23. Ed
23
ED
R ain splatters the window, cooling the air and curling the page of the note that’s been stuck on my window for the last three days. The note that says I’m Sorry in big block capital letters. The note that Avery hasn’t seen because her curtains have remained closed since our fight.
I watch her room for another twenty minutes, wondering what’s going on behind the curtains. She refuses to reply to my texts, but at least I’ll see her at my therapy session today.
It’s not how I wanted this to pan out. But it’s better we end this now than before it goes too far and we develop feelings for each other.
Too late, my heart whispers. I form a fist and thump it against the windowpane. I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for Jake’s little sister. That’s the last thing he would want.
But the last few days have hit me with the reality. I love her. I love Avery for her compassion and kindness and the way she looks at me like I matter in this world.
But if I think of a future with Avery, my mind comes up a big blank.
I bet she wants kids and a nice home, and those are two things I know nothing about. I don’t know how to be a father. I don’t know how to stick around. I don’t know how to give her the things she deserves.
You could try, my heart whispers.
My foot nudges the box of VHS tapes.
What if I tried and failed? What if I stuck around and gave Avery the things she wants and then couldn’t hack it? Like my mom couldn’t, let alone my father, whoever he was. What if I can’t handle the life Avery wants? All I’ll do is let her down in the end. It’s better that I leave now than leave later when there are kids involved.
The thought of Avery carrying my baby makes me ache in ways I’ve never felt before.
I never thought about having kids. I’m not father material. I never had one, and I don’t know how to be one. I never had a parent full stop. I have no right wanting things like that for myself.
I punch the window frame with my fist. It’s better this way. It’s better I leave now before things go too far.
Besides the fact that I’m responsible for her brother’s death, there are far too many reasons why I need to get the hell away from Avery Monroe.
I don’t belong in Avery’s world with her loving family. Jake left me the house because he knew I’d sell it and do good with the money. It will go towards the veteran’s center, all of it. That’s what Jake would want.
I jangle my keys in my pocket as I walk across the atrium of the medical center to the speech therapy rooms. I’ve written a note out to Avery explaining why I didn’t tell her about my plans to sell the house and leave.
To be honest, I have no good excuse. I didn’t tell her because I tried to fool myself into thinking it didn’t matter. I tried to fool myself that we were having a casual thing, and when it ended we’d thank each other for the good times and wave goodbye.
But she’s right. I’m a coward. I should have told her I was leaving. I just hope she understands why I have to leave.
I push the button and wait in the corridor with my foot tapping against the linoleum floor. I’m holding my breath expecting Avery, but it’s a different woman who comes out to buzz me through. She looks at me sternly, and I wonder what Avery’s told her.
“Mr. Turner. I’ll be taking over your treatment from now on.”
I frown at her and try to form Avery’s name. It comes out at a gargle, but she seems to know what I’m asking.
“Don’t worry, Miss Monroe has passed your file onto me and briefed me on your treatment plan. It seems you’re making good progress.”
I follow her down the corridor and past Avery’s room. The door remains closed, and I slip the note out of my pocket and slide it under the door.
Avery’s not returning my texts, but she won’t ignore a handwritten note.
An hour later I’m sitting opposite Joel in the cafe, working through the final details of how the auction will run in a few days.
The items are on display in the back room of The Landing, and we’ll run the auction from the bar on Thursday.
There are flyers up all around town, and his daughter has been posting in the local social media groups. We’re expecting a good turnout.
“It should raise us the funds we need to finish the rebuild.” Joel sips his coffee. “The demolition work is almost done, but I need laborers to help with the build.”
I shake my head and write on my notepad.
I’m leaving town after the auction.
I was going to wait until the house sold, but there’s no point in prolonging my stay here. It’s best I get away from Avery and the sooner the better.
Joel frowns. “So soon? How about the therapy?”
I’m making progress on my speech, but talking is overrated. I can get by with grunts and my notepad.
I don’t need to talk.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You sure about that?”
His gaze penetrates mine in a way that makes me feel like he can see every part of my twisted soul.
“Are you sure you’re not running away, Ed?”
I glare at him. That’s the thing about not talking. You don’t have to answer questions.
“Has this got anything to do with a woman?” The way he says it makes me think he knows exactly which woman.
I can’t hold his gaze, and I look away.
“She’s a sweet girl, Ed. Why the hell would you want to run away from that?”
How can I explain it to Joel? How can I explain the turmoil that’s raging inside me?
All that Joel knows of me is from my SEAL days. As a SEAL I could focus on each mission, focus on my teammates and taking life one mission at a time. Without that, I’m just another broken veteran with nothing to offer.
I look away, and he realizes he won’t get an answer out of me. Joel sighs and runs a hand over his face.
“They’re releasing some files about the incident that got you all blown up.”
I turn back to him, suddenly alert. Memories of that day flood my mind. Jake with his hand on the door. Me, seeing too late what he was walking into.
I scribble something on the pad.
It was my fault Jake went in there.
Joel shakes his head slowly. “You can’t think that way. You worked as a team. We all did.”
I didn’t see the grenade until it was too late.
I let him down.
I got him killed .
It’s the first time I’ve written it down. It’s the first time I’ve admitted it to anyone else. It feels like a burden leaving my chest.
It also feels vulnerable, like I’ve taken a chunk of my heart and laid it on the table.
Joel frowns at my words on the notepad.
“Is this why you’re leaving Avery?”
One of the many reasons but I just stare at Joel, willing him, at least, to understand.
He shakes his head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Ed.”
But how can I not? My best friend died that day because of actions I took. How can I stay in the town where he grew up? How can I live opposite his family and marry his sister knowing I did that?
Leaving is the right thing to do.
I’ll go hiking for a few months, then figure out what kind of work a non-verbal veteran can get. Somewhere far, far away from the family I destroyed.