A Fighting Chance (12 page)

We eat dinner in silence, too. I don’t know if Max just doesn’t know what to say to me, or if he’s doing it on purpose. He clears the dishes and stands at the sink with his head down and his back turned to me. The look of defeat in his stance makes me sad. We’ve yet to talk about Samuel or the break up, but it’s almost like the words aren’t necessary, I can feel his love all around me. I know they need to be said, and I’m afraid they will have to be said soon.

I crawl in bed and stare at the roaring fire in the glorious fireplace. As I get lost in the calm of the lapping flames, Max crawls in bed behind me. He wraps his arms around me securely with a squeeze. I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck and almost instantly, I fall asleep.

The next morning just like the previous, there is a knock at the door. Please, God, don’t let that be anymore Wellingtons. Max hauls his large frame out of bed, but not before he plants a good morning kiss on my forehead. He opens the door to Adrian and Shay. Damn, more Wellingtons. My heart sinks at the possibility of this conversation. Max puts on a pot of coffee, and then heads out the door. Just what does he do while I’m in here talking with everyone? To my surprise, Adrian kisses Shay on the lips, grabs her chin in a loving gesture, and then smiles at her. He grabs two cups of coffee, and then heads out the door too. No blood Wellington to tell me their gut wrenching story? There is a God in heaven. But I guess Shay is a Wellington, by marriage.

“Good morning,” Shay says with a smile.

“Good morning,” I reply sitting up.

“How’s it going up here?” she asks as she pours herself a cup of coffee, then lifts the carafe and her eyebrows in a question, asking if I’d like a cup as well.

“Yes, please. Thank you.” I think I might need to search for some hard liquor if these conversations don’t stop soon.

We take a seat at the table, and we each take several well needed swallows of coffee before she finally starts talking again.

“It’s beautiful up here. I can see why Max brought you here. I’m not going to sit here and preach to you as to why I think you need to get over yourself,” she says.

Ouch. Get over myself? Is she for real?

“I know just what it’s like to be locked in your own head. I also know that it can be a dangerous place. Things can start to become twisted and run around in a totally different direction than they’re supposed to. You and I don’t really know very much about each other, but I’d like to share my story with you. Adrian and I, we go way back. We were high school sweethearts. We had these grand plans all laid out in front of us. We were married at eighteen and believed that we would ride out into the perfect sunset and live deliriously happily ever after. I foolishly believed nothing could ever break our bonds and we would die old and grey together at the age of ninety-nine, leaving behind three kids and nine grandchildren. Life sure had its way of telling us just how much we weren’t in charge. I got pregnant, and before I could snap my fingers it all changed. One day, one split second, and a car accident later, derailed the course of both of our lives. I was young and stupid, and when I lost the baby, I listened to those voices swirling around in my head, and I ran from the only man I’ve ever loved. I talked myself into believing for seventeen years that I wasn’t worthy of Adrian’s love. I blamed myself for something that ultimately wasn’t even my fault. Chloe, I wasted seventeen years. Seventeen years that I could have had with Adrian if I just would have fought my way through instead of taking the easy way out.”

My God, seventeen years, and for what? My heart breaks for their loss. The circumstances are different, sure, but aren’t they all. Doesn’t everyone have a different story, their own unique and equally hard story? It’s what we do with it and how we come out on the other side that matters.

“Don’t be like me. Don’t let what’s in here,” she says pointing to my head, “get to what’s really in here.” She points to my heart. She couldn’t be more right.

Another layer chipped away.

Fiona came by later that night, and by the end of the session I can honestly say the feelings of not wanting to live are mostly gone. I say mostly because I know my demons aren’t gone. They’re still there. I think they’ll always be there. I don’t know from one day to the next when they’ll choose to haunt me. I don’t know if it will be a daily basis, or if there’s some trigger that makes them worse. But, somehow I need to learn to accept them and learn to live with them. I need to accept that they’re a part of me and always will be. I can’t change what happened to me. There’s no way to ever make them go away completely. Like Shay said, I need to get over myself. As much as that hurt when she said it, it’s entirely true. I need to not let them define me. Yes, I was dealt shit, but it’s what you do with it that can kill you, or make you a better, stronger person. With the help of my family, my friends, and Fiona, I really want to make that happen. My thoughts are starting to think about things in the future. A future that I want to be a part of.

I also can’t help but think that soon enough I’ll have to head down this mountain, and back home. I don’t know what my future holds, and I can’t rely on Max sleeping with me to get a good night’s sleep every night. But a good night’s sleep is just what I got for the next seven days. No more Wellingtons stopped by, but Fiona did like clockwork every night. I spent those seven days writing in my journal. Each day I felt the layers peeling away.

The next morning, I wake to see Max sitting at the table, just like every morning with his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. He usually has a steaming cup of coffee for me sitting next to him, but this morning, there isn’t one. The look on his face sends a chill down my spine.

“Our time here is up. There’s only one other person I have who wants to talk to you... Me. I’ve never felt for anyone how I feel about you. I love you, Chloe. I made a huge mistake when I broke up with you. I really thought I was protecting you, not only from me but from my lifestyle. I quickly realized though that the safest place for you, is with me. I’m so sorry for putting you through all of this. I never meant to dredge back up all of these memories that you’ve worked so hard to deal with. I’m asking for your forgiveness. I’m asking for a life with you. I’m asking you for a fighting chance. I don’t need an answer this minute. I want you to be sure. There’s one more thing I want to say to you and this one’s a little harder.”

Oh great. This doesn’t sound good. I close my eyes as a chill races through my body.

