Safe with Me
Page 70
“Why?” I demand. “What is it about the three of us that’s so fucking scary to a Navy SEAL, Caleb?”
“I didn’t know how to handle the way I felt about you,” he begins and swallows. “How I feel.”
“And how is that?”
“I love you so much it hurts,” he responds immediately, his eyes holding mine.
I will not cry!
“So you think you can come waltzing back in here and profess your love for me and that makes it all better?”
He swears under his breath and shakes his head.
“I’m here to apologize, first and foremost. I had a long talk with the girls last night before you kicked me out of your room and before your dad took them home.”
“You did?” I ask, surprised, and worried that he’s got their hopes up again.
“I apologized to them, and hugged them, and we got some things worked out.”
“What, exactly, did you get worked out with two six-year-olds?” I ask with a laugh.
“I’ll get to that,” he responds with a grin, showing me his dimples, and I want to cave right then.
Those damn dimples get me every time.
I try to move in the sofa to find a comfortable position and cry out when I bump my shoulder.
“Hey, easy,” he croons and helps me rearrange the pillows behind me. “Easy, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby,” I whisper.
“Why not?” He whispers back.
“It hurts,” I admit and close my eyes. “Having you here hurts far worse than these injuries, Caleb.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and I’m just sick of hearing it.
“You know what, I think I will go up to my bedroom.” I stand, wincing but proud of myself for not crying out.
“Let me help you, damn it!” He stands next to me, ready to wrap his arms around me, but I move away.
“I can do this on my own. My legs aren’t hurt.”
Without another word, I slowly walk to the stairway and up the steps, one at a time, gripping the handrail for balance.
Getting onto the bed and into a comfortable position is pure hell. I don’t bother to try to change my clothes or get under the covers.
I just want to sleep.
I want to sleep with Caleb’s arms holding me, but that’s not going to happen.
Tears fall down my face as I lean my head back against the headboard and pray for a dreamless sleep to claim me.
***
I wake with a start, gasping for breath. It’s still light out, and glancing at the clock, I see I’ve only been asleep for an hour.
But the dream was chasing me again, the one where I can’t find my girls or Caleb, and panic seizes me.
Did I dream him?
Is he really here?
I need to see him. I struggle from the bed, swearing at the dull throb in my shoulder, and slowly move down the stairs to the living room.
There he is.
Caleb is sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees and head propped in his hands. He looks defeated and broken, and despite my resolve to tell him to go to hell, I can’t stop myself from going to him.
I push my fingers into his soft hair and he quickly sits up, his eyes wide as he looks up into my face.
“Bryn?”
“I thought I dreamed you.” I voice catches as tears fill my eyes. “I needed to see you.”
“Ah, baby,” he murmurs and stands, lifts me gently into his arms and lowers us effortlessly onto the couch, cradling me close to him, kissing my forehead and cheek. “I’m sorry baby.”
“I know. You can stop saying it. But I do need you to talk to me.” I tip my head back so I can look him in the eye. “The past three months have been horrible for me and the girls, Caleb. They miss you. They kept asking if they did something wrong to make you go away.”
His eyes fill with tears but I keep talking. “We love you so much, and you just left us. After everything we’d been through together.”
“I know,” he whispers, his voice raw. “I was pretty fucked up, Bryn. You saw the nightmares. I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you again, and I convinced myself that I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“What are the nightmares about?” I ask and watch as his face goes white. “You can tell me.”
“It’s classified,” he replies, but I cup his cheek in my hand and make him meet my gaze.
“Who the hell am I gonna tell, Caleb?”
He sighs and leans his forehead against mine.
“I was on a mission in Afghanistan about seven months ago with three other men. It was just supposed to be a recon mission…”
I raise my eyes at him as if to say, “English, please.”
“We were just supposed to go in and gather information,” he continues. “We knew there were armed Taliban in the area, but we didn’t know if there were ten or a hundred. Our intel wasn’t the best.”
I frown and watch his face as it tightens as he continues the story.
“Turned out there were roughly fifty of them, and they were waiting for us.”
“How did they know you’d be there?” I ask.
“Good question,” he responds. “I’ll spare you the details, but I lost all three of my teammates that day.”
I gasp and drag my hand down his cheek, comforting him. “Oh, I’m so sorry. How did you make it out?”
He swallows hard and licks his lips. “I was knocked unconscious and they thought I was dead. Just as they began to retreat, our Special Forces guys came in to help. It was too late for the other guys on my team, but they pulled me out of there.”
