Chapter 21 #2
Incredibly, he snorts. “Never go into the nursing profession. It would be a profound disappointment to you and the patients.”
“Do as you’re told.” He turns obediently into my arms, and I wrap the blanket around him.
“You too,” he says stubbornly, and I give an aggrieved sigh and fold us both into the blanket. Then I wind my arms around his narrow waist. “What is it?” He shrugs. “A nightmare,” I guess.
He stiffens. “No.”
I give a huge, dramatic sigh. “You are the shittiest liar that ever lied.”
“Xavier.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Reuben.”
The silence is so long, but I don’t panic. If you shut me out, I will try again and again. You’re never getting rid of me. Just trust me.
I release a long, slow breath when he nods. “Yes.”
“A bad one from the looks of it.” I keep my tone steady and easy because he looks two seconds away from bolting.
He nods. “We should go in.”
“I don’t think so.”
His eyes flare. “Xavi, you know I have these dreams. I distinctly remember shoving you over the last time you woke me during one.”
“This is the same dream?” I say, and he nods.
“You said then that I could never forgive you if I knew what it was about.” I shake my head.
“I thought you were dreaming about something you’d done in wartime that was nothing to do with me, but I don’t think that’s true, is it? ” The silence grows. “Reuben?”
He sighs, and it’s so weary that it makes tears come to my eyes. “No,” he finally says. “There are so many dreams, darling.”
I have a sudden conviction. “But this one is more important at the moment?” I take a slow breath when he doesn’t answer.
“Grey said that you’ve not been the same since you came back from Afghanistan the last time.
I didn’t see it at first because I was so angry with you. Now I can see it. You’re haunted.”
He pulls free of the blanket and paces away. “Xavier, you don’t want to know. It will only hurt both of us if I put that image in your head—” He stops abruptly as if shocked at his words.
“I need you to tell me.” I stride over to him.
“Need? How can you know you need this shit?”
I take his hand in mine. “I want to help you carry this. I don’t want you to be alone in the dark with this.” I squeeze his hand gently. “Don’t you know? There is nothing that you have done that I won’t forgive you for. I think you could even murder someone, and I would help you bury the body.”
“That is not even remotely disturbing.”
I ignore him. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine on a cellular level. I won’t have you carrying hurt on your own, Reuben. I left you in that state for long enough.” I take a breath. “Share this and let me carry some of the weight the way you’ve been carrying mine for so fucking long.”
The silence lasts for many moments. I’m about to try another approach, when he suddenly moves, and I watch in horror as he crumples. He slides slowly towards the patio flagstones, and I gasp and scramble to grab him. He’s too heavy, though, and lands with a thump.
My heart wrenches. “Oh, my god. Lovey, don’t tell me if you don’t want to,” I say frantically. “We’ll find someone else you can talk to. A therapist. Someone nice who you like.”
I pull his head into me, and he nestles against me. Incredibly, I hear him snort softly. “Are you laughing?” I say incredulously.
He waves a hand. “It’s just you were so loud in your resolution to hear me out, and now you’ve folded like a cheap deck of cards.”
“Shut up,” I chide. “I just want you happy. So sue me.”
“But if I tell you, then you will know, and you will be disappointed in me.” His voice is low and devoid of humour. “I wanted to carry it on my own.”
“Remember I’m my own person,” I chide. “A man with agency. Don’t do my thinking for me. Please let me in.” I hold him tightly, covering his shoulders with the blanket again as the wind makes a lonely sighing sound.
“It’s about Jez,” he finally says, the words reluctant and grave.
I think I already knew it. “Yes? Tell me, baby,” I urge as he falls silent again. It’s time for him to let this go, even if it hurts to tell it and to hear it.
“Did you ever read the report on his death?”
“No, I never did. He wasn’t a part of my life, and I didn’t feel the need to know the details. I went to the funeral out of respect and to see you.”
I think of that lonely graveyard and Reuben in his black suit, his arm in a sling and his face grave and faraway. His gaze had passed over me as if he didn’t see me and I’d left with Max, leaving Reuben standing in the rain alone.
I can’t help but stiffen at the awful memory.
He raises his head, his eyes wet. “No,” he says immediately. “It’s done, babe. Over and gone. I forgive you.”
“I love you,” I say hoarsely, and he nods, kissing me.
He squeezes my hand. “Don’t let go of me, yes?”
“Never.” I kiss his forehead, feeling the silky strands of his hair and smelling the sweet scent of his shampoo.
