Chapter 33 #2
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Isn't that what Tony said in the rig? It was easy to write it off when he said it, but what if it's true? What if this thing between us is real enough, strong enough, to be worth more than any career opportunity?
"Reid." Laine steps closer, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in her eyes.
"Six months ago, I would have been packed and ready to go before that phone call ended.
But I've been here for a while now, and I'd already started building what I came here to build when I met you. I didn't have this yet."
She gestures around us, but not at us specifically—at the life she's made here.
"I didn't have a favorite coffee shop where they know my order.
I didn't have friends who invite me to things next week, assuming I'll still be here.
I didn't have a place that feels like home.
" Her voice gets softer. "And yeah, I didn't have you either.
But you're part of the life I chose to build, not the reason I built it. "
Home. Christ, she feels like home to me too. Like everything I've been looking for without knowing I was looking for it.
"But what if you change your mind?" There it is. The thing that scares the shit out of me. The idea of this woman giving me everything and then walking away is the stuff of nightmares. "What if in a year or two, you wake up and realize you gave up everything for a guy you've known for four months?"
Laine's expression shifts, and I can see I've hit a nerve. But not in the way I expected.
Her hands plant on her hips. "Is that what you think this is about?" she asks. "Me giving up everything for you?"
"Isn't it?"
"Reid, I moved to Oregon to build a permanent life.
That was my choice, made before I ever met you.
" Her voice gets stronger, more sure. "I researched cities for six months before I picked Eugene.
I interviewed for this job, negotiated my salary, signed a lease on my own apartment.
I bought real furniture—not just the bare minimum, but things like throw pillows and plants.
I joined a yoga class for heaven's sake. "
She's right. I know she's right. All of that happened before we ever met. But it's easier to think this is all about me, isn't it? Easier to think I'm the reason she'd stay than to believe she actually chose this life because it's what she wanted.
"You did that," I say quietly. "But this Honduras thing is different. This is exactly what you used to do, but bigger."
"And I used to do it because I was running away from building anything permanent. Not because I loved the work so much I couldn't resist it." Laine's voice gets firmer. "Reid, do you know why I really became a travel nurse?"
I shake my head.
"Because that's what I learned service looked like.
My parents have spent their entire lives sacrificing, moving wherever they're needed most, never staying anywhere long enough to build a real home.
" Her voice gets softer. "I thought that's what it meant to help people—you had to give up everything, go wherever the need was greatest, never put down roots because that would be selfish. "
That stops me cold. I'd always thought she traveled because she loved the adventure, the variety, the impact. The idea that she felt she had to do it never crossed my mind.
"So when Dr. Parker called with this opportunity, yeah, part of me was excited.
It's meaningful work, and I'm good at it.
But the bigger part of me was terrified because I realized what he was really offering me was my old life back.
The one where helping people means sacrificing everything else.
" Her eyes are bright with unshed tears.
"I didn't work this hard to choose a different way of life, just to go back to what my parents think service should look like. "
She takes a shaky breath. "And the worst part? Part of me wanted to say yes because it would be easier. Easier to fall back into the pattern I know than to keep doing the harder work of figuring out how to help people while also letting myself have a real life."
I stare at her, feeling like an idiot. A complete fucking idiot.
"Christ, Laine. I got it all wrong, didn't I?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I saw what I expected to see. What I was afraid of seeing.
" I drag my hands through my hair, fingers catching on the tangles.
The words are right there, stuck somewhere between my throat and my teeth.
"When you got that phone call, I panicked.
Not because you lit up—but because I was terrified you'd realize what we have isn't enough. "
"Reid..."
"No, let me say this." I step closer to her.
Close enough to see the confusion written all over her face.
"I was so fucking scared of you choosing to leave that I convinced myself you wanted to go.
That way, when you left, I could tell myself I was being supportive instead of admitting I wasn't enough to make you stay. "
Laine's expression shifts—something like understanding cracking through frustration.
"So you decided for me."
"Yeah. I did." I'm such a fucking idiot. "I told you to take the job because it was easier than fighting for what I wanted and risking you leaving anyway."
She blows out a breath, her head dropping. "Reid, that's—"
"Fucked up? Yeah, I know." I lean back against my truck, suddenly exhausted. "You want to know the really pathetic part? I've been doing this my whole life. Whenever something matters to me, really matters, I find a way to let it go before it can disappoint me."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I didn't fight for my dad to stay after Mom died.
I told myself he needed space, needed to grieve his own way.
But really? I was scared he'd choose to leave anyway, so I made it easy for him.
" I look at her. "I didn't fight for Jared not to enlist. Told myself I was being supportive of his dreams. But I was terrified of him thinking I was weak for not wanting to follow him.
" It's true. "The military was never my dream.
And every fucking day I was enlisted, I lived in fear.
I did it for Jared. I did it for Blake. And I hated every minute of it. "
Laine's quiet now, just listening.
"And yesterday, when you got that call, instead of telling you how much I need you to stay, instead of fighting for us, I did the same fucking thing. I made it easy for you to leave so I wouldn't have to find out if you'd choose me anyway."
"Reid." Laine's voice is quiet. Careful. "You told me about a woman. After Jared. The one who left."
My stomach drops.
"You never mentioned her before. Not once."
"I know."
"Why?"
Because I was ashamed. Because I didn't want you to know how broken I was. Because I thought if you knew what I became, you'd leave too.
