Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,280

of them.” My voice cracked, and tears dripped from my closed eyes.

“Oh, Jack.” Margot’s voice was splintering too. She held me tight. “That must have been horrible for you.”

I inhaled, regaining control. “You know what? It wasn’t. It barely registered. At the time, I remember feeling proud for doing what I had to.” The words were bitter in my mouth. “Later, after I got home, it hit me what I’d done. I was a wreck. I couldn’t talk to anyone, didn’t feel safe, couldn’t make myself feel normal. Every single minute I was just waiting for the retribution, you know? I was positive there was no way what I’d done could go unpunished. I wanted the retribution. I nearly brought it on myself.”

She hugged me even tighter, and I felt the trembling in her body as she wept. Kissed my shoulders, my head, my neck. Ran her hands over my chest and stomach, as if she had to reassure herself I was still here. “I’m so sorry. And I’m so glad you’re here. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I didn’t deserve her sympathy or her tears.

“Do you know how many fucking nightmares I’ve had about that woman?” I touched my thumb and index finger to the insides of my eyes. “She’s right there in front of me and I’m begging and begging her to stop, and she doesn’t. I wake up shaking and screaming.”

“Do you still have the nightmares?”

“Sometimes. For a while, they got better, after I went to the doctor. I started taking meds that would make me forget what I’d dreamt. I didn’t dread going to sleep so much. But I stopped taking them after Steph’s accident.”

“Why?”

“Because it was my fault.” I retreated into the truth that tortured me, repeated the words that haunted me. “‘Just as he has done, so it shall be done to him.’”

“No, Jack. You’re wrong.” She sniffed and sat up taller. “What you did saved lives, and it had nothing to do with Steph’s accident. You are not responsible.”

I closed my eyes. “It’s the only way I can make sense of it.”

“No one could ever make sense of a tragedy like that.”

“Sometimes I dream about the checkpoint, and it’s Steph driving the car,” I whispered. “In my subconscious, they’re connected forever.”

Gently she rocked me, her words laced with quiet sobs. “It wasn’t Steph, Jack. She was the love of your life, and you never would have harmed her. You made her happy.”

“I wanted to. God, I wanted to.”

“You did. And if she were here right now, I know she’d be saying the same thing to you that I am—it wasn’t your fault.”

I knew she was right—Steph would say that, and she had a thousand times in my mind. But I just couldn’t believe her.

“And she’d probably be angry that you blame yourself,” Margot went on. “She’d want you to forgive yourself so you could be happy again. Don’t you think?”

Of course she would. She’d stand right there and argue with me just like she used to. But forgiving myself would mean giving myself permission to move on, to be happy when I didn’t deserve it. I’d never make that mistake again. “I can’t.”

She rocked me again, her arms wrapped around me, her lips pressed to my skin. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “Have you ever told anyone about this?”

I hesitated. “Steph and my therapist knew about Iraq. But I’ve never talked to anyone about feeling responsible for her death until you.”

She let that sink in—both of us did. I’d just shared a part of me with her that I hadn’t shared with any other living soul. I wasn’t even sure why I trusted her so much, but I did. Again, I figured it had to do with her temporary presence in my life. It freed me to be my real self around her.

“I wish there was something I could do for you,” she said.

I exhaled. The truth was out. And while I didn’t exactly feel better or hopeful, I did feel less alone. I put my hands over hers on my chest. “You’re here. You’re listening. That’s something.”

“I am here. And I’m glad you told me.”

“I am too.” It was startling to realize I meant it. I hadn’t intended to reveal so much of myself, but it had been so long since I felt this kind of closeness to someone, the kind that compelled you to share your secrets.

She sighed as she leaned back again. “Want to hear something ridiculous?”

“Sure.”

“The entire reason