Chapter Forty-Five Tyler #2
“Dwell in what’s broken for a while, so you finally realize the enemy you’ve declared war on is stronger than you.
None of us gets to play God, Tyler, and the woman you’re grieving never took Him as an enemy.
And do you know why? Because she knew fighting that battle would be pointless.
It’s past time you breathe that failure in, but while you do, put the oxygen mask on yourself for once.
How long have you been experiencing the symptoms? ”
Her eyes linger on my shaking hands before she darts them to the circles beneath my eyes. A ball lodges in my throat as she presses in. “Look at me,” she demands as the fury and exhaustion start to undo me. “You have to say the words—”
“I’ve been dissociating for long periods,” I release in a shaky rush.
“How long?”
“Months.” I close my eyes with my admission. “Seven consecutively before I met the babies.”
“Jesus, Tyler.”
“I couldn’t handle not knowing if she kept them. That’s why I was a fucking wreck by the time I got to her, and when everything came rushing in—”
“You went manic,” she finishes, and I slowly nod. “Sleep?”
“Two hours, max,” I admit as my truth starts to pour freely. “Less if I dream. I—” Defeat blankets me as I shed the last of my worthless armor. “I jumped out of my skin at the market yesterday when a freezer door slapped closed next to me.”
“Keep talking,” she urges, eyes filling with increasing worry.
“I clear and pace every room I’m in constantly, I c-can’t stop my mind from racing, and my temperament is—my anger is getting hair-trigger.”
“When did it start?”
Searching myself, I come up blank as more body aches set in. “It’s been a while. Too long.” Evidence of my failure glides down my jaw as I voice it. “I can’t maintain anymore.”
“Because you’re sick, my boy, and becoming sicker by the day without treating it.”
“I can’t see any way out,” I utter, “I can’t see anything anymore, Mom.”
“That’s the way bottom feels, immeasurable and daunting. The good news is, you’ll never be able to truly turn off how deeply you feel. No matter how smart you are. The mind and heart work together, not apart. Lift your eyes to me, son.”
I do, and see nothing but the unconditional love I’ve felt my whole life as she covers my ticking jaw with both palms.
“As long as I breathe, you’ll never be a lost cause to me.
I can be disappointed, but will never, ever believe you lost to me.
Take it from the woman who’s benefited most from the abundance of love you have to give.
You’re a lot of things, but far from the failure you feel like right now.
You’re human, and sadly, humans don’t get to snap their fingers and fix themselves.
That’s not how our asshole minds work, and you know it. Which means you have to do the work.”
“I feel broken,” I whisper roughly.
“When was the last time you felt alive? Who were you with?”
I swallow and nod. “And if she refuses to see me, hear me?”
“Ah, son, she sees you just fine. It’s her heartbreak doing the talking. And she’s done one hell of a convincing job on you, you whining fool.”
I manage a half grin. “Thanks a lot.”
“You know I’m right. When a woman has a child, that love supersedes any other. But no woman or mother, heartbroken or not, would allow a truly toxic man near her babies. Right now, she’s holding the shield for them and herself. A hard feat, which has me even more eager to meet her.”
“This is not some epic love story, Mom. It’s a fucked situation.”
“That’s your heartbreak talking. The question is, who is your heart truly breaking for right now?”
“I can’t love her … not the way I love Delphine.”
“That sounded more like a question to me, but only you can deepen or discard what’s there. And maybe you’ll never love anyone like you loved her.”
“Then what’s the point?”
She holds her palms up. “What’s the point of any of it?”
“A question that plagues me daily.”
“A question you answered with Delphine and held onto tighter than anything else in your life.”
“Can you please refrain from being cryptic and spit it out?”
“No. You have to do the work and let her go, so that you never forget the answer again.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re afraid you already are, and that fear is keeping you from living your life as you’re meant to.”
“With what I’ve done, I don’t deserve her.”
“Yeah, we’re done here.” She pulls me into her, her whisper cluttered with love and emotion as she speaks.
“If anyone on earth deserves to be loved for who they are, Tyler Carter Jennings, it’s you, no matter what you dig out.
