Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Angus
“ S o, how are things going at the house with Mia and Sawyer?” Dr. Laughlin asks during my weekly online therapy appointment.
When I first sought help, I didn’t mesh with any of the local therapists. I tried I really did. I met with one psychiatrist and two psychologists in Bend, but none of them were a good fit.
I had all but given up when I mentioned my struggle to my buddy, Jimmy, on a visit to the East Coast. There was no way I was missing his college graduation.
After our time in the military came to an end, I received a veteran small-business grant and opened The House, whereas Jimmy, always the smart one in our platoon, took full advantage of the GI Bill, earning his bachelor’s degree in only three years. He then went on to get his masters. He said meeting with the Doc during those first three years of school was the only thing that got him through it.
After what we experienced... what we lost... Most of the surviving men and women who served in my platoon weren’t the same people we had been when we joined the military. Many of us were too guilt-ridden or scared to seek help. It would mean recounting our trauma out loud. At least for me, that’s what it was. Sure, the images played like a movie in my head, but saying it out loud... Hearing myself talk about what happened... I worried that if I dove too deep into the past, I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to the present.
There was no way I could share what I was going through with friends and family. They would never look at me the same.
Then, I met Dr. Laughlin.
Well, I’ve never met her in person, because she lives in Virginia, but we talk via video call every Tuesday at 11am. It’s been years now and even though I have a long way to go, I feel like a different person. I’m not sure I’ll ever get eight hours of sleep in a night again, but I only wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare once or twice a week these days. If getting regular sleep is all I get from therapy, it will have been well worth it.
Since I still can’t use the loft and my office at the bar isn’t private enough, I’m on my couch at the house holding a throw pillow that smells like Mia. Everything in the house smells like Mia now.
“To be honest, it’s confusing as hell, Doc.”
“How so?”
“Because being around the two of them is the happiest I’ve ever been, but she pulls away or I pull away, because we both know we can never be.”
“Why is that?”
“You know why.”
“I know what your reasons were in the past, but things between the two of you have changed. Your feelings have grown stronger and I’m curious if your reasons might be different now.”
“You’re right. As much as it should be at the top of the list, I don’t really care if being with Mia pisses my sister off anymore. She’d get over it, eventually. Besides, it’s obvious she already knows.”
“So if Daisy isn’t the reason, what has you holding yourself back?”
We’ve talked about it before, but it’s been a while since I’ve said his name out loud. My chest tightens. My breath shallows. My best friend's face flashes in my head. His face the moment before he died. Right before my eyes. The knowing look he gave me as he patted his chest, where, unbeknownst to me, he’d kept a letter that he had written in case something happened to him.
“Chris,” I finally get out after several silent moments.
“Your best friend and Mia’s brother. You don’t think Chris would approve?”
Leaning forward, my elbow on my knees, I hang my head and close my eyes for a beat before finding the strength to look into the camera. “His letter said to take care of his sister. I’m not sure this is what he had in mind.”
“Is that all?”
She knows it’s more than that. Chris is the main reason I sought help. I haven’t gotten over losing him. Or how I lost him. I’m not sure I ever will.
“She doesn’t know it’s my fault. That I could have saved her brother, and chose not to.”
“Angus, is that really what happened or is that what you continue to tell yourself? Do you think Chris would have done things any differently had it been him in your position?”
“Doc, don’t.” My chest tightens and my insides twist.
“Given your training would Chris have done anything differently?”
“No,” I exhale. The truth in my answer lessens the tension in my body.
“Do you love her?”
“With everything that I am.”
“What else did Chris’s letter say?”
There’s a lump in my throat. I swallow past it and answer, “To get back to the real world and live a full life. To be happy.”
“And Mia and Sawyer make you happy, yes?”
“Doc, you know they do.”
“You deserve to be happy, Angus. Chris would want that for you.”
“I’m not sure I deserve to be happy, but God, the two of them make me happier than I knew was possible.”
“You deserve to be happy,” she repeats.
“Doc...”
“Angus, you deserve to be loved, the same as Mia and Sawyer deserve to be loved. They deserve you and you deserve them.”
“But if she knew I could have saved her brother…. That I could have but I didn’t….”
“If you tell her what really happened, your orders, the circumstances, not the version you continue to tell yourself, but the facts, I think she could love you the same as she does today.”
I huff out a laugh. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Nobody said anything about Mia Powell loving me. A childhood crush and sexual chemistry do not equal love.”
“But you love her,” Dr. Laughlin counters.
“I do, but I never said she loved me.”
