She breathed. Once. Twice. Willed the tears away. In a small voice, she pressed on. “He was my first love, my first...everything.”
He stroked her face with tender fingertips, the rasp of his calluses so gentle. “I’m sorry for your...loss? Loss seems like such an inadequate word.”
“Loss... It’s a fair word. One I understand well.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was a military wife. I am the mother of a special-needs child. Those two things alone put my marriage under tremendous stress.”
A lifetime flashed before her eyes. All the hardships that came with the military life. The disruption of daily life—their routines that had to be started and stopped continuously.
“You and Jeremy had problems?”
“Long deployments. War scars. A child with challenges. Yes, my marriage was going through a
rocky patch, and that broke my heart. His, too, I believe. And we both felt helpless to fix things.” Natalie released a shuddering breath, the air almost punched free by pain. The aftershocks of his death rocked her still. She knew they always would.
How could they not?
“And then he was deployed again,” Max offered, filling in the gaps of the story.
She shook her head, lips thinning to a line. Eyes closed, she willed her tongue to form the words she scarcely uttered. “He volunteered to go.”
“He did what?”
“He voluntarily went on this deployment. He said time apart would be good for us...and now he’s...” The word couldn’t come out, became lodged in her throat. Threatened her ability to breathe.
“You can’t possibly blame yourself.”
A bitter laugh accompanied by another wave of threatening tears. She swallowed, finding her voice again. “I understand intellectually, but I’m human. I can’t help thinking if he hadn’t been trying to put space between us...” She pushed her hair off her forehead. “And then there were the bills from all the specialists for Colby. Deployments come with hazardous-duty pay.”
“Sounds like you both had a heavy load on you.”
“Sometimes, in my darkest moments, I wonder if he was distracted...or worse, if he put himself in harm’s way.”
“You think he could have been suicidal?”
She shook her head emphatically. That was a possibility she couldn’t bear to entertain and could never know for certain. Still, she found herself whispering words she’d never said to anyone. “I don’t think so. But grief is irrational. We weren’t communicating. And if in some flash of a moment he thought insurance money would... God, I can’t even say it, it hurts too much.”
His voice lowered an octave. “I wish there was something I could do to ease this pain you’re carrying around.”
And just knowing that he wanted to comfort her...that meant so much. A tiny piece of her grief unknotted for a moment.
“Just having you listen helps. There’s no one here I feel comfortable telling.” She cradled her head between her hands, her voice breaking. This secret—this knowledge—weighed her down every day. She’d had no one to speak to about this. Not her friends. And certainly not her parents, who already blamed her for making poor decisions in regard to her marriage and family.
“I’m glad you feel you can talk to me.”
“There’s a connection between us.” She watched his eyes lift. “I realize that... What? You’re surprised I would say that?”
“Yes, I am. I know about this...draw between us, but your standoffish vibes have been strong.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. “At least they were until tonight.”
“I’m trying to move on. I want to move on. But it’s easier said than done.” She rubbed the spot where her wedding ring had been.
He touched the bare spot. “Seems to me that you are taking steps forward with your life.”
“You’re just saying that because you have me naked.” She tried to lighten the moment, lighten her heart.
“I’m talking about your B and B, the dresses you make, your incredible kids and even that funny, sweet dog you’re having trained. From where I’m sitting, you’ve got life locked and loaded.” He leaned forward. “And yes, you’re here in bed with me. Beautifully naked.”