?”

“Katy, all this little rendezvous did is fuck us up more. Can’t you see that? For your sake and mine, just leave.”

“Just like that?” Maybe he’s right. Because I can tell he’s fighting like hell not to lash out. I get no satisfaction in the realization, he’s not unbreakable.

“So you’re done?”

“Are you?” he asks, eyeing me as he swipes a taped finger beneath his nose.

“Tell me what to say.”

“Nothing,” he says, throwing another punch. “How about fucking nothing. No words. Actions speak louder, right? Just fucking go!”

Tears spill as I watch anguish cross his features.

“Tell me,” I beg. “Tell me what to say.”

“I think I hate you a little,” he says with a sigh, “because at least before I didn’t know what the other side felt like. I had no fucking clue,” he chokes and hugs the bag as I take a step forward. “Get away from me, Katy!”

Jumping back, he corners me to the side of the barn. “You hadn’t been in my life, in my bed, and now you’re everywhere. This is our place now, isn’t it? You made sure of it.”

Speechless, I take his punishment, because I deserve it.

“So, thanks for stopping by,” he says with a sarcastic laugh, “good times, right?”

“I’m so—”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” He points an accusatory finger at me. “You knew exactly what would happen.”

“Tell me what to say,” I sob as he crouches down on his knees, trying to regain his composure.

“Say goodbye and mean it. I don’t want to see you again, Katy. I’m sorry, but it has to be this way. At least…” He shakes his head.

“At least, what?”

Cold eyes flit to mine. “At least in that bunker, I knew you were mine. I’m jealous, and I hate myself for it. I’ve fallen so far that there’s no going back, only forward. He gets you, and I get war.”

Crumbling where I stand, I know he’s breaking my heart because it’s his intention, not because I asked him to. This time it’s for real.

“Please tell me what to say.”

He rises to his feet with something that resembles hate in his eyes. “You really need me to give you the words? How about you state the fucking obvious, Scottie. Say you’re mine. Say this life with me is what you want.”

“I spent two blissful days with you. I’ve been married for six years! Stop making it seem so simple.”

“Then stop being so goddamn selfish and release me from this!”

“I don’t know how to do it for myself. And you’re one to talk.” I stab my finger in the direction of his motorcycle. “Is that not the bike that was in front of my house? We need each other,” I sob.

He shakes his head adamantly. “Not like this.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“You know,” he says sardonically, his eyes growing dark, “because of you I finally know what lonely feels like.”

I sniffle as his eyes trail over me with remorse. “FUCK!” His fist flies past my shoulder, hitting the particle board stacked behind me and I jump back with a scream. He tears at it, ripping up his fists as I stand back in horror. “Please, Chris, please stop!”

Mortified with the way I’ve hurt him, all I do is whisper apologies until he lowers his bleeding fists and his shoulders sag.

I take a step forward to examine them, and he steps back, turning a shoulder so I’m unable to touch him.

“Can’t you see, Katy? I’m still fucking fighting for you.” His voice falters as a tear slides down his cheek, tracing his jaw, before dripping to his chest. “Even when you’ve given me every reason not to.”

It’s that tear that does me in, and I give him the only truth I’m capable of. “I love you, Briggs, heart, and soul. But I can’t give you definitive answers because I don’t have them right now. I’m sorry it’s not enough, but this love we share is yours, and it’s only yours.”

“What does it matter?” he asks, his face revealing every ounce of defeat, “if he’s got you?”

I open my mouth to speak but can’t find words. I don’t say anything, because he’s right. It’s all or nothing, and I can’t give him all of me now—maybe not ever—and Christopher Paul Briggs deserves to be someone’s everything.

He brushes past me as I scream his name.

“Please! Please don’t walk away from me! Not like this, please, these can’t be the last words we say. If you’re done with me, be done with me, but don’t walk away.”

Stopping in his tracks, he stalks back toward me. “I’m not watching you do it again. I can survive being a soldier, I can survive another war, but it seems I can’t survive loving you. If I have to let you go, you have to let me go too.” He leans in on a whisper. “I love you, Katy, let me go.”