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The image of Taya sitting there with her book, smiling at me, relieves the tension in my shoulders. I smile back at the emptiness, my grasp on the paper towels lessening. What I wouldn’t give to hear her obnoxious singing in the shower right now to pull me out of this spell. The rumble of her motorcycle, or the soft curses she utters after breaking something. She can be such a klutz at times.

My posture relaxes, and I continue thinking about Taya.

Though her absence disrupts an already disturbed system, I’m glad she didn’t see me vomiting on the floor. I shudder at the thought of being that helpless and pathetic before anyone, particularly my wife. Taya’s been supportive, especially once I told her about my TBI and even has gone as far as to make sure my prescriptions are refilled before they run out, but there is a line. And it’s a line I hope I never have to find out about because I know she’ll leave and find someone better. Just like Raychel did.

And I can’t really say I’d blame her. If only she’d known me before the incident, when I was still whole and unbroken.

Setting the wastebasket to the side, I spray the floor and wipe away the remnants of my unceremonious breakdown. I can’t live in solitude again. It’s like being stuck in a sensory deprivation tank. I’m floating without an anchor or a port in sight, and I can’t scream loud enough to shatter the walls silence has built around me.

There’s no telling how long I scrub the floor on my hands and knees. I can still smell the echoes of vomit even though the strength of the bleach stings my eyes as it sits heavy in the air. Shoving away the suspicion that I’ll never feel clean enough, I finally put all the cleaning supplies away and dump the garbage. Twenty minutes later, I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen and wondering why I don’t feel any better.

Probably because it’s not just the nook and the bedroom anymore. The whole house feels empty without her in it.

I feel empty.

And I’m not so sure this is a hole I’ll be able to crawl my way out of. Maybe Redding was right. Maybe it won’t be so simple to leave at the end of the year. Maybe it’s not Taya’s feelings I should be so concerned about, but my own.

Chapter Fourteen

Taya

Ihaven’t snuckout of a house at one in the morning since I was a teenager. But after waking up to find myself curled against Jim in the window nook, my back pressed against his chest and his dick against my ass, I had to get away. Especially when panic slammed into me like a rogue wave as I recalled the photographers from the party. Jim would certainly ask questions once he woke, questions I’m not ready to answer. Questions that could get me kicked out of the program. But if those photos go public, my problems might come here.

So, I collected my discarded dress and shoes, ran up to my room, and texted Inara to ask if I could spend the remainder of the night at her place. I needed time to think without anyone prying into my past. Inara was more than happy to oblige, and when the door to Jim’s room clicked shut, I grabbed my gear bag and snuck out. God, I must’ve looked like the biggest ass pushing my bike down the street in the dark. But I didn’t need Jim running after me, cornering me, and making me confess about what I ran away from back in New York.

“How was the party?”

I glance toward Inara as we step over a log, shrugging halfheartedly and trying to hide my concern. No need for anyone else to know about what little I have. “The whole thing was very cliquey. I mostly kept to myself and ate.”

“Sounds like my idea of a good time.” She cuts her gaze to me, a thin brow arched. “I just wonder if that was all she wrote. You seemed pretty upset when you called me last night.”

Inara hands me her small thermos with coffee in it and I take it willingly. We’re high enough above sea level that the cold air still bites through the thermals underneath my cargo pants, shirt and jacket.

I snap a low-hanging branch with my free hand and throw it off to the side. “Eh, I was just a bit stressed. Not used to spending hours putting on some fake facade. This whole thing is still new to me, and I’m not exactly sure how to act. Plus, I wanted to get a head start, so I figured, why not sleep at your place?”

“Uh huh.” Inara faces forward and climbs up the hill, her fingers grabbing onto sturdy rocks to help hoist her body upward.

I suck in a breath, debating whether or not to tell Inara about the program and Jim. I need someone to talk to, but things between me and Jim are... complicated right now. As much as I want to talk to her about my situation and being Jim’s wife, it’s not right letting someone I barely know in on our relationship.

My mind wanders back to the party and, most of all, what happened after. I practically groan as I relive latching on to Jim when he came inside of me. Shit balls. No condom. Ah, crap. Jim’s gotta be freaking out. I should text him and let him know there’s nothing to worry about. I should be getting my period any day.

Come to think of it, now that I have health insurance, I should get back on birth control. Though, not sure if sleeping with my husband again is a good idea. Not if any of those photos are printed for general public access. I won’t allow Jim to become a target. Maybe Jim was right after all. Maybe annulling our marriage at the end of the year is for the best.

But I’ve never had an orgasm like that.

I came to you.

His final words to me make my lady parts clench, and I groan out loud. Inara eyes me questioningly, but I just smile weakly and ignore her curious expression. I could be groaning for a hundred different reasons, like, because this coffee is so freakin’ good. I hand the mug back to Inara, and she places it in her pack, continuing ahead of me.

Taking a deep breath, I pull in the familiar scent of pine. Though miles from the ocean, it feels good to be here, breathing in fresh air, putting a pause on life. The woods and ravines of Virginia remind me of the nature reserves back home. If I could shake the strange sense of homesickness that fills me every time I think about Jim, I might even be able to enjoy myself.

“Hey!” Inara calls, and I glance up the hill to where she is. “Stay focused. The air is getting thinner, and if you’re not careful, it’ll make you scatterbrained and confused.”

She isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know, but the reminder is a welcome one. My fingers tighten around the strap of my new pack. It cost me a pretty penny, but it’s worth it to have my own gear once again. When it comes to search and rescue, using the community gear is just as bad as sharing a mouthpiece during band class, so I bought new climbing equipment and rope as soon as I gotten my first paycheck from S&S. The solid weight of them is a comfort against my back, proof that I’m a step closer to putting myself back together.

We’re training on hi/lo angling today to practice rappelling off a cliff, and I couldn’t be happier. Today will be a training tutorial, a chance to remind myself of the basics after being on hiatus for so long. If I stopped playing video games for a while, I would start back up in training mode to reacquaint myself with the controllers and the combos. This is no different.

As I climb, I make note of the peaks and saddles to keep myself oriented. The rest of the group is up ahead and despite my best intentions, I keep lagging behind as thoughts of Jim play havoc with my focus. Thankfully, not everyone here is a stranger. In fact, I met a few of the men and women while milling about at a SAR conference in New York last year.

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