Closer to the Edge
Page 13
A stab of guilt rushes through me when I think about all of the strings Garrett pulled to get me this job. He’ll understand. He has to understand. Garrett was there during my darkest hours. He knows firsthand the pain I went through after Cole left and there’s no way he’d want me anywhere near him knowing how hard I’ve fought to forget.
I feel the depression and grief that usually accompany thoughts of Cole wrapping around my heart and squeezing the fight out of me. I know I can’t go back to that, my sanity won’t allow it, so I push the darkness and sorrow aside and allow my anger to take over instead. I allow myself a moment with my memories—the ones that consumed my life for so many months, leaving me a broken mess—before I channel all of that emotion into rage towards the man who caused every bit of my heartache. The man who sits on the floor of his bedroom, still calling out to me.
Lifting my chin, I turn and march back into the house and down the hall. He’s still propped up against the bed, exactly where I left him. I refuse to look at his face as I step over the spilled donuts and my bag of medical supplies.
“You came back,” he whispers as I crouch down by his side.
Wordlessly, I grab onto his arm, throwing it over my shoulder and wrapping my own arm around his waist as I attempt to ignore the heat of his skin through his shirt.
After a brief struggle, I manage to help him stand. As I step away from him and move towards his crutches, both of his arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me against him.
For just a moment, I’m thrown back in time and I can almost pretend like he was never gone. I can almost imagine that he was here this entire time and the past year never happened. The strong arms that always made me feel safe band around me and the solid wall of his chest is close enough for me to rest my cheek against like I used to do. It would be so easy to lean into him and let him hold me, let him take away the pain.
“Jesus Christ. I forgot how beautiful you are.”
His softly muttered words bring me right back to the present. He’s not the man I used to know. He’s not the man who will take away all of my fears and love me unconditionally. He forgot about me, but I never forgot about him.
I have got to get the fuck out of here.
Clenching my teeth, I angrily yank my body out of his hold and take a few steps back. My sudden movement causes him to lose his balance and he teeters for a second on his good leg before quickly wrapping a hand around one of his bedposts.
“Liv—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off with a growl.
It’s hard enough being in the same room with him. I can’t handle hearing him use my nickname, the one he used to whisper in my ear so reverently when he pushed inside of me; the one he would chuckle when I said something funny.
“I know you’re angry,” he starts.
I laugh in his face. I know I sound like a crazy lunatic and I don’t care. I feel like a damn crazy lunatic. My emotions are all over the place and I don’t know what to do with them.
“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” I tell him with a shake of my head as I turn away from him and grab his crutches.
I thrust them into his hands and ignore the way he’s staring at me, like he’s trying to see right through me, like my face will give him all of the answers he seeks.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he tells me, pushing the crutches under his arms and moving closer to me.
“Well, I didn’t want to see you at all. I guess we don’t always get what we want,” I remind him.
He curses when I move out of his reach again and begin picking up the mess by the door, shoving my supplies haphazardly into my bag and the donuts back into the box.
I hear the thump of the crutches on the floor as he moves behind me. “Please, just let me explain.”
Cleaning up the last of the mess, I stand and whirl around to face him. “You don’t need to explain anything. Your actions a year ago spoke volumes. I didn’t come back in this room because I need anything from you; I came back in here because it’s my job. Now that you’re back on your feet, I’m leaving. I’ll have the agency send someone new.”
I can’t be in this room with him any longer. Just being this close to him, I can already feel my anger slipping away. He was always such a strong, proud man. Seeing him injured and needing help tugs at heartstrings I didn’t think existed inside of me anymore.
“Please, love. I just got you back, don’t go.”
The anger bubbles right back up to the surface. “Don’t you dare call me love. I am not your love. I stopped being that to you the day you walked away. You don’t get to stand there and pretend like everything can be erased with a few endearments and shitty excuses.”
He curses again, throws his head back and roars towards the ceiling. “Goddammit! I’m trying here, Liv. There’s so much I want to say and I’m not doing a good job of it. I’m fucking everything up.”
I laugh cynically and shake my head at him. “You fucked everything up a long time ago. I don’t want anything from you. I came back in here because you needed help and I felt sorry for you.”
My words have the desired effect and I watch the pleading look on his face quickly disappear. There’s nothing worse than telling a Navy SEAL that you think he’s weak and pathetic. Gone is the man who, moments ago, would have done anything to get me to listen to his explanations. Gone is the softness and vulnerability that clouded his features. In its place is a stony mask of coldness and indifference.
