Page 19 of Shielding His Heart
I wipe my mouth with a napkin and study my hands. “It didn’t feel like two months to me, to be honest. It felt a lot longer. All I knew was that when I faced deploying without you in my life, I couldn’t leave without knowing you were mine. Permanently, legally, and everywhere I could have you. Maybe a little bit of your crazy rubbed off on me.” I huff out a laugh.
“Doesn’t sound any crazier than the situation we’re currently in.” When I look up at her, she giggles a little. Some of the tension in my chest releases. If I hadn’t already kissed her, that little giggle would’ve made me kiss her for sure. I missed hearing it.
“I guess you’re right about that. OK, I’ve got to get the girls from school and take them to my mother’s house. Are you going to be okay here by yourself for a while? You’ll have the rest of the weekend to yourself too. My mom will check on you to make sure you don’t need anything. I figured you’d probably enjoy the freedom.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that, but I think I’m OK. I’m planning to spend as much time as possible outside. After being cooped up in the hospital, all I can think about is being outside.”
“That sounds like a plan to me. I’m going to leave you my card, so if you need anything just use it. The pin number is 4382.”
She winces, and her shoulders tense up a little. I know she hates me taking care of her, but I don’t know any other way to be. “Thank you,” she says. I’m grateful she doesn’t argue.
I hesitate before turning to go. I don’t like leaving her alone. She’s still bruised up and sore, and all I wanna do is hold her. I’m pretty sure if I started, I wouldn’t be able to let go. It was a miracle I stopped kissing her in the first place.
Giving myself a little shake, I grab my wallet and keys. I need a mental buzzer every time I slip back into thinking things are like they used to be. They probably won’t ever be. I need to remember that for all of our sakes.
When I can’t drag it out any longer, I leave her with a wave. Mom promised to check in or do a little drive-by so I don’t worry too much. When I get in the truck and drive away, there’s a weight on my chest like I’m wearing fifty pounds of gear. It’s harder than I thought to leave. Much harder than it was leaving her in the hospital. At least then, I knew she was being watched over twenty-four seven. At least then, I was selfishly sure she couldn’t run away if she wanted.
I think about that on the way to the school to pick up the girls, through our goodbyes at my mom’s, and on the drive to the station. Because she could now. She could leave if she wanted. If this is too hard, or if she realizes she doesn’t love me or wants to have the girls. She could leave. And I couldn’t blame her. The memories, feelings, and promises she made before the accident are gone. It’s only whatever obligation and sense of morality she has inside her that keeps her with us. All of that could change in an instant.
And that scares the ever-living shit out of me.
CHAPTER10
TANA
Later that day, I’m surprised to find myself missing Alec.
Which doesn’t make sense. I barely know him. What’s there to miss? Sure, he visited me every day in the hospital. Aside from the healthcare workers, he was my only other touchstone to my new life. It’s probably just familiarity. Or what little familiarity we have.
It’s probably because this is the first time I’ve had any real alone time since I woke up in the hospital. If he wasn’t there visiting, nurses and doctors or specialists were coming in and out. There was just always someone around. Maybe I found comfort in the background noise of the hospital and staff and all the sounds around me. It reminded me I wasn’t alone. Because now that there’s no one else here, I’m alone with my thoughts. It’s quiet, and there’s only me.
True, Alec is a stranger, but so am I. There’s a huge blank spot where the old Tana used to be. And like the doctors have been telling me, I have to get to know the me I am now.
Before I give Alec or the girls answers or figure anything else out, I have to start there.
Talking to Alec helps. It gives me a glimpse into the life that I used to have. But I also want to figure some of those things out on my own.
This is the perfect time to do that. After he left, I wandered around like a lost kitten. I went from room to room just looking at things. I was mostly drawn to the girls’ rooms. I didn’t invade their space or go through any of their things. I just stood in the doorway and looked around, pretty much like a creep, but I didn’t think they’d mind. Well, Paisley might’ve minded, so I didn’t stay too long by her room. Gemma probably would have invited me in to play. It’s incredible that I already have such a sense of them after such a short time. I wonder if that’s some sort of maternal intuition coming out.
I did the same thing with the rest of the rooms in the house. Alec told me to make myself at home. He said nothing was off-limits. But I still felt weird going into his—our—bedroom. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how strange it is to know this house, this place and these things, belong to me yet feel so distant from all of it.
That sensation couldn’t be more prevalent than when I open Alec’s bedroom door and am bombarded with a variety of scents. The first is something floral, feminine. It must be my perfume. I think of Alec sleeping here, smelling my perfume, and being alone. A wave of empathy crashes over me. I wish this didn’t have to be so hard on him.
There’s nothing I can do about that. I feel I owe it to him and the girls—for caring for me—to learn more about the woman I used to be, so I head straight for the closet. I feel like seeingherclothes. And I have to think about before-me asherbecause she feels so separate. Seeingherclothes may help get a glimpse insideherhead.
It’s a generous walk-in closet. Alec’s clothes and uniforms are to the right, and mine pretty much take up seventy-five percent of what remains. I guess in that aspect, we were pretty stereotypical. Even though I came into the closet to look atherclothes, I’m drawn to his instead.
I might as well get to know him as well. I don’t think he’ll mind. Hanging in neat lines on his side are several uniform T-shirts, tactical-looking pants, and other basic T-shirts, most of which look like they need to be thrown out because they’re covered in grease stains, and God knows what else. There are a couple long-sleeved, button-down shirts that look dressier and then hoodies and jackets. But I don’t see any regular, non-work pants. I know it’s Florida, but it gets cold sometimes. Does he have some sort of grudge against pants?
The thought makes me smile because, of course, he would. I imagine if he’s not at work, he’s outside or playing with the girls. His style leans more toward efficient comfort. Which pretty much describes him, to my mind. But I can’t help but think he would look great in a pair of somewhat fitted blue jeans. I may not remember him, but I know there’s something about a man in tight jeans. My mouth waters at the thought of him in them, and I clear my throat even though there’s no one around. I force myself to move from his side of the closet to what used to be mine. I’ve got to stop thinking of him like that, but thoughts of him have assaulted me ever since that kiss.
Stop thinking about it, Tana.
Does a woman even need this many clothes? As I rifle through them, my eyebrows move higher toward my hairline. There are dozens of blouses, skirts, pants, and dresses. Certainly, too many for one person to wear. I could pick one thing each day and still have more left at the end of the year. Before–me must have liked her clothes. Since the total of my wardrobe for the past month has been yoga pants or a hospital gown, all the fancy fabrics and indulgently flamboyant heels are overwhelming. Foreign. I’ve seen her Instagram, and whileshewas gorgeous, I just can’t picture her influencer-chic style meshing with Alec’s rugged simplicity. He must have really loved her.
Right now, I think I’d just be happy to dress more like Alec. Simple. Maybe a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. But I decide to try on some of the clothes anyway to see if I’m wrong. First, a summer sundress. It’s beautiful, but I don’t know. The dress fits me like a second skin, following my curves and accentuating my positive attributes while camouflaging my insecurities. I had to hand it toher; she had excellent taste. I feel like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes.
I guess I sort of am.
