Chapter 43
Quinn
C assie looks like she’s gone into shock.
She’s pale, and I plead with her to sit down, and thankfully she does. But I know it’s not because I just asked her to. Her legs look like they’re about to give out from under her, and sitting down is a preferable alternative to falling down.
I keep talking before I lose her altogether.
“It was only by chance that I was even here the day Jeremy came in,” I explain quickly.
Cassie’s got her head buried in her hands, but I know she’s listening to me with the way her shoulders just fell at the mention of Jeremy’s name.
“The guys and I had been in Seattle for a week, playing at Bumbershoot, but we wrapped up a day early, and…anyway, Jeremy came in right at closing, asking if I could fi t him in for a tattoo. He was wearing his fatigues. He told me he was on his way to the airport to catch a flight to the Middle East. I told him that of course I could do it, and I got him seated and set up.”
I drag a weak hand over my chin when Cassie looks up at me. And the pain in her eyes, it feels like someone just cut my chest open with a blade.
Her voice is heavy with emotion. “He never told me he was getting a tattoo.”
“Jeremy said that he wanted to surprise you with it when he got back.”
“You spoke to him about me?”
“The shop was closed by the time we got started, Cass. When it’s just two guys and a tattoo gun, something’s gotta fill the silence. He wanted your name tattooed over his heart because he wanted to take a piece of you away with him, and he wanted to bring a piece of you back with him.”
Clutched in Cassie’s hand is the sheet of paper from the printer. She’s squeezing it so tightly it looks like it’s about to disintegrate.
“I was just trying to make things better,” I say softly.
“Better for who?”
“For you. And for Jeremy.”
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A long sigh escapes me as I drag my fingers back and forth across my lips. I don’t know how to make logical sense out of what I did, but I know I owe her an explanation.
“The day Jeremy came in here…like I said, we got to ta lking, and he told me things about you, about the two of you, about your relationship.”
Fresh tears well in her eyes. “What kind of things?”
“He told me about how the two of you had a disagreement right before he left the house. He said he felt terrible about it because he knew it was his fault. He said he knew he should have told you sooner about his deployment, but he couldn’t stomach seeing the sadness in your eyes.”
I hesitate, gauging her reaction. Her shoulders are softly rounded, as if she’s trying to protect herself.
I continue, trying a different tact. “Did you know Jeremy carried a photograph of the two of you in his wallet?”
She nods. “It was a photograph from the photo booth on the night we first met.”
“He showed it to me, the photograph. You looked so happy, both of you looked so happy, and he gushed about how beautiful you looked that night and how you became his entire world. He loved you so much, Cassie.”
She sinks down into the seat.
“Jeremy told me about the night he met you and how you gave up so much for him by following him to New York. He told me about everything…the house he wanted to buy for you, the puppy you wanted, all of it. He told me about your wedding plans, and the dress you really wanted to buy from some expensive boutique, the one you knew you couldn’t afford, but jogged past the store every day just to stare at it in the window.”
I might be encroaching on dangerous territory here, but I want to get it all out before I lose the courage .
“I know I shouldn’t have done it, Cassie. I honestly do. I should have just minded my own damn fucking business and just got on with my life. But when word came through that Jeremy had been killed, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about that photograph, and I couldn’t stop thinking about everything Jeremy had told me.”
I hesitate, take a deep breath. I’ve wondered over the years if this day would ever come. Now that it’s actually here, bitter regret wages a battle inside my head.
“I tried to imagine how much pain you must have been in, Cass. I put myself in your shoes, but I couldn’t fathom just how devastated you must have been. Jeremy was gone. Forever. And writing that letter to you was the only thing I could think to do to give a little part of him back to you.”
“But…the letter arrived—”
“I know, I know. I’m not proud of myself, for sure, but I know people who know people. I’ve been tattooing veterans and servicemen for years, and I called in a couple of favors. A guy in mortuary affairs was contacted, and he made sure the letter was placed in the bag with Jeremy’s belongings before it was handed over to the family.”
“I don’t believe this,” she cries, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry ?”
I don’t miss the acerbic twist of her voice, and I don’t know what I expected her to say after my big confession, but it isn’t that.
“Yes, I’m sorry. Of course, I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry for taking away some of your pain over the last few years. I’ve seen you read that letter, Cassie. I’ve seen you pull it out when you thought no one else was watching you. I’m sorry, sure, but for me, if knowing reading Jeremy’s letter dulled even a second of your pain, I’d do it all over again.”
Bewilderment clouds her eyes as she stares up at me, her blue eyes so watery with tears they almost don’t look real.
“I love you, Cassie. I love you so much. Please don’t allow this to come between us.”
I reach for her hand, but she twists away from me. “Don’t touch me. You can’t touch me right now.”
Without another word, she stands and pushes past me. Her foot slips on the greasy floor, and I grab her wrist, but she flinches, so I immediately let her go again. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“Cass, come on,” I plead. “Why?”
“Why?” She spins around to face me. “My fiancé fucking died, Quinn,” she shouts. The tattoo gun down the hallway stops, and her voice echoes through the store. “And I’ve had to live with that grief, and now it feels like a lie. I don’t know what to think. My head is spinning, and I don’t even know what to feel. So geez, I’m sorry if I can’t look at you right now.”
“You can’t stay away from me forever. Just let me hold you. We’ll both feel better, I promise.” Desperation burns a path up my throat. “I just want us to go back to being us .”
“I don’t even know what that is anymore.”
“You don’t fucking mean that,” I say, watching as she backs away from me. “Stay and talk to me. ”
“I can’t. I need to get out of here.” She looks around the room frantically. “ Please just leave me alone.”
“You can’t leave forever.”
“I’m not going forever, but you need to let me leave, for now. I need time to think. If you really love me as much as you say you love me, then you have to give me time, you have to let me get away from this mess so I can figure things out in my head.”
She runs down the hallway and out the door.
I don’t chase after her.