Page 17 of Tony

“Life without pain, isn’t really living.”Where have I heard that? That was what she told me when she was in labor with Sofia.The memory washed over him as he thought back to the long, arduous labor. He hated seeing her in pain and had told her that he would take it all away if he could.She just looked up at me between contractions and said, “Life without pain, isn’t really living.”

At the time, he simply thought she meant that without the labor there would be no baby. But maybe, just maybe she meant more. Was telling him more. Was even giving him permission to live again, even if it opened him up to pain.

I want to try again, Marla. I want to try with Sherrie.He did not feel out of control. Panicked. Unsure. Instead, for the first time in a very long time, he knew what he wanted to do.Tomorrow,he vowed,I’ll start something new with her. Show her what I can be. What we can be. And treat her the way she deserves to be treated.

Sighing, he stretched his long frame on the sofa, pleasantly surprised that it accommodated his height. With his head on the arm, he lay with the photograph on his chest while staring at the fire. His eyes finally closed, falling into a troubled sleep.

In the middle of the night Sherrie quietly got out of bed to go to the bathroom. Not seeing Tony at first, she tiptoed toward the fire, seeing him asleep on the couch. Unwilling to disturb him, she turned to move away when a photograph on his chest caught her eye. She took one step closer, peering down to see a faded picture of a younger, smiling Tony with a beautiful dark haired woman holding a newborn baby.

Heart pounding, she felt sick as her mind raced. His hand, curled around the baby had a wedding ring.He was married. Married.Her thoughts swirled as she ran through the possibilities.He’d never leave his wife and baby which can only mean…oh my God. They must be…Not letting her mind accept the possibility that a young mother and baby could have died and what that would have done to a man like Tony, she numbly tiptoed back to her room.

A heavy weight pressed on her chest as she lay back down in the bed.A beautiful wife. A new baby. A smiling Tony.She rolled to her side, as a silent tear slid down her face landing on the pillow.

I’m a poor girl from a foster background with a dead, fucked-up druggie sister who had threatened his friends. I’m not good enough. I’ll never be good enough. It looks like he had perfect. I am nowhere near perfect.

Wiping her face, she realized that it was time to cut Tony loose. Time to let go of the idea of them together. Time to move on.

* * *

Tony woke suddenly, his military senses on alert. Not used to sleeping so soundly, it took a moment to figure out what he was hearing. Jumping up off the sofa, he caught sight of the photograph that had landed on the floor. Grabbing it, he slid it back into his wallet. Torn between feeling lighter than he had in a long time and knowing that something was not right, he glanced to see the bedroom door was open and then sprinted to the front door to see the noise coming from the outside.

Throwing open the door he halted, stunned at the scene in front of him. The snow was still swirling creating a winter wonderland, completely covering their cars. Sherrie’s suitcase was sitting on the front porch and she was…what the hell is she doing?

She was wrapped up in her coat, scarf, hat, and had tromped over to her car where she was attempting to rake almost a foot of snow off with her little scraper. If he was not so pissed, he would have been amused.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” he yelled.

She turned and looked at the angry man on the porch. Legs apart, hands on his hips, sleep tousled hair.Damn, this had seemed like a good idea when I got up.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she yelled back. “I thought I would try to clear my car off so that I could go back home.”

“Woman, so what if you clear off the car? The driveway and roads are still impassable. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Well, I’ll be ready when they are clear,” she yelled back.

“Then what’s your suitcase doing sitting on the porch?”

“Um…” she said, no quick response coming to mind.

“Get your ass back in the cabin right now,” he ordered, his irritation ratcheting up to anger.

“You can’t order me around,” she yelled, now feeling foolish. The snow was landing on her face, freezing little crystals that made her cheeks hurt. Glancing over at her car, the small amount of snow that she had scraped off had been replaced by a fresh layer.

Sighing heavily, she turned toward the cabin trying to step in snow that had drifted in small mountains that came to her knees. Two steps in, she lost her footing falling face first into a pile.

Grabbing his boots and sliding his feet into them, he headed down the steps toward her. By the time he reached her floundering form, she was pushing herself up. She looked up, extending her hand toward him.

Ignoring it, he scooped her up and toss her over his shoulder, giving her ass a slap in the process. Tromping through the snow, he carefully mounted the steps, snagged her luggage with his free hand and set it inside the door before kicking it shut with his boot. Walking over to the fire, he set her down and put his hands on her shoulders.

Bending down to her eye level, he said, “We’re talking about this stunt later. But right now, we’re getting you undressed and warm, then I’ll go whip up some breakfast.”

Pulling her gloves off, her cold fingers fumbled with the buttons on her coat. He moved her hands away and unbuttoned it, pulled it off and gently pushed her down onto the leather seat closest to the fire. Kneeling, he pulled her boots off and rubbed her feet to try to get some warmth back into them.

Standing, he looked down sternly and said, “Stay,” as he turned to walk into the kitchen.

“I’m not a dog to be ordered around,” she groused.

“Don’t push me, Sherrie. You pull another stunt like that and you’ll find your ass bared and reddened,” he barked from the other room.

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