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“Why don’t you practice on me,” she suggested, voice soft. “You can pretend I’m George.”
He nodded. She only just registered the incline of his head as he moved it.
Jessica took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll start.” She paused. “Why did you really go back to war so soon? Why didn’t you come home? Stay with me?”
He kept his eyes shut. “I can’t answer that.”
She sighed and sat back. On second thought she reached for his hand, wanting to give him strength even if it hurt her. “If you can’t be honest with me, how are you going to be honest with a boy who wants the truth?”
She watched as Ryan’s thumb traced her palm, holding her hand back. It felt so good it hurt, but she didn’t dare pull her hand away. Couldn’t. The tingle in her fingertips and the pulse at her neck were enough to make her stay put.
When he was ready to talk he dropped his hold and pulled his chair around to face her head-on. She forced herself to breathe, had to concentrate on every inhale and exhale of her lungs.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
She nodded, still off balance from touching him, from his skin connecting with hers. From wanting him to do it again and hating herself for even thinking about him like that.
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut one more time then focused, looking firmly into hers.
“I left because going away was easier than staying. I was a coward and I should have been here for you.”
Jessica gulped silently as tears pooled in her eyes. This was what he’d been needing to say for so long. There was no disguising the pain in his voice.
“Go on,” she urged huskily.
“I told myself that you would be better off without me, and I felt guilty over your mom’s death. Like if only I’d loved her more, been here for her more, she could have pulled through. Everyone thought we had this perfect life, and in many ways we did, but then when she got sick everything just went into free fall, and after a while it was easier to just stay away than deal with her death.” He paused. “And with you.”
Jessica stood and walked away a few steps. She couldn’t help it. Tears hit her cheeks and trickled their way down her jaw. She’d known hurt before, known what it was like to be left, but she also knew what it was like to be the one who did the hurting.
“Jess?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just …”
“Did I say something wrong?” He sounded concerned.
She reached her fingertips to her face and brushed the tears away. Before she could turn large hands fell on her arms, holding her from behind.
“I shouldn’t have said all that, but once I started it …”
Jessica closed her eyes then turned back to face him. She’d tried not to let her own feelings intrude, but it was hard. Impossible even.
“I lost someone once, too, Ryan, that’s all. Hearing you say all that kind of brought that back. I don’t know why but it did.”
His eyes questioned her but he didn’t say anything. Instead it was as if a metal guard had been raised, shielding his gaze and putting a wall between them. A divide that hadn’t been there before.
Jessica didn’t want to think about her past. Probably as much as Ryan wanted to disclose his, if the look on his face right now was any indication. It did give them something in common. Not exactly the common element most people would wish for, but on some level she did understand him. And if she wanted to tell him, he’d probably feel the same about her. But she didn’t want to, and the last thing she intended was burdening him with her problems, or letting her mind dwell on what could happen to her.
“You know what? I think maybe it’s time for me to go,” he said, suddenly looking like a startled animal within sight of a predator. As if he wanted to flee the scene.
“Okay.” Now she was the one confused. “Do you want to maybe grab dinner tonight? Do that ‘start over’ thing again?”
He was smiling but it looked forced. Not like before.
“Can we take a rain check on that? Maybe tomorrow night?”
Ouch. She hadn’t seen that one coming. She’d overreacted, not been able to keep her emotions in check, but she hadn’t realized he’d react like that.
“How about you call me when you’re free?” she suggested.
He nodded and turned back toward the house. “See you, bud.”
At least he’d said goodbye to the dog.
“I’m sorry, Jess. It’s just that I need to pick George up from school.”
She shrugged. Even she knew that school didn’t get out for a while yet. “I get it. We can catch up later.”
She followed him back into the house, wondering what she would give to truly start over with him and be the strong girl from the letters. To go back to him standing on her doorstep and make the day turn out completely different.
His tall frame disappeared through the door and he didn’t look back, his broad shoulders and dark hair fading from sight.
