‘Stop right there.’ He held his hand up. If Thea thought him incapable of getting upstairs by himself, then she was mistaken. ‘I’m not staying down here. I’ll get myself upstairs and I’ll sleep in a proper bedroom, shower in a proper bathroom. And you can cancel any damned stairlift. Now, which room can I use?’
‘You’re being ridiculous. You still need to recover.’
‘Which room, Thea?’
She harrumphed in displeasure, and despite his frustration he thought it was so old-Thea-like that it almost made him smile.
‘Fine. You can take your old room. I left it for you in case you ever decided to return.’
Ben frowned at the unexpectedly pointed comment. He felt as though he was missing something. When would Thea ever have wanted him to return? He narrowed his eyes at her, but she was already turning around, busying herself with rearranging the cushions of the couch. No, he had to be imagining it.
He inclined his head—redundantly, since she still had her back to him—and ducked out of the pretty living room. Climbing the stairs was still harder than he would like, especially with the added weight of his bag. He’d tried a short, slow jog around the hospital grounds the other night. Even though it had hurt like hell, it was still easier than climbing stairs, which tugged at the incision site on his back.
He reached the top landing gratefully. Would his room would be unchanged? As he’d left it? Did he want it to be? Or would he prefer it if Thea had worked her magic in there too, whisking away the memories of that last night together? Memories which had danced into his dreams over the years until he’d finally stuffed them away, locking them out for good.
He passed Thea’s bedroom door and paused, standing motionless in the hallway for a moment. If only things had been different. If only he had been different.
But he wasn’t different.
Shaking off the feeling, Ben moved to his own door and opened it. He was pleasantly surprised. Apart from the fact that Thea had taken away the old carpet, and sanded and varnished the beautiful floorboards underneath, as well as giving the place a dust and polish and a lick of paint, the place looked familiar. Fresh bedding lay folded on the clean mattress, and the empty drawer units smelled citrusy clean. When he opened the storage closet in the corner of the room he almost jumped as one of his old kit bags tumbled out. He’d go through that later.
Busying himself putting his few items away and grabbing a shower was unexpectedly satisfying, and it occurred to Ben that part of the problem was that he wasn’t used to having nothing to do. Normally, if he wasn’t deployed, he’d be on some adventure trip, learning new skills or honing old ones, or maybe planning training exercises and evaluating his men.
He felt bored—as if he was stagnating. He missed the exhilaration of successful trauma surgery, and his active mind was finding other areas to divert itself into. Dangerous areas. Like remembering their one night together. He couldn’t afford to do that. However he tried to spin it, he’d betrayed her trust, and he wasn’t the right man for Thea.
The dynamic between them had been irreversibly altered, and since a romantic relationship wasn’t an option after he’d left her that night he’d bunked at a mate’s house until he’d been shipped out. He’d been doing back-to-back tours ever since. Punishing duties in dangerous regions. Either he would pay off his dues or be killed.
His face twisted bitterly. Neither had happened.
Sometimes, in the beginning, Ben had wondered how things would have turned out if Daniel hadn’t been his buddy. Hadn’t been Thea’s brother. Hadn’t died. If he and Thea had been able to be together, would the whirlwind of that nig
ht have been sustainable? Would they have had the chance to explore a proper relationship slowly? In their own time? Maybe even got married for real?
He shook his head, as if to rid it of such pointless musings. Thea needed someone she could count on, someone she could trust, and he was neither. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to tell her exactly what had happened the night Daniel had died. All she knew was that he, Ben, been lauded like some kind of hero. Awarded a DSO—something which he certainly didn’t deserve.
But he hadn’t been able to bear to see either recrimination or pity in those dazzling sea-green eyes of hers. So instead he’d taken the coward’s way out. Staying silent on the facts surrounding Daniel’s death, and trying to make amends by fulfilling the promise he’d made to Dan. To provide her with a home, security and her education.
A gentle rapping on his door pulled him out of his reverie. Hauling the heavy wood open, he was surprised to see Thea in her coat and dressed to go out.
‘Sorry, I didn’t know if you were sleeping. I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out, I’ve got a twenty-hour shift starting soon. I’m going in a bit early, and I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.’
Twenty hours of focussed work to occupy the mind. That sounded really good right about now, Ben thought enviously. And he could understand her eagerness to leave the house early. This wasn’t the easiest of arrangements.
‘Sounds good.’ He nodded. ‘What is there to do around these parts these days? I might need something to do tomorrow.’
‘Not a lot, to be honest’ Thea pulled a face. ‘Since you’ve gone all superhero maybe you could try the park. Or there’s a little coffee house in the village up the road.’
Ben didn’t answer. He’d deserved that. Instead he tried to smile and make it into a joke.
‘So, what you really mean is, I have another day of nothingness to numb the brain.’
‘Sorry.’ She shrugged, moving quickly across the hallway to the stairs.
Feeling even more deflated, he exhaled heavily and closed the door again.
Tap-tap-tap.
‘I thought you’d gone?’ This time his smile was less forced as he opened the door. She was doing that lip-chewing thing again.