When they reached the sidewalk, Kali turned to Derek. “There’s a little park up the way, past the library. We could sit there.”
Derek nodded and fell into step beside her. “Marvin said you have a tumour, but that it’s not life-threatening, just vision threatening.”
“Derek.”
“I saw you at the hospital, saw you with him that day. I wanted to say something but couldn’t. Not then. Shelley said you were with someone, or starting to be. She said I shouldn’t step back into your life unless I knew for sure I was here to stay.”
Kali stopped and turned. “Shelley knew you were here?”
“I went to the hospital. I knew that’s where you last worked. She told me about your tests. She—”
“She knew?” Kali’s voice raised. “For how long?”
“I made her promise not to tell you. She only knew for a couple of weeks. She was angry about that, really. But I begged her to let me tell you in my own time.”
Kali kept walking. At a stop light she turned to him again. “How long have you been back?”
“About three weeks.”
“Why did you—?”
“I wanted to get things in order. A job. A place to live. I didn’t want to show up and have you think ... I don’t know. I wanted to be established. I wanted to show you I was serious.”
The walk signal turned green and Kali tapped her way into the street. She kept her gaze ahead, knowing the potential perils of trying to do anything but. “You have a job? With the army?”
“I left the army. I’m working at a mechanic’s up on Robie Street. I have an apartment on Chebucto. Less than a ten minute walk.”
Kali frowned. They crossed the lawn and settled on a bench overlooking the park and the community garden greenhouse. She angled herself toward him. “So you’re here to stay.”
“I’m here to stay.”
“I thought you couldn’t just leave the army. I thought—”
“You can’t usually. But my contract was up. I could sign on for another stint or I could leave. I decided to leave.”
Kali took a deep breath. “Why?”
Derek smiled and gestured to his leg. “I’m not going to lie, part of it was this. There’s a lot less you can do in the army when you’re crippled.”
“Derek.”
“Anyway, that was part of it. But the biggest reason was you and Theo. I wanted a chance to make things right.” Another smile. “I could have gotten a transfer to Dartmouth if I’d signed up again, but there’d always be a chance they’d transfer me somewhere else. I wanted to be in control of my destination. I wanted to make sure, no matter what, if you needed me I’d be there.”
Kali looked at the bench between them, her head shaking. She returned Derek’s gaze. “But why now? Why after all of these—”
“I broke, Kali. After Jason, I was devastated. Ashamed. Shattered. Depressed—though I didn’t have that word for it at the time. All the things you held back from saying, all the things I could see in your eyes, I felt them too. It was rash and arrogant to jump into that water. I didn’t think of you. I didn’t think of our unborn child. I just jumped. I acted on my need to be the hero without a thought. Even worse, I did the same thing when I signed up for the Forces. I leapt—hoping for a way to save myself, to save all of us. But I didn’t think about what that meant. I didn’t think about the consequences. And as a result of those choices, I lost my brother—destroyed the amazing future he would have had—and then I lost you.”
Kali’s jaw clenched. Derek looked broken, contrite. Part of her wanted to reach forward, smooth her hand along his jaw like she had so many times before, but the anger still brimmed. He had abandoned them, even if she’d been the one to push him further away.
Would he have come home regularly if her anger hadn’t flared, if she hadn’t made the declarations she’d made? Would there have been phone calls and video chats in between? Would she have had support—both emotionally and financially? Would Theo know his father?
None of that mattered now. The past couldn’t be erased, no matter how sorry he seemed. She’d been alone. She’d raised their son alone, and Derek hadn’t sent her a penny.
Kali took a breath. “So, what changed?”
“Me, I guess. Over time. When I was recovering,” he gestured to his leg again, “the army made me go to counselling. I should have had it long before, but I hid my scars well.”
“It was an IED?” Kali glanced at his leg. “I received a letter from the army, but ...”
“Yeah.” Derek nodded. “On a humanitarian aid mission. I was lucky. One of my friends ...” he shook his head. “It took a long time. I’ve been in counselling for the past two and a half years. Not as intensely of late as at the start, but it revealed a lot of things.” He paused. “A lot.”
Kali nodded then looked away. She rubbed a hand along her arm then turned back. “What things, Derek? What’s so different? It’s been over four years. Four years of near silence, four years of—”
“The silence was your choice, Kali.”
Kali’s jaw clenched. “You’re the one who left.”
“With every intent of coming back.”
“What things?” Kali’s voice rose. “What brought you back? If your contract hadn’t been up would it have been another year, two, never?”
Derek’s chest rose and fell, he offered the slightest smile. “You always said I had a hero complex.”
Kali turned her gaze to the park.
“I had to figure out where that came from, why it was so important.” He paused. “I think it had a lot to do with my mom, not being able to save her. Then my dad, too ... not being able to save him from himself. Not being enough for him.”
Kali looked back to Derek, her jaw twitching. The words weren’t a surprise. She’d wondered these things herself. Wondered how much Marvin’s breakdown, his giving up on life, had to do with Derek giving up on her, wondered if she’d been wrong to push him away, if his choices were more than selfish and arrogant and thoughtless. If she’d failed him by not seeing that something was deeply wrong, that he needed help.
“I honestly thought you’d be better without me, that if I stayed long enough you’d be destroyed, like everyone I loved was destroyed.”
Kali’s brow furrowed. “Your mom had nothing to do with you, and neither did Marvin. Saving him wasn’t your responsibility.”
“I know that now. But Jason, Jason was—”
“Jason made his own choice.”
“Anyway,” Derek folded his hands, “I thought if I provided for you, if I devoted myself to helping others, making up for all the people I couldn’t help—”
“Derek.”
“I know it was wrong thinking. But that’s how I thought. If I did that, it’d be better for all of us. I’d see you when I could, but I wouldn’t have to face ... my life.”
There was so much to say. So many ways she could accuse, confront. Even the providing—she thought back to the rats, to the apartment before that one, with its mold and drafts. She’d said she didn’t want him, didn’t need anything from him, but when it got bad, when she wasn’t sure where money for medicine was going to come from, or she spent her mornings checking traps. When she had to move herself and her son into an apartment with a stranger, she would have taken Derek’s money—without a thought. He owed them that much.
“I’m truly sorry, Kali. We were supposed to be partners and when I signed up without talking to you I broke that partnership, that trust. I understand now why you reacted the way you did.”
Kali pressed her lips together then sighed. “I was wrong, too. Keeping you from Theo. Making it all or nothing.”
“I should have fought for you though, for all of us. I shouldn’t have let you push me away with my tail between my legs. He’s my son. You’re my wife.”
She shook her head. “Was your wife. I only stayed ... well, for Marvin. I needed to be family, but now that you’re back.”
He put a hand on her arm. “We’ll talk about that later. The point is I should have fought. I wish I’d ... even when your Mom died, I could see how distraught you were ... but you didn’t want me and I believed I’d only bring you down. I was in a bad spot, probably worse than before. It was just a few months after the accident. It’s a complicated feeling, not being whole.”
“What do you mean?”
Derek gave her a questioning look then lifted his pant leg. Kali gasped.