Jessica stood with her hands on her hips and surveyed the huge stretch of canvas on the floor in front of her. Not her best work, but the colors were brilliant. The organic paint took some getting used to, although if it meant no toxic fumes she had no intention of complaining.
She’d tried to focus on her new piece, but her mind kept wandering. Going to a place she didn’t want to go back to but couldn’t claw out from.
She found it was easier sometimes to pretend it hadn’t happened. When you were surrounded by people who loved you or who had been the cause of grief, it sucked something from you. Pulled you into a world you didn’t want to confront.
Like her cancer. She’d dealt with. Fought it. Survived it.
Yet her family treated her like she needed permanent wrapping in cotton wool just to survive each day now. Looked at her in a way that made her uncomfortable. And she hated it.
Was that how Ryan felt? The same way she did when she looked in the mirror and saw the reality of her body? Is that how he felt about being home? About the reality of what he’d gone through and then battled every day? How it was to come home and face something you’d run from for years?
Sometimes she felt like that, too. Sometimes she wished she could run away from what had happened and leave it all behind. But just like Ryan had had to return, so had she. To the reality of life as a cancer survivor.
She let her hand brush over the almost-hard contour of her breast, skimming the side of it, not caring that her fingers were covered in paint. Jessica sighed. She’d always mocked women with implants. Found it hard to fathom why breast augmentation was such an attraction.
She smiled with the irony. When she’d faced the reality of a double mastectomy, the first question she’d asked was what kind of reconstruction they could do. How they could give her her femininity back. Her breasts.
So now she had teardrop-shaped silicone implants that were better than nothing, but that still made her shake her head sometimes. That despite being diagnosed with cancer, facing chemo, knowing there was a chance she could die, all she’d wanted was to feel like a woman again. To know that even though they didn’t feel soft when they’d once been natural, she still had her femininity, even if it had meant facing cosmetic reconstructive surgery to obtain them.
Maybe it was the same for Ryan. Without being a soldier, he would feel like less of a man, less of a human being. Maybe that was why he felt he had to go back, had to return to his unit. Had to offer himself up for redeployment.
If she could talk to him, explain to him how she felt, maybe it would help him. Help them both. But she couldn’t do it.
She didn’t want him to know. Couldn’t tell him. Because then he’d start looking at her the same way everyone else did, and with Ryan, she just wanted to be Jessica. Not the girl with cancer. The girl in remission. Or the girl who’d already lost her sister to the disease.
Maybe he wouldn’t look at her differently, or treat her like a different person, but she wasn’t prepared to risk it. Not when she only had a limited time to enjoy having a friend like Ryan.
Or maybe she was too scared to tell him.
Either way, it was her secret and she had no intention of divulging it.
But after the way he’d left today, like he was fleeing a burning wreckage, she didn’t know when they’d be seeing each other again. If ever.
“Jess?”
She looked up as Bella crossed her arms and leaned against the door of her studio. Jess sighed. Today had definitely not gone as planned.
“You have some serious explaining to do,” her friend said.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_b323648d-c04c-53df-9499-9252aa37d5a4)
Jessica,
I don’t know how you know so much about loss or dealing with pain, but you’ve helped me more than I could ever tell you. Having a friend to write to, someone to just hang out with in the normal world, makes all the difference to me. I love what I do, wouldn’t give it up for the world, but sometimes it helps to have someone non-army to talk to.
You do realize I’m gonna owe you big-time when I come home. Dinner, drinks, whatever you want, but you writing to me has given me a boost, and that only makes me a better soldier. I was starting to think I was too old for war, but it’s like I’ve been recharged.
So think about it. When I finally leave this place and come home, my shout. Whatever you want. And I promise not to talk about me or ask you for any more advice. Okay? Ryan
RYAN SAT IN the car and watched the throng of kids as they spilled out from the building. He couldn’t see George, but then that was hardly a surprise. The boy would probably hide in class to avoid having to get in the car with his dad.