I feel the depression and grief that usually accompany thoughts of Cole wrapping around my heart and squeezing the fight out of me. I know I can’t go back to that, my sanity won’t allow it, so I push the darkness and sorrow aside and allow my anger to take over instead. I allow myself a moment with my memories—the ones that consumed my life for so many months, leaving me a broken mess—before I channel all of that emotion into rage towards the man who caused every bit of my heartache. The man who sits on the floor of his bedroom, still calling out to me.
Lifting my chin, I turn and march back into the house and down the hall. He’s still propped up against the bed, exactly where I left him. I refuse to look at his face as I step over the spilled donuts and my bag of medical supplies.
“You came back,” he whispers as I crouch down by his side.
Wordlessly, I grab onto his arm, throwing it over my shoulder and wrapping my own arm around his waist as I attempt to ignore the heat of his skin through his shirt.
After a brief struggle, I manage to help him stand. As I step away from him and move towards his crutches, both of his arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me against him.
For just a moment, I’m thrown back in time and I can almost pretend like he was never gone. I can almost imagine that he was here this entire time and the past year never happened. The strong arms that always made me feel safe band around me and the solid wall of his chest is close enough for me to rest my cheek against like I used to do. It would be so easy to lean into him and let him hold me, let him take away the pain.
“Jesus Christ. I forgot how beautiful you are.”
His softly muttered words bring me right back to the present. He’s not the man I used to know. He’s not the man who will take away all of my fears and love me unconditionally. He forgot about me, but I never forgot about him.
I have got to get the fuck out of here.
Clenching my teeth, I angrily yank my body out of his hold and take a few steps back. My sudden movement causes him to lose his balance and he teeters for a second on his good leg before quickly wrapping a hand around one of his bedposts.
“Liv—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off with a growl.
It’s hard enough being in the same room with him. I can’t handle hearing him use my nickname, the one he used to whisper in my ear so reverently when he pushed inside of me; the one he would chuckle when I said something funny.
“I know you’re angry,” he starts.
I laugh in his face. I know I sound like a crazy lunatic and I don’t care. I feel like a damn crazy lunatic. My emotions are all over the place and I don’t know what to do with them.
“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” I tell him with a shake of my head as I turn away from him and grab his crutches.
I thrust them into his hands and ignore the way he’s staring at me, like he’s trying to see right through me, like my face will give him all of the answers he seeks.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he tells me, pushing the crutches under his arms and moving closer to me.
“Well, I didn’t want to see you at all. I guess we don’t always get what we want,” I remind him.
He curses when I move out of his reach again and begin picking up the mess by the door, shoving my supplies haphazardly into my bag and the donuts back into the box.
I hear the thump of the crutches on the floor as he moves behind me. “Please, just let me explain.”
Cleaning up the last of the mess, I stand and whirl around to face him. “You don’t need to explain anything. Your actions a year ago spoke volumes. I didn’t come back in this room because I need anything from you; I came back in here because it’s my job. Now that you’re back on your feet, I’m leaving. I’ll have the agency send someone new.”
I can’t be in this room with him any longer. Just being this close to him, I can already feel my anger slipping away. He was always such a strong, proud man. Seeing him injured and needing help tugs at heartstrings I didn’t think existed inside of me anymore.
“Please, love. I just got you back, don’t go.”
The anger bubbles right back up to the surface. “Don’t you dare call me love. I am not your love. I stopped being that to you the day you walked away. You don’t get to stand there and pretend like everything can be erased with a few endearments and shitty excuses.”
He curses again, throws his head back and roars towards the ceiling. “Goddammit! I’m trying here, Liv. There’s so much I want to say and I’m not doing a good job of it. I’m fucking everything up.”
I laugh cynically and shake my head at him. “You fucked everything up a long time ago. I don’t want anything from you. I came back in here because you needed help and I felt sorry for you.”
My words have the desired effect and I watch the pleading look on his face quickly disappear. There’s nothing worse than telling a Navy SEAL that you think he’s weak and pathetic. Gone is the man who, moments ago, would have done anything to get me to listen to his explanations. Gone is the softness and vulnerability that clouded his features. In its place is a stony mask of coldness and indifference.
