27. Twenty-Seven #2
We’re both stunned by my anger. So much for not arguing. I don’t know even where my anger toward her comes from—she and Ruthie are the best parts of me. And yet, I am pushing her away.
Finally, she shakes her head with a knowing, tearful look. “My fault. Again. Got it. This was a bad idea.”
Then, she yanks Shadow’s reins and takes off through the woods, kicking her heels into Shadow’s sides for a strong canter. River shifts under me like a revving race car, but I’m not a good enough rider to follow suit.
“Whoa,” I say, struggling to hold him back. But the reality of my wife’s accusation hits me in a wild rush of fear and anger. Lena believes my distance and indecision are about Lauren.
“Fuck!”
I dig my heels into River’s sides, though he needs no encouragement. He takes off as soon as I stop resisting his antsiness. The ride is clumsy, too fast for comfort, and incredibly unsafe, but I reach the barn as she dismounts.
She puts up a hand. “If you can’t even understand my feelings, let’s wait for Dr. Reese—”
“No,” I return, sliding off River and not even bothering to gather his reins. The horses mingle at the mouth of the barn, attempting to eat grass between their bits. I stand in front of Lena, winded and angry.
“Lauren rejected me,” I say finally, unable to meet her eyes for the tears flooding mine.
“Six weeks after the IED. Two weeks after being honorably discharged. We were finally together, and the woman I thought I loved cringed when I took my shirt off. She could barely look at me. Couldn’t touch me—”
“Oh, God, Ben, I’m so—”
“Stop.” Tears stream down my cheeks, hot against my flushed face.
I meet her gaze long enough to see her agonized sympathy—a look I never want to see.
“Can’t you see why I wouldn’t want to tell you this?
That someone else found me repulsive, so weak and broken she physically recoiled? Does this make you feel better?”
“No, I’m heartbroken—”
“No, don’t do that,” I cut her off sternly.
“You want to know about Lauren, so here it is. She immediately apologized, saying it was only a reaction. But reactions are truth, aren’t they?
Love can happen in a moment and be destroyed just as fast. That’s what happened.
She did everything she could to fix it. But I couldn’t get past it. ”
I pause, trying to swallow the hard lump in my throat while forcing myself to keep going, to purge the toxic parts that have eaten away at me all this time, if only to satiate her.
“But the truth is, I didn’t want to get past it…
because six weeks earlier, lying in the sand, bleeding, burning, ears ringing, head pounding, sure I wasn’t getting out of there just like the guys next to me, I ached for what Lauren would go through, losing me, but…
I also felt fucking relieved. Expendable.
I didn’t want to go back. Didn’t want… her.
Then, I felt ashamed for not loving her the way she loved me. ”
My head droops, and tears fall, thinking about everything I went through then and all I put Lauren through, too. I square my shoulders, determined to get through this for Lena’s sake.
“When I was safe aboard the Blackhawk that rescued me, I vowed to return home and keep my promises. She’d waited for me, loved me, for ten years.
I wanted to do my duty and make her happy.
That’s why her rejection gutted me so badly.
Here I was, patting myself on the back for being so goddamned noble, and I was too fucked up for her.
Her rejection hurt me, but it also freed me—it took a lot of therapy to realize it.
That’s why she never heard from me again.
I knew I could’ve gone back to her. I still know it—you’re right.
But why would I give up the life I want for the one I didn’t?
I loved her, but something was missing. I never understood what until five years ago when fate and Alice Harvey brought me here. To you. ”
She reaches out, but I gently bat her arms away.
I don’t want to be touched or consoled. Another pause brings silence as I boil in a debate I never wanted to have, let alone like this—under pressure in the court of Lena’s anxiety.
But I also know there’s no getting around it, especially if she’s hellbent on believing there’s something between Lauren and me.
Lena stares up at me, eyes glistening with fresh tears for me. Her sympathy pisses me off— this is what I never wanted.
“What happened with Lauren still angers me. Not because I love her—I don’t.
But because…” My words sound haggard, like my mouth’s full of sand.
“You say the right things and put on your fake smiles and your busyness, but I know that one day you’ll look at me like she did…
not over my scars, but over something—frustrations over our communication or the burden I’ll become.
You’re already accommodating me at every turn and making decisions to suit me.
Goddamnit, Lena. See? This is why I never wanted you to know.
I want your truthful reactions, not your sympathy or accommodation.
It’s bad enough dealing with this shit and all the pressure over the job and my future— our future—without reliving it every time I look at you, too. ”
My index finger rises between us. “I won’t say this again—I don’t want to talk about it.”
Her riding boots scrape the brick walkway as she moves back, and her sympathy shifts into anguish. I’ve hurt her—again.
But somehow, I don’t care.
I gather the horses’ reins and move them into their holding stations. “I’ll take care of the horses—”
“Let me help.”
“No. Leave me alone.” I take a breath, already regretful about my anger, my tone, everything. “Please, Lena.”
Though it goes against every fiber of her overthinking, sensitive being, she does.