| |
Gabi – Present Day
––––––––
IT TOOK THREE DAYS before I started to feel like myself again.
I’d spent the night of the Fourth of July on Cole’s couch, with him sitting on the floor beside me, rubbing my back and stroking my hair until the worst of the pain and fear had passed. At first light, he’d driven me back to my dad’s house, but, upon finding my dad passed out drunk in bed, and unable to rouse him, he’d said he wasn’t going anywhere.
I self-medicated with an antidepressant and an anticonvulsant to treat the pain. I knew my doctor would have told me to come in and see him, but I’d been in this position before, and I knew what worked. My phantom limb pain would get better, but it was hard to remember that when I was caught right in the middle of it.
Cole had to leave me later that morning to go to work, but my dad managed to rouse himself, so Cole left, kissing me on the forehead, and promising to come back later. I used the privacy to apply a heat pad to my stump. Everything I was doing was about trying to change the way my brain was trying to communicate with my missing limb. I needed to disrupt the way my nerve endings were firing, and that would hopefully bring me some relief.
I thought I would never sleep, but managed to fall into a fitful doze, filled with visions so vivid I wasn’t sure what was real and what was a dream. One moment I was back in Iraq, and instead of having one leg amputated, I was missing both, and was dragging myself around in the dirt, crying for someone to help me. The next moment I had both legs back again, and I was able to run as I used to, running so fast I felt like I was flying and powering up hills effortlessly.
I didn’t know which was the worst part—the nightmare of not having any legs, or the reality of knowing I’d never run like that again.
When I woke, it was dark once more. I’d slept through most of the day. Cole was back, sitting at my bedside, watching me with a concerned expression. I caught a whiff of cooking oil and charred meat, and realized he hadn’t even gone home to get changed before coming back to visit me.
“Hey,” he said, noticing I was awake. “How are you feeling?”
I sat up slightly, making sure my lower half was covered with the bed sheet. I still wasn’t ready for him to see my stump. “Better, thanks. You didn’t need to come straight back here.”
He edged forward in his seat. “I was worried about you. You were all I could think about my whole shift.”
I glanced away. “Sorry.”
Cole reached out and covered my hand with his own. “Don’t ever be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I ruined your July Fourth.”
“Fuck July Fourth.”
“Cole!”
He shrugged. “Well, none of this is your fault. I don’t want you ever feeling like it is.”
“And I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here. We shared some moments when we were kids, Cole. You don’t owe me anything.”
He frowned. “I’m here because I want to be.”
I couldn’t keep arguing with him. I was too tired, and I knew any stress would make my phantom limb pain worse.
“I appreciate you checking up on me, but honestly, I’m still pretty beat. I just need to sleep this off, and I’m sure I’ll be back to normal in a few days.” I noted the dark shadows beneath his eyes, the lines on his forehead and grooves between his cheeks and mouth appearing deeper. “You must be exhausted, too. You’ve been working, and you didn’t sleep much last night either.”
His shoulders dropped and he ran a hand over his head and exhaled a sigh. “Yeah, I’m kind of beat. Your dad said he’d make up the spare room for me, though, if you wanted me to stay.”
I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Cole, I’m a big girl now. I’ll be fine while you go home and get yourself some rest and cleaned up.”
He glanced down at his stained white t-shirt. “I’m a bit of a mess, huh?”
I smiled, the first genuine one in a while. “Just a bit.”
“So can I call you tomorrow, or swing by?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“Okay, great.” He got to his feet and then hovered over me, uncertainly. He darted in and placed a kiss to my cheek, his stubble longer and not far off a beard now, the hair a combination between soft and scratchy against my face. The kiss was brief, chaste, the type of kiss you might give your elderly aunt or grandmother.
He backed away and gave me a final smile, before leaving the room.
I placed both hands over my face and sank deeper into the bed.