"Because I didn't want you to see that part of me."
"What part?"
I look away. The parking lot's empty except for us and the rigs. The sun's getting lower, throwing long shadows across the asphalt.
"After she left, I got dark. Really dark." The words come out rough. "I turned into someone I didn't recognize. Someone I didn't respect."
Laine doesn't say anything. Just waits.
"She was..." I blow out a breath. "She was the last thread.
After Jared died, I was barely holding it together.
And she was there, you know? Through all of it.
The funeral, the nightmares, the days I couldn't function.
I thought if she could love me through that, maybe I wasn't as broken as I felt. "
I can feel Laine's eyes on me, but I can't look at her.
"When she left that note, something snapped. I stopped eating. Stopped sleeping. Stopped being anything close to human."
I don't tell her the rest. The nights I sat in my car outside the apartment she'd moved into.
How I knew when her lights went off, when they came back on, who came and went.
The bottles piling up in my passenger seat.
The thoughts that got darker and darker until I couldn't tell the difference between love and something that would land me in prison.
I was one bad decision away from destroying my life. And I couldn't stop myself.
"Blake found me." My voice is barely above a whisper. "I wasn't answering his calls. Wasn't answering the door."
The memory hits me like a freight train.
I was sitting in the dark, phone in hand, her location glowing on the screen, trying to convince myself that if I just saw her one more time—
The door came off the hinges.
Blake stood there, chest heaving, and I'd never seen him that scared. Not when we were kids, and not when we were in combat.
He looked at me. At the bottles. At the phone in my hand.
And then he started swearing. Arabic first, then Pashto, then Spanish, then languages I didn't even recognize. Just a steady stream of profanity in every language he'd picked up across three continents while he crossed the room and sat down next to me in the filth.
When he finally ran out of languages, he just said: "Okay. We're done with this."
He didn't leave for three weeks. And when he finally went back to his place, it was only to pack. He moved in for good.
"He pulled me back," I say finally. "From the brink of something I wouldn't have come back from."
Laine's shoulders crawl up around her ears. When she speaks, her voice is soft. "That's why you two are the way you are."
"Yeah." I finally look at her. "He's the one who showed up when no one else did. He's the reason I'm standing here."
She steps closer. Her hand finds mine.
"I haven't been that guy in a long time," I say. "I thought I was past it. But this morning, when I saw your face on that call... I felt it again. That panic. That certainty that you were going to leave, and there was nothing I could do to stop it."
"So you tried to leave first."
"Yeah." The word comes out broken. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."
Laine's quiet again. Her hand is still in mine, but her brow is furrowed. We’re not out of the woods yet.
"I don't do this, Reid." Her voice is quieter now. Less steady. "I don't let people in like this. I've spent my whole life making sure I could leave before anyone else did. And then I met you, and I thought... I thought maybe I didn't have to do that anymore."
She looks away. Swallows hard.
"And then you were ready to walk away like it was easy."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
"It wasn't easy," I say. "Christ, Laine, it was the hardest thing I've ever done."
"But you did it." She looks back at me, and there are tears in her eyes now.
She's fighting them. Fighting to stay composed when I can see how much this is costing her, and it fucking kills me.
"This is the deepest I've ever let anyone in.
The most I've ever risked. And the first hard moment we have, you went straight to goodbye. "
"I know."
"Do you? Because I need you to understand what that felt like." Her voice cracks. "I chose to stay, Reid. For the first time in my life, I planted both feet and decided this was where I wanted to be. And then you tried to send me away."
I can't breathe. I did that. I did that to her.
"I'm sorry," I say again, but the words feel inadequate. "I was scared. I was so fucking scared of losing you that I tried to lose you first."
"That's not how this works." She steps closer, and her hand comes up to my chest, right over my heart. "You don't get to decide when I leave. You don't get to push me out the door because you're afraid I'll walk through it on my own."
"I know."
"Do you?" Her eyes search mine. "Because I need to know this isn't going to happen again. I can't be with someone who's always waiting for me to leave. Who's going to bail every time things get hard because he's convinced I'm going to bail first."
"It won't." I cover her hand with mine, press it harder against my chest. "I promise. I'll talk to you. I'll tell you when I'm scared instead of running."
"You swear?"
"I swear." I lean my forehead against hers. "Don't give up on me, Laine. I know I fucked up. But I'm trying. I'm going to keep trying."
She's quiet for a long moment. I can feel her breath on my face, can see the tears she's still fighting back.
"I called Dr. Parker back today," she says finally.
My heart stops. "And?"
"And I told him thank you, but I'm building something here that I'm not ready to leave." A small smile tugs at her mouth. "I told him I'm being selfish, and I'm okay with that."
The relief that floods through me is so strong my knees almost buckle.
"Christ, I love you." The words come out rough, but I mean them more than I've ever meant anything.
"I love you too." She goes up on her toes and kisses me, soft and brief. "Even when you're an idiot."
"Especially when I'm an idiot?"
"Don't push it."
I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her. She fits perfectly against me. She always has.
"So no Honduras?" I murmur into her hair.
"No Honduras."
"You sure? I hear the weather's nice."
She smacks my chest. "You're the worst."
"But you love me anyway."
"I must be crazy."
It's what she said this morning, before everything went sideways. Before I almost ruined the best thing that's ever happened to me.
"Yeah," I say, kissing the top of her head. "Me too."