“I didn’t know how to handle the way I felt about you,” he begins and swallows. “How I feel.”
“And how is that?”
“I love you so much it hurts,” he responds immediately, his eyes holding mine.
I will not cry!
“So you think you can come waltzing back in here and profess your love for me and that makes it all better?”
He swears under his breath and shakes his head.
“I’m here to apologize, first and foremost. I had a long talk with the girls last night before you kicked me out of your room and before your dad took them home.”
“You did?” I ask, surprised, and worried that he’s got their hopes up again.
“I apologized to them, and hugged them, and we got some things worked out.”
“What, exactly, did you get worked out with two six-year-olds?” I ask with a laugh.
“I’ll get to that,” he responds with a grin, showing me his dimples, and I want to cave right then.
Those damn dimples get me every time.
I try to move in the sofa to find a comfortable position and cry out when I bump my shoulder.
“Hey, easy,” he croons and helps me rearrange the pillows behind me. “Easy, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby,” I whisper.
“Why not?” He whispers back.
“It hurts,” I admit and close my eyes. “Having you here hurts far worse than these injuries, Caleb.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and I’m just sick of hearing it.
“You know what, I think I will go up to my bedroom.” I stand, wincing but proud of myself for not crying out.
“Let me help you, damn it!” He stands next to me, ready to wrap his arms around me, but I move away.
“I can do this on my own. My legs aren’t hurt.”
Without another word, I slowly walk to the stairway and up the steps, one at a time, gripping the handrail for balance.
Getting onto the bed and into a comfortable position is pure hell. I don’t bother to try to change my clothes or get under the covers.
I just want to sleep.
I want to sleep with Caleb’s arms holding me, but that’s not going to happen.
Tears fall down my face as I lean my head back against the headboard and pray for a dreamless sleep to claim me.
***
I wake with a start, gasping for breath. It’s still light out, and glancing at the clock, I see I’ve only been asleep for an hour.
But the dream was chasing me again, the one where I can’t find my girls or Caleb, and panic seizes me.
Did I dream him?
Is he really here?
I need to see him. I struggle from the bed, swearing at the dull throb in my shoulder, and slowly move down the stairs to the living room.
There he is.
Caleb is sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees and head propped in his hands. He looks defeated and broken, and despite my resolve to tell him to go to hell, I can’t stop myself from going to him.
I push my fingers into his soft hair and he quickly sits up, his eyes wide as he looks up into my face.
“Bryn?”
“I thought I dreamed you.” I voice catches as tears fill my eyes. “I needed to see you.”
“Ah, baby,” he murmurs and stands, lifts me gently into his arms and lowers us effortlessly onto the couch, cradling me close to him, kissing my forehead and cheek. “I’m sorry baby.”
“I know. You can stop saying it. But I do need you to talk to me.” I tip my head back so I can look him in the eye. “The past three months have been horrible for me and the girls, Caleb. They miss you. They kept asking if they did something wrong to make you go away.”
His eyes fill with tears but I keep talking. “We love you so much, and you just left us. After everything we’d been through together.”
“I know,” he whispers, his voice raw. “I was pretty fucked up, Bryn. You saw the nightmares. I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you again, and I convinced myself that I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“What are the nightmares about?” I ask and watch as his face goes white. “You can tell me.”
“It’s classified,” he replies, but I cup his cheek in my hand and make him meet my gaze.
“Who the hell am I gonna tell, Caleb?”
He sighs and leans his forehead against mine.
“I was on a mission in Afghanistan about seven months ago with three other men. It was just supposed to be a recon mission…”
I raise my eyes at him as if to say, “English, please.”
“We were just supposed to go in and gather information,” he continues. “We knew there were armed Taliban in the area, but we didn’t know if there were ten or a hundred. Our intel wasn’t the best.”
I frown and watch his face as it tightens as he continues the story.
“Turned out there were roughly fifty of them, and they were waiting for us.”
“How did they know you’d be there?” I ask.
“Good question,” he responds. “I’ll spare you the details, but I lost all three of my teammates that day.”
I gasp and drag my hand down his cheek, comforting him. “Oh, I’m so sorry. How did you make it out?”
He swallows hard and licks his lips. “I was knocked unconscious and they thought I was dead. Just as they began to retreat, our Special Forces guys came in to help. It was too late for the other guys on my team, but they pulled me out of there.”