I felt so torn. I knew having him around was a bad idea in the long run, that this ... whatever this was ... wouldn’t end well for me. At some point, a young, fit, gorgeous woman who had all her limbs was going to attract Cole’s attention, and then I’d be left here, forgotten. I knew his attentiveness to me wouldn’t last, and that his motives were all about the guilt he carried rather than any actual feelings for me, but at the same time my heart longed to have him around. I felt better with him by my side, safer, and ironically more secure, even though I knew secure was the last thing I should be feeling.
I was dangling over a precipice, just waiting for Cole to let me fall.
***
COLE RETURNED THE NEXT day as promised.
My pain had subsided, and I’d gotten out of bed and taken a bath. I was dressed and mobile again, and some days I had to be thankful for achieving the small things. I was even more thankful to be dressed when a knock came at my front door.
I opened the door to find Cole balancing a stack of something in a brown paper bag. His biceps bunched either side, and the muscles in his forearms strained.
“Hey, you’re out of bed,” he said, from around the side of the pile.
“Yeah, I’m feeling much better.”
“That’s great. I didn’t know you’d be up and about, so I brought you something. I guess you can still make use of them, though.”
“Cole, what on earth is all this?”
“They’re all the books I remember you loved to read when you were seventeen.”
I laughed. “My taste in fiction has changed somewhat since then.”
The hurt on his face surprised me.
“I still love to read my old favorites, though.” I reached out to take the books from him, but he pulled away.
“I’ll carry them through. They’re surprisingly heavy.”
He carried them into the living room and set them down on the coffee table. They almost overbalanced and we both reached for them at the same time, our hands meeting. I looked up at him as we steadied the pile, and caught him grinning down at me. I smiled back and we locked eyes, our fingers touching. My heart flipped in my chest, and I dragged in a breath, forcing myself to pull away from him and stand straight. I needed to stop imagining these little moments of friction between us.
“These are great, Cole” I said, nodding to the books, my eyes skimming down the spines for the titles. “It’ll be a real trip down memory lane.” I wondered if it was really a good idea to be remembering anything else from when I was seventeen. Just having Cole here was bad enough.
“You’re welcome.” He glanced around. “So, where’s your dad?”
“He’s popped out to the grocery store. Knowing him, he’ll be a while.”
“As long as he doesn’t get himself stuck in any more gates.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I know. I still don’t understand how he managed to do that.”
Cole frowned slightly. “Tell me if I’m out of line, Gabi, but has he ever tried to get any help?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think he’s even accepted he has a problem. I thought after he lost his job—”
“He lost his job?” Cole interrupted. “I figured he’d just retired.”
Of course, Cole wouldn’t have been privy to all the town gossip when he’d been behind bars.
“No, he was fired. He was on duty with a blood alcohol level several times above the legal driving limit, and of course he’d been driving as well. He lost his license and was put on suspension that day, and then lost his job during the hearing. I thought that would have been the nudge he’d needed to get help, but he just carried on. If anything, the drinking got worse.”
“Didn’t you being home with your injury make him want to change?”
I shook my head. “Not a chance. I don’t think he ever will change now. The drink will probably kill him in the end.”
Cole took my hand, his fingers warm and firm around mine. “Jeez, Gabs. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head and glanced down, embarrassed. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but I care about you.”
“You do?” I risked lifting my eyes back to his.
Cole bit his lower lip, and my insides quivered. “You know I do. I always have.”
He stared at me in this dark, intense way, and then his hand lifted and his fingers brushed my cheek. His hand left my face, his knuckles grazing my jaw as they slipped around the back of my head. Then his fingers knotted in the hair at the base of my neck and he dragged me forward, leaning into me as he did so. He kissed me hard. There was no pause to make sure it was what I wanted, or tentative gentleness. No, Cole Devonport kissed me as though if he stopped for one second he would never get to kiss anyone again. His tongue thrust between my lips, searching for mine. I met him with equal hunger, an excitement I’d not experienced in a long time soaring up inside me.
He was kissing me! Cole was kissing me!
