Page 7 of Healing Love

I watch the frustrating, mesmerizing, mysterious woman take a seat on the couch and pat the seat next to her. I stare at her hand, then look into those eyes that seem to see everything whether I want her to or not.

“Come on, I’m a good listener. Everyone has bad days. Maybe I can relate and then you won’t feel so alone.”

Her words take flight in my mind, spiking my adrenaline and causing my heart to thrash in my chest. Angels war with demons in my mind, half of me unable to understand why this woman doesn’t want me to be alone, while the other half is screaming that no one understands what I’m going through and everyone needs to stop trying so goddamn hard.

“Elliot?” Her tone is quiet, almost reverent, as if she knows I’m fighting an invisible battle. I can’t take it. Her kindness, her beauty, the way I ache for her during the week when I know I shouldn’t.

“You think you can relate to me?” I spit out, anger dripping from my words. Brielle widens her eyes at my harsh tone, but I can’t stop now. “You have a degree, a career, a nice lifestyle that affords you fancy shoes and diamond earrings. You may spend your days around hardened veterans, collecting sad stories from their time in combat, but that doesn’t mean you can relate to my suffering.”

I’m heaving by the time I finish my rant, gulping down air as I try to calm the fuck down. Brielle blinks up at me from her seated position on the couch, her face completely blank. No smile. No hint of playfulness. No witty remark or sassy comeback. When her chin trembles, I want to collapse into a heap on the floor and beg for her forgiveness. God, please don’t cry. Please don’t cry…

She stands up, avoiding eye contact as she smooths down her shirt and picks invisible pieces of lint from her pants just to have something to do other than look at me. Fuck me, I finally did it. I pushed her away. Like I wanted. Right?

Then why do I feel like the biggest asshole who has ever walked the planet?

“Brielle,” I start, though I don’t know what else to say. I can’t remember the last time I apologized.

“I hear you loud and clear, Mr. Erickson.” Mr. Erickson? Her entire demeanor has switched from open and friendly to cold and professional. I deserve this. It’s what I wanted, I remind myself. “Let’s get down to business then,” she says in a clipped voice.

Brielle walks past me, toward the file sitting on her desk, and without thinking, I grab her hand and hold it in mine. She gasps softly, looking down at our clasped hands. Her gaze turns toward me, those bright blue eyes once again filled with emotion. This is it. I can crush her or let her in. This moment will define the rest of my life, I can feel it.

“I wasn’t always like this,” I whisper, looking away from Brielle. “A bitter, broken monster who lashes out at anyone trying to help. I… I’m sorry.” I swallow thickly, feeling like I just ripped my heart out and laid it at her feet.

She squeezes my hand, drawing my attention back to her. Brielle takes a step closer, our bodies nearly touching. Her warm breath fans across my lips and all I can imagine is leaning down and finally tasting her sweetness.

“You’re not a monster,” she murmurs. “You’re in pain. Physically, mentally, emotionally. You went through something so traumatic it almost took your life. I’m sure there were some days you wished it would have.”

I nod, hanging on her every word.

“I can help, but you have to let me,” she continues. “I can’t make you want a better life for yourself. Only you can do that.”

“I don’t deserve a better life,” I say, the words slipping from my mouth before I can stop them.

Brielle’s eyes fill with tears, but this time it’s not because I was mean. She’s on the verge of crying… for me?

“Of course, you do,” she replies, her voice barely audible. “I see how you punish and isolate yourself. You deserve to lead a fulfilling life filled with people who love you.”

“I’ll just end up hurting them. I’m better off alone.”

“All that anger won’t go away just because you keep yourself locked up. It just turns inward, and that can lead to some pretty dark thoughts.”

I nod, all too familiar with my blackened soul and depressing thoughts. “How…?” I trail off, not even sure what I’m asking.

Brielle smiles for the first time since I yelled at her, and something settles deep in my chest. I never want to be the cause of her distress again. I only want her joy and laughter.

"You just took the first step," she tells me, lifting our joined hands. She rests them over my heart, those crystal blue eyes pleading with me to follow her on this journey of healing.

"Thank you," I rasp out, my voice gone at the moment. Brielle simply smiles and then lets go of my hand, continuing her route to her desk.

“So. Now that we’ve got that over with, how were the stretches this week?”

Just like that, she's back to her normal, bubbly self. She didn't linger on the emotional shit that I'm no good at, she just said what she needed to say and now we're moving on. Could it really be that easy? I apologize, and she forgives, then we have a fresh start?

“Elliot?”

“Yeah,” I respond, my mind still reeling from how quickly we bounced back from my immature and inappropriate outburst. Is everyone like this, or is she special? Without a doubt, Brielle is special. I know that to be true down to my very bones.

We discuss the progress I've been making, and Brielle switches up some stretches to focus on different muscle groups. When our time is up, I don't want to leave. I never thought I'd say it, but I want to hang around the VA if it means I can spend more time with Brielle.

---