Waiting for You(62)

He was silent. After a minute she said, “Tell me about Hope.”

He could leave, he told himself. He could just walk out the door.

But maybe if Erin heard all this, she’d see that he was broken beyond repair. That therapy could help, but could never make him whole.

Nothing could do that.

“Hope was a combat medic. We met when we were both stationed in Germany, between deployments. We were together six months before she went back to Afghanistan with her unit. I followed a few weeks later, but our bases were hundreds of miles apart. We hadn’t seen each other for a while when I told her I was in Kabul for a week, and she pulled some strings to come meet me for a few days. On her way there she was killed by a roadside bomb.”

“Jake, I’m so sorry,” Erin said after a minute, her voice soft. “I can only imagine how guilty you must have felt, even though it wasn’t your—”

“I’ve been in therapy for six months, Erin. I know it wasn’t my fault. Do you really think that makes it better?”

She shook her head slowly. “Tell me about Dan.”

His jaw tightened. “Dan was killed in a helicopter crash. A helicopter I should have been on. We flipped a coin to see who would go, and he won.” He rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Jesus. He won.”

He let his hand drop. “I stepped on an IED a few months before Dan died. It should have killed me, but it never went off. The bomb disposal team couldn’t figure out why. They just said it was a lucky break. A miracle.”

Every muscle in his body felt tense. “The nightmares started after Tikrit, but I could still handle it. After a while I stopped having them every night. But then, after Hope—” He shook his head. “I used to dream I was trying to call her, to tell her not to come. I could never get through. Sometimes I couldn’t get the number right when I tried to dial the phone. Sometimes she’d answer, but she couldn’t hear my voice.”

He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “After Dan was killed, I’d dream I was running towards his helicopter before it exploded. I ran for that damn helicopter a thousand times and every time I was too late.”

He dropped his hands to his sides. “It’s all so goddam unfair. So pointless. Megan was fourteen years old when she died. And Hope…she was going to medical school when she got out of the Army. Dan had a wife and son waiting for him back home. Why the hell couldn’t it have been me?”

He could feel his pulse starting to race, and he fought to control it. “And then that IED…” He shook his head. “Talk about a wasted miracle. If God wanted to hand one out, there were better candidates out there.”

He took a deep breath, and then another one. “So don’t expect me to spout crap about hearts and flowers and soul mates and fairy tales. I’ll never be able to give you that. But I can give you everything else that makes a marriage work. Friendship, and respect, and loyalty. Some people go their whole lives without getting that.”

Erin had wrapped her arms around her waist, above the baby. “Jake, I know how much you’ve lost. You’ve lost more than anyone should ever have to. But…” She paused. “If you don’t let yourself love, will that protect you? Will it hurt less if something terrible happens to me or the baby?”

His hands clenched into fists and a throbbing pain started at his temple. “Don’t talk about something happening to you. Don’t ever talk about that. And it’s not like I’m choosing not to love. Didn’t you hear what I said? If I could love you the way you want me to, I would. But I can’t. If you accept that, I think we can have a good life together.”

She got that stubborn look on her face—the one he knew so well.

“I don’t accept that. And I’m not going to marry the pieces of yourself you’re offering me. I want the whole package.”

He looked at her in frustration. “Erin, it’s not like I’m holding something back. This is everything I have to give. There’s nothing else.”

She took a step closer to him and pressed her hand flat to his chest, over his heart. “I don’t believe it. You’re not dead, Jake—just wounded.”

She was so earnest and fierce and sweet and stubborn. But looking down at her, feeling her small, strong hand pressed against his chest, he knew for certain that what he’d told her was true.

Because if any part of him was capable of the kind of love she wanted, he wouldn’t be able to resist her. He would fall at her feet right now and tell her all the things she wanted to hear.

“I’m sorry.”