Page 115 of Family Bonds- Garrett & Justine

“I messed up, Justine. I already said that, but I’m not going to go to work with us fighting like this. There is more to say and I want it said.”

“You were pretty clear,” she said. “You didn’t tell me because you didn’t know where I stood.”

He wasn’t wrong with his words.

It hurt to hear them, but sometimes things just hurt in life.

Something she was learning the hard way this year.

“It came out wrong in my anger,” he said.

“I don’t think it did,” she said. “I think you’ve been sitting on that little bit for a while and watching your words so that you didn’t feel as if you were pushing me for fear of pushing me away. Right?”

His eyes searched hers. “Maybe.”

“See,” she said, pointing her finger. “Intentional.”

“Come on, Justine. There is no winning here and you know it. You’re mixing two things up. If I told you I wanted to stay on the island then it might sway your decision. Can’t you give me some credit here? I told you I could do either, so it’s not much different than you not knowing. You need to make your decision for yourself and not what I want.”

“No,” she said. “That isn’t right and you know it. You want to be here. I can see it in your eyes. I can see you are more relaxed and I’ve heard it enough from your family members. I can see it because in the short time I worked in Boston, I’m feeling it here too. But what I needed to know was more of what brought you here. It’s more than the three deaths. It’s because you were a cancer patient too. That’s important and you didn’t share it.”

He stopped for a moment. “What are you feeling?”

She wasn’t going to push him right now on her comment even though she wanted to.

“Life is just different here. Boston is crazy and fast-paced. More than I was used to before. I guess I had a mixture back home, but here, as much as I’m working, I don’t feel as if I’ve got no life. That all I do is eat, sleep, and go to work.”

“Because of me?” he asked.

“That is part of it,” she said. “You have to understand. Right now, I can’t make a decision in my life based on a few months of a relationship with someone. I saw the things my father went through. The choices he made and stuck with. He should have divorced Elise, but I think he didn’t want to feel like a failure again. So he pushed through it and maybe stuck his head in the sand.”

“Don’t compare that to us,” he said. “It’s only going to piss me off. Neither one of us is a drunk or has done anything in our lives even remotely close and you know it.”

She’d never seen him angry like that. Irritated or frustrated, but the look in his eyes now was more intense than ever before.

His eyes were narrow, his stance was tense.

He’d always been so patient and now he wasn’t.

She’d never been with someone like that and wasn’t sure how to handle it.

But she would not back down either.

This was too important to let go.

“Fine,” she said. “I won’t. My point was, you just don’t know and if you are going to make some long-term decisions and choices, you want to be as informed as you can be. And I haven’t been with you as much as I thought. Or you haven’t been with me.”

She saw his eyes fill a bit. Anger she could handle better than hurt.

“Seriously? Me having cancer as a kid is a deal breaker for you?”

“No!” she said. “What kind of monster do you think I am?”

He threw his hands up. “Justine. I don’t know. Your reaction to this is part of the reason I haven’t said anything yet. Do you know how many women I’ve dated who have found out and wondered if something about me was altered because I didn’t have a thyroid? That didn’t understand what it does to your body and just thought, oh, it’s hormones. So are you going to be someone who is unpredictable? Or not be able to have kids? Not be able to get it up or have sex at times?”

“That’s stupid,” she said, frowning. “And not me. I understand it and that is why I’m bothered. You know I understand those things too.”

“Fine,” he said. “You do. But let’s call it PTSD then. It’s hard to get past being the kid in middle school having cancer, surgery on their neck, and going to school with bandages or scars. I got called names and talked about behind my back. You moved because you didn’t want to be talked about or listen to your father being judged, try being a kid with that going on.”

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