Page 21 of Tony

Standing, Sherrie picked up her wine glass and walked to the kitchen. Rinsing the glass out, she put the cork back in the bottle and placed it in the refrigerator. It had felt so good to talk about Charisse. To let go of the guilt and allow grief to progress normally.Tony did that for me. But he can’t do it for himself.

She saw the look on his face when she asked if he let go of the past and knew what the answer was. He had been closed off for so many years she wondered if he even knew how to start living again. Heaving a huge sigh, she left the kitchen and stood for a moment watching him stare into the flames. She could see why he was good on missions...she could not even see movement from his breathing. But she knew he was breathing. And thinking. And hurting.

“Goodnight, Tony,” she said softly, almost afraid to speak and disturb his thoughts. “I hope you sleep well.” With that she turned and walked to the bathroom. Finishing in there, she moved into the bedroom. Slipping into her pajamas, she stood at the dresser brushing her long hair, exhaustion beginning to overtake her.

“I was married,” came the deep voice from the doorway.

Her gaze saw him in the mirror as her hand halted the progress of the brush. She stood frozen, eyes locked on the reflection. Indecision was written on his face and she was afraid to speak. Afraid to break the spell he had woven around himself.

“I was overseas. Special Forces. I got to come back between missions when she went into labor. Made it just for the last few hours before our baby was born.”

Silence.

She slowly lay the brush down and turned to face him, no longer wanting to see him only through the mirror.

“We had a baby girl. Named her Sofia. After my grandmother.” Another flash of pain crossed his face. “So perfect. So tiny. Never been around babies, so I had no idea how she’d fit in my hand.”

He shuffled his feet momentarily as though the memory caused physical discomfort.She wanted to offer that they sit down, but was afraid to interrupt the moment.

“Spent a week at home. A week with my wife and baby.” He rubbed his hand over his face and continued, “Went back and celebrated with the men.”

His eyes sought hers, gauging how much she wanted to hear. She had no idea what expression was on her face, but she wanted everything. She wanted him to give her everything. All of his pain. All of his memories.

“Had a mission and when I came back, I was called into the office with the news. Car accident. No one’s fault. Just a fuckin’ car accident, and they were both gone.”

“Oh, Tony,” she whispered, her heart aching for him. She wanted to go to him. Touch him. Hold him. But she held back, not knowing what he needed.

“All my men came back stateside with me. Made arrangements. Had the funeral. Helped with everything. Then…we went back to Afghanistan. My life here was over and my country still needed me.”

“Your men followed you when you left the Army, didn’t they?” she asked.

“Yeah. Most of us were discharged within six months of each other and some of them followed me back and joined my company.”

She walked over slowly until she was standing right in front of him. Reaching down, she took his hand, holding it tenderly. Raising her head, she saw a single tear slide down his cheek and she lifted her other hand to gently wipe it away.

“So, this is me, telling you, that no…I haven’t let go of the past that constantly hurts my heart.”

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, letting him know that she was still there…even if he can never be mine.

This time, he squeezed back and her eyes sought his again. “But I want to,” came the simple words from his heart.

He saw the questioning expression wrinkle her brow and with his free hand, reached up to smooth the lines.

“What I’m saying, Sherrie, is that I want to remember the good times and learn to let go of the hurt. For so long I didn’t want that. They were gone, my little girl would never grow up,” he choked out. Clearing his throat, he continued, “So I wanted to be miserable too. I wrapped my grief around me like a blanket. As long as it was with me, surrounding me, they’d be with me. But the reality is that they aren’t with me.” Sighing deeply, he continued, “But now…I don’t. I don’t want to be miserable.”

“Maybe,” she said softly, “We can help each other.” She added hesitantly, “Even just as friends, if that’s what you need.”

A tiny smile appeared on his face as he pulled her a little closer. “Sherrie, you’re the only woman I’ve ever been interested in since…Marla. I’ve tried so hard to not be attracted to you. To not want you. Hell, to not like you. But I’m tired of fighting the feelings I have.”

By now, he had slowly pulled her closer so that his arms wrapped around her body. He rested his head on the top of hers, noting how perfectly she fit. Heartbeat to heartbeat, they just stood in a doorway of a cabin in the middle of snow covered woods…grieving and letting go, together. He letting go of his fear of loving again and she letting go of her insecurities.

She knew it would take time,but if he’s willing, then so am I.Sherrie had no idea how long they stood there, but she felt him gently push her away.

“I’m sorry. You’re standing here in bare feet and your pjs. You need to get in bed and get warm.”

She eyed the big, comfortable bed, thinking of lying in it with him. Comfort. Warmth. Caring. Leaning back, she asked, “Will you come to bed with me?”

He smiled, answering, “As much as I would love crawling into bed with you, I want to do this right. And jumping into bed with you just because we gave in yesterday, isn’t what I want to do.”

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