Page 82 of Yes No Maybe

A light smile plays on her lips. “Good. You should hold on to him as long as you need.”

Tears flow heavier now like she’s granted me permission to feel normal. And I do—for the first time, I think. It’s as if all the shit I went through with Devin prepared me for her. I couldn’t be the guy she needs now without understanding real suffering, real pain. She gets me and trusts I have at least half a chance of getting her. Every word she gives me ties us closer together, tightening the threads of our connection.

But her story isn’t over. A quiet moment later, I ask, “In the kitchen… how did it stop?”

“Mom came home.”

“What happened then?”

“Mom was an Army colonel at the time, a division chief. She shot him with her service weapon.” Her shoulders pop up twice in quick succession, like she hears the gunshots in her head.

“Dead?”

“A man attacking her daughter in her own house? Yes. Dead. She didn’t even warn him.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. Apparently, he was on drugs, pissed at something that had happened at work, and maybe still angry over the breakup—there was a lot of conjecture after. In the news. With the police. With his family. Not that it mattered to me. Reasons and excuses couldn’t heal me faster or take away the damage. I felt like my life was over. It was for a while… But that’s another story.”

A long silence ensues. I wrestle sharp feelings—hatred for Richard Warren Linkous the third, agony over her pain, but, above all, love for this incredible woman who rises above it every day.

I wipe my eyes on my shirt sleeves. Then, standing, I reach for her, and the second she drops her hand in mine, I pull her into my arms. She fits me perfectly. Head against my chest, she relaxes there, just as she did the night of the party.

“I wish we’d been friends then, too,” I whisper into her hair as I hold her.

A deep breath seems to release what’s left of her tension and anxiety, as if she’s expanding the tight bubble she usually keeps around her, giving her more room to breathe. “You’re right. I feel better.”

I edge away to see her face and run my fingers along the goosebumps on her arms. “I can’t take away what happened or erase the pain. Hell, I’ll never even understand what you went through, still go through. But I’m here. And every day from now on, I’ll be here, loving you, wanting you, hoping to make things better.”

“Youhavemade things better.” A light shrug precedes her weak smile as she pulls away. “But trusting you with this is all I have to give you right now. Today has meant so much to me. I never thought someone like you… I wish things were different.”

“Thingsaredifferent. It’s just a choice, Rowan.”

“It’s more than that. It’s me at a crossroads I didn’t expect, and desperate to do what’s right. I need you to trust me, Jack. I’m glad we had today, but I need you to stay away for a while.”

“What? Why?”

“You know why.”

Her voice shakes again, and her body tenses. My fingers tighten against her back, holding her in place. She cups my damp cheeks with trembling fingers, and for the first time in all of this, tears speck her eyes.

“Jack… something about you strips me bare… and that’s hard for me. And unfair to Dean. Please, promise me you’ll keep your distance until I’m… ready.”

Ihatethis plan. Every nerve in my body pulls to her like a damn magnet, now more than ever. Distance is torture when what I want is to scoop her up, carry her home, and wrap myself in her for as long as humanly possible.

But I can’t deny her anything, either.

A weak nod makes my hair fall over my creased brow. “I’ll be waiting.”

My fingers drag over her as she pulls away.

Twenty-Seven

Rowan

IfeellikeI’vebeen living under a huge chandelier hanging by a fraying rope that barely holds it in place. I’m not only spotlighted by my trauma, but it hangs over me, threatening to crash, keeping my shoulders scrunched and my head low. Strangely, sharing it with Jack edges me out from under it. I breathe easier, knowing that should it fall, I have a better chance of being pulled to safety because now he’s there with me.

As an educator who studies analogies, I get that’s a weird one.

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