Chapter 16 #2
“I always see his eyes in my dreams. He was so scared. So young. Just a kid.”
“I’m sorry. Have you had this nightmare a lot?”
He hadn’t admitted that to anyone and didn’t really want to admit it to Jenna. It made him feel weak and vulnerable. He was a tough firefighter. A captain. This was part of the job.
Except this time he’d messed up.
Jenna set her hand on his chest. “You have, haven’t you? That’s why you’ve seemed so worn-out lately.”
He tore his gaze from her. “I see his eyes every time I go to sleep. So . . . I’ve been avoiding it, I guess.”
“Avoiding sleep? Oh, Ty. That’s not good. You can’t function without proper rest.”
“I don’t know what else to do. I’ve been jogging and working out more, trying to exhaust myself so I can sleep better. Nothing
works.”
Jenna’s stare burned into his face. “This isn’t your first loss. What is it about this one that’s so hard? His age? It must
be really hard to lose someone so young.”
His lips pressed together. He didn’t want to think about this anymore. Didn’t want anyone else to know his part in what happened.
Not even Jenna.
“Ty?”
“I don’t want to say.”
His heart was like a battering ram against his ribs. His mouth suddenly so dry.
She took his hand. “Maybe you need to tell someone. Get it off your chest. And who better than me, huh? Something’s gotta
give. You can’t go on like this.”
She was right. He’d almost fallen asleep at work last week. And he needed his wits when he was on a call. Another tragedy
could happen on his watch, and God help him if he was responsible. Still, the guilt made it hard. No one liked admitting failure.
She leaned in. “It’s me, Ty. You can tell me anything. You know that.”
He stared into her familiar brown eyes. She’d been a part of him since they were twelve. She wouldn’t think less of him. Would she?
He swallowed hard and dredged up the courage to admit the truth. “The night of the call I was at The Pearl with a woman named
Gretchen. I’d met her at the beach that week. It was just a first date. We were having a nice quiet dinner—until Marissa walked
in with a friend.
“She spotted me on the way to her table, stormed over, and confronted me. I was confused because I thought we’d had an understanding.
I thought I’d made it clear I wasn’t looking for a relationship. That we were completely casual. But she acted like we were
engaged or something. I tried to keep the conversation low-key, but she kept getting louder. It escalated. I tried to take
the conversation someplace private, but she resisted. Gretchen finally threw her hands up and left, wanting no part of the
drama. I couldn’t blame her. I was actually relieved when the town siren went off.” The moment replayed in his head and he
wished so badly he could go back and do it over.
“Go on.” Jenna’s eyes were soft and filled with compassion.
He drew a deep breath. “I read the text. Saw there’d been an accident on Church Street. I paid the bill and rushed out to
my truck and . . . headed straight to the station.” He could barely look at her.
When he didn’t continue she shook her head. “And then what?”
“Jen, I was at The Pearl. I had to pass right by Church Street to get to the station. Any other time I would’ve gone directly to the scene. But my
head was so full of Marissa and what happened at the restaurant that I totally spaced it. Don’t you see? If I’d stopped there
instead of heading to the station, Andre Wallace would be alive today.”
“Oh, Ty. You can’t know that.”
“He was bleeding out. I could’ve applied pressure, staunched the blood flow. That ten minutes would’ve made all the difference. It was my fault. I was distracted by a woman and that’s on me. I got divorced and had to go and make dating an Olympic event.”
“You were hurt.”
“And seeking distraction—that’s just what I got. And while the distraction might’ve helped me cope for a while, it cost the
life of an innocent young man. And I have to live with that.”
“It’s always easy to see things in retrospect. But we don’t have that kind of foresight as we move through life. We have to
make decisions based on what we know now. On what we’re feeling now.” She set her hand on his jaw. “A kid drank a few beers
and got in his car to drive home. He was impaired and he crashed his car. That’s not your fault.”
“But he didn’t deserve to die.”
“No, he didn’t. And you don’t deserve a life sentence of guilt. He was a kid who made a mistake. You’re a first responder
who made a mistake. We’re all human. Who can know why these things happen? But you can’t let guilt weigh you down for the
rest of your life. What good will that do? You have to let it go.”
His throat swelled like a balloon. “I don’t know how.”
Their gazes connected over the mere inches that separated them. “I don’t know if you remember, but I had nightmares after
my dad died. Terrible ones. I’d wake up in a cold sweat and be so afraid and panicked. It would take me hours to go back to
sleep.”
“I remember.”
“I wanted my mom so bad, but she was barely managing and I didn’t want to bother her with it.”
“So you told me about it instead.”
“And you were such a good listener.” Her thumb swept along his cheek. “We’ll figure this out, Ty. I’m not going to let you
drown.”
He drank her in. Her reassuring words, her resolute tone, her tender expression. And the weight he’d carried only moments before seemed to take flight.
Now he was only thinking about Jenna and how she’d always been there for him. Their senior year when Danielle had dumped him
and spread rumors about him—Jenna dressed her down in front of the whole cafeteria. Last year when he’d found out Britt was
cheating—Jenna drove back to the island and was on his doorstep that very night. And now here she was, reminding him his failure
wasn’t final.
He pressed his own palm to her cheek. He didn’t have the words. And even if he did, his throat was too clogged with emotion.
Instead he said it all with his eyes. You’re always there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Her expression offered compassion, grace, and affection. Her thumb swept over his cheek again, making each cell quiver with
life. Then she leaned forward, her breath whispering over his skin.
His lungs stuttered and his lips tingled in anticipation.
The kiss landed on his cheek near the corner of his mouth.
His heart thunked heavily to the bottom of his chest cavity. He could’ve wept with disappointment.
She drew away and made herself very busy with the seam of the throw pillow. “I—I should go. I have to be up early for a tour,
and the game—” She gestured toward the screen. “Well, it’s not exactly in jeopardy, is it?” Her chuckle choked off as she
rose to her feet and gathered her purse. “Plus it’s getting late and you obviously need some sleep.”
He stood, his legs a little unsteady.
She was at the door already and exiting by the time he got there. “Thanks for having me over. We’ll chat soon.”
He barely had time to say good-bye before she was down the porch steps.