Chapter 157
1075 Words
“Anyway, I felt safe in the closet, and I felt safe in the kitchen. It was… my domain. You know? My home turf where I had total control. And I could just focus on small things: ingredients, steps in recipes, individual dishes. I could handle all of that. It was soothing, and it was like being home.” She shrugged. “I took two months off to get over the worst of the physical injuries, then I went back to work. The story that my parents and I put around was that I’d been in a car accident. That explained the bruising and my limp.”
“And that’s why the press never got a hold of it?”
“Partly. Also, remember, it never went to trial.” Her eyes were cold. “It was all plea bargaining and deals between lawyers. I wasn’t a reliable witness, and the four guys all turned on each other, and it was a mess. The DA just did the best he could, and it all went away pretty fast. The whole thing was resolved before the last of my bruises had faded.”
Chris shook his head, mute.
“And I was actually really fine at work right after. I worked like crazy – anything to avoid going home and having to face everything – and before I knew it, the restaurant was doing amazingly well. And it’s been great ever since.”
He ran his hands over her shoulders. “And being around men at work? It’s OK?”
“I have no real problem being around men in public,” she said slowly. “The struggle is when I’m one-on-one. When I’m alone with one man, it feels too – close. Immediate. Harder to get away and impossible to hide. Way scarier than a large group of men at a table, for some reason.”
He lifted her chin and kissed her, his mouth lingering on hers. “You’re amazing.”
She blushed. “Thanks.” She smiled up at him. “So… can I ask about you now?”
“Sure you can. My life’s an open book.”
“OK. How’d you end up in the military?”
“Because no way my family could afford to send me to college. I enlisted to get an education, but before I could finish, I was sent off to train as a Ranger.”
“Why’d you want to be one?” she asked. “Isn’t that some of the most intensive training out there?”
“Oh, yeah. But I wanted that training, that discipline. I’ve always wanted to be excellent at something, but I never found that at school. I mean, I was a good student, but not a great one.” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “All I was ever really good at was fixing cars and bikes.”
“Who taught you?”
“My Dad has his own garage. And I learned a lot on my own, just messing around with junk cars at the weekends, and my shop class at school was pretty good.”
“So why didn’t you start working as a mechanic right out of school, then?” she said.
“Oh, I thought about it. But I was physically tough and strong, and I really wanted to do – more. Something bigger. Being selected for Ranger training was something I’d never imagined I’d be asked. To be invited into something that elite? Me? The mechanic’s kid from Jasper, Vermont?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I get it.”
“So I got through Basic and I got through Rangers and I got through Afghanistan. Not unscathed, of course. But… I got through.”
His voice was hollow.
She looked at him now, alarmed at the look on his face. “Chris? What happened over there?”
He focused on her now. “Oh, Jenny. So many things happened over there, so few of them any damn good.”
Jenny ran her finger over his lips. “You want to talk to me about them?”
“No, baby. No.” He shook his head. “What we’re doing here isn’t about me, right?”
“Why not?”
He paused. “What?”
She sat up. “Why is it always just about me? What about you?”
“Because… because…” He fell silent.
Because if I start to talk, everything's going to spill out, everything about how I feel about you. And you can't handle that, Jenny. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“Maybe it’s time for us to talk about the link between physical closeness and emotional closeness.”
He blinked at her no-nonsense tone. “OK.”
“I love being close to you, like this.” She kissed him. “I love touching you, giving you pleasure. We’ve been sleeping in the same bed for a month now – usually with you completely naked, I might add – and I’ve loved every second of it. And you just said that you like touching me.”
“I do.” His voice was rough. “I also like sleeping with you.”
“But I want to be emotionally close to you too, Chris. I want to – talk to you. And I don’t mean that I do all the talking and you just listen. That’s part of it, yeah. But that’s only half of it, I think. I want to know you too.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do.” She smiled at him. “I like you. And the more time we spend together – and I don’t just mean in bed – the more I like you.”
“You do?” he asked again.
“Yes. I do.” She lay down and curled up against his side. “So… talk to me, OK?”
He took a deep breath. “OK.”
“So… what do you want to tell me?”
“About Afghanistan?”
“About anything.”
Chris was quiet for so long that she started to wonder if he’d fallen asleep. Finally, he said, “A man died over there because I made a mistake. A good man. A father. He died, and it was all my fault.”
Jenny propped her chin on his broad chest and looked up at him. She waited.
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