But instead of letting me enjoy the kiss, my stupid brain started working. Why is he kissing you? Does he feel sorry for you? Does he still feel guilty? Cole broke your heart and he’ll do the same thing again. And then the worst thought—if he wants to kiss you, he might want more, and if he wants more, you’ll have to show him your stump ...
Panic replaced excitement, and I put my hands against his chest, trying to not be distracted by the hard muscle beneath his t-shirt, and pushed him away.
“No, Cole!”
His handsome face crumpled. “I’m sorry ...” But he frowned and shook his head. “No, hell, I’m not. I’m not sorry I kissed you.”
“Well, I am. I can’t do this.”
“What? The kissing? Seemed like you were doing it pretty well to me.”
“Not the kissing,” I corrected myself. “Well, yes, the kissing. But I’m talking about all of it. The time spent together, the touchy-feely stuff. All of it! I haven’t forgotten what you did when I was seventeen, Cole. I haven’t forgiven, either. You broke my fucking heart, and I’m not about to put myself in that position again. I’ve got enough shit to deal with without you adding to it.”
He put his hands up in surrender. “Gabi, the last thing I want to do is land any more shit on your doorstep. I made the biggest mistake of my life when I—”
“No,” I all but shouted. “I don’t want to hear it!”
I saw him taking a breath, calming himself, preparing for what he was about to say. “Gabs, we were in love all those years ago—about as in love as I think it’s possible to be. Does that mean nothing to you now?”
“Of course it does, but I don’t think you should be the one asking if our love meant something. I wasn’t the one who screwed it all up.”
I winced at my words. That wasn’t completely true, but he didn’t know about that part, and I didn’t intend on ever letting him know.
“Okay, fair point. I just want to understand why you don’t want to try again.”
“You don’t know me anymore, Cole. The girl you fell in love with doesn’t even exist. You have no idea what my life has been like all these years that we’ve been apart.”
“What about my life?” he said. “You don’t know what my life has been like inside prison either.”
“No, and I don’t want to know.”
I caught the pained expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, Cole, but like I said, I have enough issues in my life. I don’t need any more complications.”
“Okay, I understand that. But what if I wanted to help instead of complicate anything further?”
“You don’t know me anymore,” I said. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. You’ve no way of understanding me or helping me.”
“So is that the only way a relationship can work, if the couple has been through everything together? What about a couple who meet later in life, who’ve gone through a whole life’s worth of experiences without each other before meeting? Are you saying that relationship could never work because they didn’t go through everything side by side? I think that’s bullshit, Gabi. Maybe I don’t understand right now, but you can make me understand. You can teach me what you’re going through. I’m standing here in front of you, begging you to tell me.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“Don’t we deserve a second chance?” he asked, softly.
I was close, so close to breaking down and letting him back into my heart, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
I pressed my lips, not wanting to even look at him. “We don’t always get a second chance at things, Cole. Sometimes too much damage has been done. Take my leg, for example. I’ll never get a second chance at the life I’d thought I was going to live when I had both legs, and I can never go back to that life. Maybe our relationship is the same. Maybe too much damage was done for us ever to recover.”
“Gabi ...” he said, reaching for me.
But I stepped away, shaking my head. “You know, I still remember exactly what you said to me in the school hall that day. I should—I must have replayed it a million times over in my head in the months that followed.”
“Shit, Gabi. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s too late for sorry. It’s almost eleven damn years too late.” I knew he would wear me down. That he would say all the right things and I would melt into his arms. I couldn’t let myself do that. I wasn’t strong enough to fix myself again. “Please, Cole. Just go, and leave me alone.”
He stared at me with pain and longing in his blue eyes, and my heart threatened to crack.
“Now, Cole! I want you out of my life, for good this time.”
His chin quivered and he balled his fists, and for a moment I thought he was going to say something else, but then he turned on his heel and slammed out of the house.
I push the front door shut behind him and pressed my back against it. A keening sob escaped my throat and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears. I wasn’t strong enough. I’d never been strong enough. And the worst part of it was that my heart was breaking all over again, and this time it wasn’t even Cole’s fault.
It seemed I was able to break my heart all by myself.