Page 32 of Always You

Alex

I don’t knowwhy I asked to sit down. Until that moment, I’d been so good at maintaining my distance, holding myself back from bombarding Jazz with the hundreds of questions swirling in my mind. Where he’d been, what he’d gone through… how he’d survived on the streets.

And as for apologies, I had a list of them stored up, each one crafted over countless sleepless nights. But I knew laying them out between us, hoping for absolution, when none of this was about me, would be futile. No words could ever be enough to bridge the chasm of hurt and betrayal my actions had caused, so I’d tried so hard to be patient and respectful for his space. That was my job.

So, when I asked if I could sit with him, it was with a cautious hope he might be ready to share a little more with me. Despite how desperate I was to get back to the days of being friends, any chance of getting back there wasn’t about making grand gestures or declarations. Keeping my eyes on my bagel, I was aware of the space between us—both the physical gap and the emotional one.

Fuck, I hope that one day he needs me to make him smile.I used to make him smile in the most stupid of ways.

“Nice bagel,” he said after a pregnant pause, but he hadn’t tasted his yet and was slicing it into pieces.

“Fresh,” I added, because, yep, that was the level of my conversation.

“I need?—”

“I wanted?—”

We spoke over each other, and I waved for him to go first.Please go first because I don’t know what to say.

“I need to talk to you about Harper visiting. I mean, I assume that’s okay?”

Oh wow, that was a step. I knew he’d been emailing his daughter, but to have her visiting was something new, and my heart filled with the warm fuzzies. The vulnerability in his eyes suggested he had the usual worries I’d seen from veterans before. Would his family want to see him? With Harper, what would she think of seeing him face to face? How would he handle things? Would they hug?

“Of course, it’s okay. We have the family room, and procedures are in place to ensure she’s safe.” The safe part wasn’t only for Harper but for our struggling veterans who wouldn’t like strangers in the middle of things. It was why the family room ran on a booking system and had a separate front door from the main building.

Jazz stood abruptly, rigid with an anger that seemed to electrify the air between us. “I would never hurt her.” His eyes flashed with a mix of defiance and pain. Clearly, he thought I was accusing him of being a threat to his daughter, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

“No, Jazz, that’s not—” I started, my words tripping over themselves in my haste to correct the misunderstanding.

He cut me off, his voice low and fierce. “You think I’m so fucked up and out of control that I would hurt my daughter?” His accusation stung, a sharp reminder of how delicate our newfound rapport was, how easily it could fracture under the weight of past grievances and misunderstood intentions.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in my voice and find the right words to bridge the gap widening between us. “No, Jazz, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I just wanted to ensure you were aware of the procedures we have in place. It’s standard for everyone.” The tension in Jazz’s posture didn’t ease, but he didn’t walk away either, which I took as a sign to continue. “We have safety protocols to protect everyone involved, and no one on the team believes you pose a threat to Harper.”

He deflated. “Your team? You mean, you, the docs, you think I’d hurt her.”

“No! Jesus, it’s protocol, as much for you as any visiting family and friends.”

He winced, and I regretted my reaction; what the hell was I doing?

“I wouldn’t hurt her,” he repeated, his tone more controlled now, the edge of anger dulled as he sought reassurance. “Youknow that.Youknow me.” He collapsed back onto the chair, white-knuckling the table.

“Of course, I know,” I said to reassure him. Despite everything life had thrown at him, I still knew him in my heart. “Not one person on the team is worried that a visitor wouldn’t be safe in the family room with you. It’s just that we manage the zone carefully and with respect for our veterans and their families.”

Jazz nodded, and I kept quiet until he released his grip on the table and, at last, lifted a piece of the bagel to his mouth. He chewed, his earlier anger receding into a quiet contemplation.

While watching him, I couldn’t help but think that the fear of reuniting with his daughter must have been overwhelming.

“I overreacted,” he murmured after swallowing, his gaze locking with mine.

“No, I just didn’t explain.”

He grimaced. “I’m an idiot.”

“Same.”

He cautiously smiled at me, then focused on his plate and cut the bagel into even tinier pieces, making his plate a mess of cubes and curves.

“So, what didyouwant to say?” he asked me after the pause, but he didn’t look up at me.

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