you care now, but eventually the fact I’m infertile will sink in and you’ll start to emotionally withdraw from me. I’ve lived this, Nick, I know what’s coming. I’m protecting myself and you’re not making it any easier, so please, please, stop being so good to me. I won’t be able to bear it when you leave me.”
“Leave you? Not happening, Em. My feelings aren’t going to change. No way. As for keeping my hands off you, not kissing you. The way I feel about you…can’t do it, babe. Sorry. I’ll try if you want, but I’m not making any promises. You’ve been there for me and I appreciate it more than you know. When my turn comes, I want to do the same for you. You decide. You want me with you then I’m there. Either with or without me, you need to make an appearance at that wedding.”
We spent another hour talking, and by the time Nick left I felt I could sleep, and I did for a full seven hours nonstop. It was the most relaxing sleep I’d had in weeks.
—
Tuesday afternoon I picked Nick up at the house, and together we drove to the counselor’s office. Although he tried to hide it, Nick was nervous. He sat on his hands in the waiting room, then got up and paced the area until his name was called.
“I’ll be right here waiting,” I assured him.
His eyes held mine. “I wouldn’t do this for anyone else. You know that, right?”
I assured him I did. Before he walked through the office door, he looked back at me just once and I saw the apprehension and fear in his eyes. Wanting to reassure him, I blew him a kiss, letting him know without words how glad I was that he’d taken this first step toward recovery.
While I sat in the waiting area for the next hour, I had time to think about the things Nick and I had discussed in the wee hours of that morning. He was almost a different person in the dark: relaxed, talkative, insightful, and witty. It was when he was forced into the light, surrounded by people, that he grew agitated and afraid. That was when he suffered the worst of the panic attacks.
An hour later he walked back into the waiting area. He didn’t look at me but headed straight toward the exit as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. Jumping up from my seat, I quickly followed him outside.
“How’d it go?” I asked, following on his heels, having trouble keeping up with him.
“Get me home,” he said. “Just get me home.”
Once inside the car, his knees started to bounce. I took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it on his upper thigh. He reached for it, squeezing my fingers tightly.
I’d hoped this counselor would help, but now I was afraid she’d made everything worse.
And Nick’s parents were coming that weekend.
This didn’t bode well.
I’d lost Jo Marie. I knew it the minute she mentioned this other man she was dating, but I had no one to blame but myself. I was the one who, in a weak moment, told her to move on with her life and forget about me. How very heroic and stupid of me. But then I’d lived a life full of regrets.
While I might have suggested she get on with her life, I hadn’t done the same. I hadn’t forgotten her, not for a solitary moment. Jo Marie was a part of me like a second skin. I did everything humanly possible to stay alive so I could get back to her. She was the very reason I’d managed to survive. She was the air I breathed, the very beat of my heart.
My everything.
Before leaving for Iraq, I’d actually enjoyed sparring with her. I’d often be purposely obtuse and found pleasure in unsettling her. After Paul she needed someone to shake her up, stir her emotions away from her grief.
That someone just happened to be me.
Jo Marie knew next to nothing about my past life and that was the way I wanted it, the way it had to be. When I’d started this little game, I didn’t have a clue I was just as badly in need of having my life shaken up. Falling in love with Jo Marie offered hope. And courage. It was because of her that I’d decided to make things right with Ibrahim. Hope, I’d learned, is a heady elixir.