But Ryan was patient. He’d wait here as long as he had to. Besides, it wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough on his mind to keep him occupied.
Jessica.
Today had started out so well and ended so … badly. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. He thumped his hand on the wheel. Ow! Sometimes he forgot he was meant to be recuperating, that he couldn’t use his arm like that. It hurt badly sometimes, ached, bothered him when he was uptight or unsure.
He hated not being strong and capable. It wasn’t that he was weak, but he’d always been the tough guy, the one who could be counted on physically and mentally in the worst of situations.
And it wasn’t like it was only his arm troubling him. His head was messed up, too, especially after his behavior earlier.
Somehow he’d managed to screw today up. Jessica was supposed to be the easy part, the simple meeting of a friend. How wrong he’d been.
Why was being back so hard? He was so good at being a soldier, it came so naturally to him. Ryan swallowed and looked out the window.
Being a dad had come naturally to him once, too.
So had being a husband.
But that felt like another lifetime ago. Like he could just hold on to it as a long-distant memory, but it was starting to fade. Fast.
Ryan jumped at a knock on the car window.
He cursed, then pushed the button to wind down the window and acknowledge George’s teacher. “You frightened the life out of me!”
“Sorry.” The young man smiled, holding out his hand.
Ryan opened the door and got out, shaking the teacher’s hand and leaning against the side of his car.
“It’s Shaun, right?”
The teacher nodded. Ryan had only met him once before, on his first day back, but he’d liked him straight away.
“I saw you sitting here and thought I’d see how you were getting on with George,” Shaun said.
Ryan shrugged. What did he say to that?
“Not great.” There seemed no point in not telling the truth.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“You know, once upon a time I knew exactly what to say to make him laugh, just to be there for him. You know?” he said.
Shaun gave him a kind smile.
“It’s not so easy anymore. Figuring out what the right thing to do with him is hard work,” Ryan admitted.
“I’m sure you’re doing everything you can. Just stick with it and do what feels right.”
Ryan nodded, shoulders heaving as he exhaled. He wasn’t usually one to open up, to talk to someone about how he felt, but George seemed to genuinely like his teacher. And he appreciated the offer of help.
“I guess I’ve found it hard to know what to say to him since his mom died. Until now, I’ve taken the easy way out and let my parents do the hard work.”
It had indeed been the coward’s way out and he was man enough to admit it. Especially now he could see firsthand the effect it had had on his boy.
“What matters is that you’re here now and you want to do something about it.” The teacher held out his hand again and patted Ryan on the shoulder with the other.
“You’ll get there, and if you need someone to talk to—either of you—I’m here. Okay?”
“Thanks.”
Shaun gestured toward the door. “I saw him by his locker before, I’m sure he’ll be out soon.”
Ryan watched the teacher walk off and got back in the car.
When he’d been redeployed the last time, he was still grieving for his wife. He’d held his son at the airport, hugged him tight and then walked away. Seeing his own mother hold his boy had left an image in his mind that had never faded. An image that told him George would be happier without his dad. That a messed-up, grieving, unsure father was nothing compared to the steady, loving influence of grandparents.
And then every month he’d stayed away it had simply been easier to keep telling himself it was true. That it was better for George, and it was sure easier for him. Because he didn’t have to see the similarities to his wife in his son’s face on a daily basis. Didn’t have to remember what it had been like when they’d been a family, the three of them. Happy and content.
But now … Now George was, well, not a little boy anymore. He’d gone from a sweet nine-year-old to an almost twelve-year-old with a voice on the verge of cracking and an attitude to boot. It was obvious he loved his grandparents, but his feelings toward his father were a whole other matter entirely.
If he even felt anything for his father anymore.
But what had Ryan expected? To come home and pick up where they’d left off? He’d been a fool to stay away so long, but he wasn’t going to run away again. He was going to stand up, take it on the chin and accept the fact that he’d failed his son.
The car door opened. Ryan sat up straighter and looked into the eyes of his son.