“I’m not an expert by any means, and I don’t even know if this is something that I should be saying. But it’s been weighing on me day after day like a ton of bricks, and I honestly think I’m meant to say it. I think you need to forgive yourself. To me, honestly, you have nothing to forgive yourself for. What you did was in self-defense. If you had committed a crime you would have been arrested, gone on trial and sent to jail. But you weren’t, because according to the law, you’re innocent. But I think you’re taking the responsibility of killing a man on your own shoulders. You’re wrong if you think that, but I think you do. I think the biggest step you have to take, and the one that I think will set you free, is to completely forgive yourself and accept what happened. Sometimes the hardest person to forgive is yourself.”

Those words are like a knife to the heart. But I also think he’s right. And because of these past few weeks, I think I’m ready to do just that.

“I need to walk the property before I lock up and head back home. Here are the keys to the truck,” he says scooting them across the table toward me. He squeezes them hard in his hand before he lets them go with a sigh.

“I want nothing more than to build a life with you. I completely understand if you can’t forgive me. If you can’t find it in your heart to take me back, I will respect that. I have a Harley in the garage I can take back. If you’re gone when I get back, I accept that as your decision to not give us another chance. It will break my heart, but I’ll honor your choice.”

As I watch Max’s defeated frame walk out the door, I know just what I need to do. I pack my bags and take a long look around the cabin. I’ll never forget what this place or what Max did for me here.

I stand from the table, walk to the center of the cabin and in a loud voice with everything I have, I scream to the heavens, “I forgive myself.” I sink to my knees and let out the last of the pent up guilt and dark thoughts leave my mind, body and soul.

I pack my things and do a quick clean-up of the cabin. I grab my things, turn the knob and pause in the doorway for what seems like an eternity to rethink my decision. As I close the door behind me, I know I’m making the right choice. Ultimately, it’s the best choice to make for me and it’s the only choice I have.

Max

Walking around the property, I honestly don’t know what she’ll choose to do. I usually have a pretty spot on sense of what’s about to happen, it comes with my job, but I just couldn’t get a read on her. It takes about forty-five minutes to walk the property line before I head back to the house. I walk along the side of the house, close my eyes and say a silent prayer before I turn the corner and see the driveway, and hopefully see that my truck is still there and she chooses to live a life with me. The second I open my eyes and see that my truck’s gone, my heart sinks and my world seems to fold in on itself. Never before have I felt such pain or an ache for someone, not even Samuel’s death, even as much as he meant to me, feels this bad. My knees sink to the ground on their own. As I grab fists full of earth, I know I have only myself to blame. I thought I had given it my all. I thought I had fought with my soul to prove to her that I am worthy of her love.

As I get off the ground, I really had thought that I proved my love to her and that she saw just how much I love her. I don’t regret for one second bringing all her family and friends out here to show her just how much she is loved. I’m glad I was able to help fix what I broke. But I love her so fucking much that this really hurts. I can’t believe it’s really over and she’s gone. I guess I’m really just not good enough for anyone.

I open the door to the cabin and the first thing I see is the wooden heart I made her sitting in the center of the table. Not only did she break my heart, but she ripped it out of my damn chest and left it behind. The cabin has been cleaned, the bed made and her bag is gone. I place my hands on the table and hang my head. A single tear slides down my cheek as I feel small arms wrap around my waist.

“I put the truck in the garage, I was hoping we could take the Harley back to town,” she says as she presses her body to my back. She places a kiss on the center of my spine, reaches past me, and picks up the heart then holds it to my chest as she hugs me tight. Only then did I start to feel my own heart in my chest start to beat again.

My entire body comes alive. I turn around and scoop her off the ground, hold her as close as I can get her and swear right then and there to never let her go again. I set her down and look her in the eyes. Yes, there it is. That light that I love so much, the one that gives me my own purpose, is back in her eyes, and I dedicate the rest of my life to making sure it stays that way.

“Max?’ she questions as she wipes the tear from my cheek.

“I saw the truck gone and I thought... never mind,” I lift her off the ground and she wraps her legs around my waist. She grabs my cheeks and I kiss her as if it’s been a lifetime since I’ve seen her. But honestly it has been since I’ve seen my Chloe, the Chloe wrapped in my arms right now, back.

I walk her to the bed and climb all the way on before I lay her down, never breaking our kiss. Her hands are up my shirt frantically pulling it over my head. We break our kiss only long enough to remove my shirt. Her hands fumble at my belt, then my button and zipper. Releasing her lips I make quick work of my shoes and then hers. She’s breathing heavy, and the look of desperate need is in her eyes. Her swollen kissed lips beg me to kiss her again. She sits up and takes off her shirt, and it’s as if it’s in slow motion as her hair cascades from her shirt down her back. Coming closer to her face, I search her eyes looking for that sign that I’ve been waiting for. Please, God, be there. As her eyes twinkle, her lips meet mine in a soft gentle kiss. It’s the sign that I’ve been waiting for. I can feel it deep in my heart. It’s the perfect time to finally make her mine in all ways possible.

As I deepen the kiss and pull her close, I unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. My hand around her waist comes up her ribs and cups her breast, as my lips trail down her chin, down her throat then over to her hardened nipple. Her head falls back as she moans. I suck hard earning another moan, then lick my way over to her other breast. My other hand descends down to her jeans, unbuttons and unzips them. I trace feather light kisses down the center of her stomach as my hands lift her ass off the mattress and move in between her jeans. Peeling her jeans down her legs, she sits up on her knees wearing only panties.

Kneeling in front of her, I brush her hair from her face and smooth it to the side. She tilts her head, and the light in her eyes shines so fucking bright, but it’s her smile that takes my breath away. For the love of God, I can’t believe he’s giving me such a perfect angel.