And …” She pulls back and flashes me a smile, her ask clear before she speaks it.
“I’m an old lady, getting older by the minute—”
“Mom—”
“I want to meet my grandchildren before I have another birthday,” she rasps out, eyes spilling. “But more than anything, I want my boy back, so get to work.”
“What if he’s not there, no matter how hard I dig?”
“Your whole being is rejecting who your grief wants to turn you into, so I suggest you start digging there. But you don’t have to do it alone. Question is, do you want me to make the call? And before you answer, eliminate every bit of pride that just told you to speak on its behalf.”
Closing my burning eyes, all I can do is nod.
* * *
Stopping at the edge of the forest, I drop the stuffed duffel at my feet, surveying daybreak as I retrieve my snuff from my pocket.
Spreading my fingers over the can, I begin to pack it at my thigh, grinning when I hear the faint snap of a twig before I finally speak up.
“You know, man, as covert as you’re becoming—and you are, because I trained you well—I’ve been onto you since the minute you started your watch. Come on out.”
“Fuck,” he utters in annoyance as I glance back to see him emerging from the trees we were taking cover behind. His wary gaze tracing me carefully as he approaches, watching me pinch the shredded tobacco before packing it inside my lip.
“I didn’t know you dipped,” he queries, declining with the jerk of his chin when I proffer the can.
“Every once in a blue moon, and that moon looks pretty blue to me.” I nod toward the fading moon, which hovers over the tree line as morning rays begin to thread through the carpet of thick evergreens.
“But you’re right,” I add, catching his eyes as I pocket the snuff, “it’s rare, and you should know by now that beyond a few indulgences here and there, self-harm isn’t something I’m motivated to take part in.
” His eyes lower at my declaration. “Which means your watch ends now, and it’s time you start getting some decent shuteye. ”
“Tyler—”
“Look at me, Peter.” When he lifts his reddening eyes, my overdue apology comes easily. “I’m sorry my need to numb hurt worried you so badly.”
His pained grunt and fast exhales level me as I yank him into me.
Forehead pressed to my shoulder, his chest bounces with his silent cries as I utter another low apology.
“I’m sorry, man. This is on me, not you.
” After a few prolonged seconds, I pull away, keeping a firm palm on the back of his neck.
“And though favoritism is frowned upon in any outfit”—I manage a grin—“even she knew you were mine.”
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he croaks as I jerk my chin to stop him.
“You only wanted to protect me and did the only thing you could with your back against the wall, which was to defend yourself from a threat you didn’t know was there.”
“But if I hadn’t—” he starts.
“Stop, man, you’re missing the whole point of why I was pissed.
It’s because you literally thrust yourself in harm’s way when I made every effort to keep you from it.
” I blow out a loaded breath. “But that’s war, brother.
We can train for every contingency imaginable, but sometimes our hearts lead us into battle, leaving us heroes, martyrs, or worse, forgotten. That’s just the fucked way of it.”
He swallows and nods.
“But know this—with me, you would’ve never been forgotten. So don’t dare think I’m not fucking grateful his bullet didn’t pierce any lower.”
He sniffs, running an embarrassed palm over his jaw as I crack a smile to break the tension.
“But you idiot.” I shake my head incredulously. “You squared off with one of the most dangerous men in the mafia and missed by a country mile at close range with a literal fucking cannon in your hand.”
He shakes his head sheepishly. “Fuck, I know. I’m sorry, I just—”
“I accepted your apology the first time,” I interject, “just not in a way you could live with, and I’ll stay sorry for that.
But we now know you have the type of heart that leads you into battle, and that’s fucking brave.
Stupid but brave. So, maybe that’s where your fight is, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Now …” I eye the forest feet away. “Deer season just started, so let’s go shoot us a couple of bucks. ”
His eyes widen. “You packed the duffel for both of us?”
“It can’t be considered a tradition if you don’t do it annually,” I jest.
“True,” he grins. “Zach coming?”
His unintentional arrow lands squarely in my chest as I palm my neck, watching a trail of foliage float toward the ground between the trees. “I don’t think so. I left a message, maybe he’ll show.”