His voice is thick and sad. “He was so happy when we left for Afghanistan. So fucking thrilled. Kept saying it was just me and him again. Like he’d won. I couldn’t understand him. I felt like I was moving through a nightmare. How could he not see the truth?”
“What was that?”
He sighs and kisses my temple, nuzzling there for a second.
“That I was broken in two and he’d taken something precious from me.
I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were like this beacon—my way home.
” I tighten my grip on him as he continues.
“We limped along, trying to return to the way we had been, but it was like an old path grown over with weeds. Then he got angry. He never did like being on the wrong foot.”
His face is blank but his body thrums with tension. “We argued the day he died. We were sitting in a cafe in the village waiting for our contact. He was late. I thought he’d maybe had a family emergency. Jez started the argument. He was pushing like he used to. Needling to get a reaction.”
His hands tighten around my waist, and I feel his breath strike hard and fast on my neck. “It’s ridiculous but I don’t even remember what he said. I snapped and told him the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That I was in love with you and he’d cost me everything.”
“Oh no.”
“He was so fucking angry. He got up and stormed towards our truck. I followed him. It was like something had loosened my tongue, and words were just flying out. We were shouting over each other.” He draws in a shuddering gasp. “Then I heard a bang and—”
“What?”
He sighs. “Everything went to hell. I was shot in the shoulder.”
I jerk. “Your scar?” He nods. I move my hand to cover the twisted shadow on his shoulder. “Here?”
He nods again and shudders when I lean in and kiss it. His hand comes down on my shoulder, pressing me close. “Don’t let go.”
“Never.” I squeeze his shoulder as if shielding him many years too late. “Tell me the rest.”
“I was lucky. They got Jez in the head. He was dead before he hit the ground.”
“Fuck,” I say. Reuben feels still and cold now, as if he’s gone somewhere far away from me.
“Omid, our old translator, warned me that Jez’s contact had been compromised. Jez told me that Omid was old and imagining things—that I was a fool to still listen to him. Turns out Omid was actually not that old and foolish.”
“Jez’s contact betrayed you?”
He nods. “I found out that the men he was working with had planned to take us both prisoners when we left the cafe. The killing was completely accidental—two groups fighting over something that was nothing to do with us. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He pets me when I shudder, suddenly gentle and focused on me. “And that’s it.”
“No, it’s not.” I twist in his grip. “Tell me the rest. Drain the poison before…”
“Before what?” he prompts when my words drop away.
“Before it eats you alive,” I finally say. I cup his face, not allowing him to look away. “Tell me.” He needs to be seen. If anyone can understand that, it would be me.
He grimaces. “I can still feel his blood. It’s what wakes me up at night. I can smell and taste it.” His voice suddenly shakes. “It covered me.”
“Baby,” I whisper.
“After I was shot, I went down. I couldn’t move, and they were heading towards me.
I could hear their footsteps coming across the square, and I remember wondering when it had got so quiet.
It had been so noisy, and now there was nothing.
Just this hushed stillness. Then there was more gunfire, and a car pulled up beside me.
I was picked up, thrown into the back of it, and they took off. ”
“Who was it? Omid?” I breathe.
“A member of his family—his cousin. Omid told me later he had a bad feeling that we’d be betrayed and so he paid his cousin to save us.”
“I want to meet him and hug Omid,” I say. “He’s getting gift boxes for the rest of his life.”
“Just tell Hermès. They can double their usual deliveries to the house.” I pinch him and smile helplessly because even though his resultant laughter is wet, it’s still so precious to me.
He could have been taken away from me. The thought is dreadful and I hug him tight as he strokes my hair.
“He will like you,” he says softly. “How could he not?”
“Is that it?” I ask, raising my head and looking at him.
He nods. “They got me over the border, and I came home in one piece.”
“Not really. Seems to me you’re still fractured. There’s more, isn’t there?”
“I had Jez’s blood in my mouth. Isn’t that enough?”
“Not for you. There’s something else. Something you feel guilt over.”
Where does that deep-seated knowledge come from?
Maybe it’s as simple as the fact that this man is the love of my life.
I’ve spent years studying him, trying to find all the secret ways to hurt him.
Now I can do the reverse and protect those secret little weaknesses.
If that isn’t knowing him, then I’ll never know anyone.
“I should have persuaded him not to go to Afghanistan.”
“He wouldn’t have listened,” I say calmly.