“Maybe if you told her how you feel, she would do the same.”
“And what if she doesn’t?”
“If she doesn’t, she may have her own reasons. Daisy, being one of those reasons. But from everything you’ve told me, it’s clear she has feelings for you. It may be too soon for it to be love for her, though. She may not be ready. She’s a single mother, and that comes with a lot of responsibility. You need to understand where she’s coming from. It’s not just Mia, you would be in a relationship with. It’s Sawyer too.”
“And if it’s not for any other reason than she simply doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Then at least you’ll know you put yourself out there. You’ll never have to wonder. You’ve earned the right to know how she feels. Who knows, you could be depriving the both of you of something special.”
Getting the doc’s words out of my head has been impossible. I’ve been useless since our call ended.
I went to work and stayed until closing time to sort out the side effects from today’s appointment. I barely spoke two words as I slogged through the motions while guilt, love, fear, and desperation to make Mia mine wreaked havoc on my head and my heart.
Today left me with more questions than answers. Is there a remote chance this is more than a crush and intense sexual chemistry on her side, too? Could she really love me? Even without her knowing about Chris, does she think I’m good enough to be a father-figure in her child’s life?
It’s 2am when I walk through the front door of the quiet house. As usual, she left the light above the kitchen sink on. The ambient glow highlights Mia and Sawyer’s belongings littered about the great room and dining room. Sawyer’s favorite dump truck waits on the bench next to the front door, where both of their jackets hang. Mia’s favorite fluffy gray blanket is folded and draped along the back of the couch. Sawyer's high chair is tucked under the table. Their things make this house feel like a home for the first time.
I stand in the entryway taking it all in, telling myself not to lean in and bury my nose in her favorite red scarf that I know will smell like her.
That would be creepy.
Forcing myself to walk past the coatrack and through the house amongst their things, I head to the kitchen, hoping to distract myself with something to eat. Except what I find in the fridge is anything but a distraction. There’s a container of food with a note on it.
Sawyer missed you tonight. Hope you like stir-fry?
She didn’t confess her undying love. She said Sawyer missed me, not her. So why is it suddenly so hard to breathe? Why is my heart thundering in my ears? She said she hoped I liked stir-fry, not that she wanted to stay here with me forever.
You deserve to be happy.
Mia and Sawyer deserve to be happy.
You’ll never know if you don’t put yourself out there.
The same words that have been torturing me all day spin round and round through my head, but now that I’m here in the house where they lay sleeping, standing in the kitchen with leftovers in my hand, those words hit me like a freight train.
I fucking love Mia and her little boy.
There is nothing I need more than to make them happy. For a lifetime. Can I really spend the rest of my life pretending she isn’t it for me? Am I going to watch her eventually meet someone else, fall in love, and live a life with him?
The thought makes me sick.
My world has been out of focus for far too long. Now it sharpens, turning crystal clear, as if I’m seeing it in HD.
It’s time to tell her everything. The truth about Chris. The extent of my feelings for her.
Tomorrow I’m not hiding at the bar.
Tomorrow night, I’ll be home for dinner. Bath time and bedtime. I’ll read Sawyer a story or two or three, then I’ll pour his mom a glass of wine and bare my soul.
What could go wrong?
Feeling good about my decision made by the refrigerator light, I pop my dinner in the microwave. I’ve just hit start when I hear a cry coming from down the hall.
Sawyer.
My dinner all but forgotten, I race to his room where he’s sitting up in his fire truck bed holding his stuffed dog. Tears stream down his face.
“Hey, buddy. What’s wrong?” I ask, wiping tears from his cheeks.
When he sees it’s me, he holds his arms up, his lower lip quivering. “Gus Gus.”
Seeing him upset like this is a punch to the gut, and I can’t pick him up fast enough. “I got you, bud. I got you.”
He wraps himself around me. Arms around my neck, legs around my middle, he holds on for dear life. He rests his head on my shoulder. His crying has ceased, but his body shakes with every breath as he settles himself in my arms.
“That must have been a nasty dream. I’m so sorry. I know how scary they can be. But I got you. I’m not going anywhere.” I rub soothing circles on his back. His little body, growing lax.
An unexpected pride sneaks its way into my psyche. He reached for me to comfort him, and that’s just what I did. I comforted him. And it worked.
He is one of the most important things in my world and to be there for him in this tangible way validates everything I’ve been feeling.
Turning away from his bed to walk around the room until I’m sure he’s completely back to sleep, I find the rest of my world standing in the doorway, watching us.