His eyes dim. “Fuck, I’m—”
“No more apologies, man. Let’s hunt.”
“All right,” he agrees before his worry wins. “But can I ask if, you know, if you’re okay?”
Grabbing the mental shovel my mother demanded I utilize, I give him raw honesty instead of my absent soldier’s standard reply.
“No, I’m not. Fucking far from it, but I’m trying to be, and I used to lie about that. Difference is, now I truly want to be for the first time since my wife died.”
His eyes widen at my admission.
“Yeah, I married her, and have been recently schooled that I’m dishonoring Delphine’s memory by omitting it.” I allow that pain to reflect, refusing my inclination to deny it. “It was—”
“Tonight is the best night of my life, Soldier.”
“It was perfect,” I manage around the ache as I dig deeper, feeling no relief.
“That’s … Wow, man. I can’t believe you never told us.”
“I’ve never been much for sharing, but you should know Delphine was … probably very different from who you thought she was.”
“That was obvious in the way you looked at her.”
The burn his admission causes mutes me briefly before I press through it. “Maybe I’ll tell you a few stories about her today.”
“I’d like that. I’ve always been curious.”
“So that’s the long answer; I guess the shorter one is, while I can’t get anywhere near okay yet—and it feels like fucking shit—wanting to be okay is good enough for now.”
“Good, because you’ve been through enough,” he states, the grudge in his voice clear for our common enemy—life. Peter’s issue with his dealt cards, which mirror mine. As does his need for control, stoking my fear of passing down my bad habits.
“You know that saying, ‘God never gives you more than you can handle?’ I think He overlooked us both a time or two in that respect. But all those tests do is remind me I’m not God and have no ambition to be. That’s a job I want no part of.”
“Me either,” he agrees, kneeling to grab a rifle before unboxing some shells.
“I think that’s why you’re my preferred company most days,” I admit as he pauses and looks up at me.
“You never pretend to be something you’re not, and I don’t want that to change.
” I blow out a long breath. “Take it from someone who wore themselves out meeting expectations that were never really fucking asked of him.” I scan the woods thoughtfully as I recognize that truth.
“I don’t know what in the hell I was trying to prove. ”
He nods, eyes dipping as I nudge him with my boot.
“And you have nothing to prove to any of us, brother. Being one of the best tactical thieves on earth is good enough of a fucking résumé, and that’s all we’ve ever needed you to be. You earned your ink like everyone else, no matter how you use it in the day-to-day. All right?”
He nods. “All right.”
“But”—I lower my voice—“if you’re ever feeling low and need an ego boost by comparison, just think of Jeremy.”
We both burst into laughter as he shakes his head. “He’s a jackass.”
“God is he ever, but good company for the gut.”
“Agreed,” he utters, stuffing his gun with buckshot.
“You know, two of the most valued people in my life have never raised a gun at an enemy. My mother and Delphine—neither ever had to point a gun to have a lasting impact.”
“Hate to point this out, but they’re both women.”
“Which makes them far superior to any swinging dick. So consider yourself in good company where I’m concerned. I’m not a fan of many of the men I know right now.”
“You deserve better, and I’m so fucking pissed they clipped you.”
“This is their way of trying to help me. I was pissed at first, but fear and pride haven’t done a bit of fucking good in my decision-making lately.
So I guess, as a man who needs control and currently has none, I’m as okay as I can possibly be.
Instead of dwelling on it, I’ve decided to make temporary peace to hunt bucks with you. ”
“Sounds good, but”—he secures his strap over his shoulder—“it’s kind of ironic you’re telling me I don’t have to raise a gun to be a man, and we’re hunting.”
“Ah, but that’s the whole point,” I counter, strapping my own. “It’s all about irony today.”
“Irony that I’m a shit shot?” he jests.
“Ironic that you’re the only man I want to be on any battlefield with for the foreseeable future, so—” I glance over to catch his amping grin. “Shall we?”
“Fuck, yes, let’s do this,” he rouses, falling in stride with me before we make our way toward the tree line.