Beholden, p.19
Beholden, page 19
part #2 of The Belonging Duet Series
Pulling my phone out, I snap a few photos of the happy couple. When he turns his head I have the perfect shot.
We sneak out and catch up with Gretchen, showing her the photos. “Well, if the dickface decides to come after you again, we have leverage.” She winks at me.
Who thought we’d be here laughing at the fact that he’s once again kissing someone else and I had to see it. Last time it destroyed my world, this time I couldn’t care less. He has no hold on me and it feels fantastic.
Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Neil.
I head home as Ash and Gretch continue to another bar. As much as I’d love to go to sleep there’s one task I need to handle before I collapse. I need to hire an assistant before I get on that plane. Grabbing the folder of resumes, I thumb for the one I set up to speak to today.
I grab my phone and call. “Hi, is Tristan there?” I ask into the receiver as I walk around my empty room.
Thankfully, this is the last of the interviews I need to do over the phone before I arrive in California. Tristan is the one candidate I’m most excited about interviewing. He has some executive assistant experience along with acting and public speaking.
“This is.” His deep voice is gruff and sexy.
Well, hello there. Now that’s a voice I could listen to all day.
“This is Catherine Pope from CJJ Public Relations. We emailed and I informed you I’d be calling regarding your application for the assistant position.”
“Yes, hi!” Tristan exclaims as he perks up a bit. “I’m very excited about the office opening and was waiting for your call.”
“Your resume was great and I’d like to go over a few things.” I grab my notepad and sit on the floor. “Is now a good time?”
“Yes, Ms. Pope. Definitely.” Tristan’s voice is warm yet rough. It reminds me of another man, but I shut that thought process down quickly.
“Can you tell me a bit about yourself and why you’re looking to make a move?”
Tristan and I spend almost an hour going over the job, expectations, and possibilities the company has for him. I have a great feeling about him. He’s easygoing, articulate, and has a good background for the job. Honestly, he’d be fabulous as a publicist, but for now he’d like to learn as much as he can from me. As long as his references check out, I’ll have myself an assistant.
Feeling good about where we leave off, I lie in my bed hoping I can fall asleep, mentally running over the goodbye with my mother tomorrow and the last minute stuff at my dad’s house.
Today is the memorial. The day I’ll say farewell to two men. One man who meant the world to many. A father, a hero, a husband, and a friend who died leaving a gaping hole in so many people’s hearts.
The other is a man who left a hole in my heart.
I hate this dress.
I hate this day.
I hate the makeup I’m not able to wear because I can’t stop crying.
I woke up this morning a mess. The idea of having to see him has been too much. I received a package last night of more lilies, and this time I allowed myself to open the card and read it.
I’ve never cried so hard in my entire life, but there’s no going back in time.
After my heart was already completely ripped from my chest, I grabbed the other notes he sent with the gifts to my office. I figure I’ll get it all done in one fell swoop and allow the pain to take over so I can get it out.
Dear Catherine,
Today, I hate myself. I don’t deserve you. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I last held you. One day, and I feel worse than I ever have. I saw this lighthouse and thought of you. It reminded me of the magic we shared up there. How you made me want to live again. You give me that. I’ll tell you everything, just give me a chance.
All of my heart and soul,
Jackson
The tears stream and I sob, but Ashton ignores the sounds of my breakdown if she hears me. I open the next card that came with the Battleship game.
Dear Catherine,
I’ve lost track of the times I’ve picked up the phone. I can’t sleep in our bed. Everything in this fucking house reminds me of us. Be my anchor, Catherine. I hate myself. I hate what I’ve done to us. Call me and we can work through it. My heart is yours. It’s up to you if it sinks.
All of me,
Jackson
There’s no changing the fact that I’m leaving for California in four days. I want to forgive him, to run back to his arms, but it doesn’t erase the doubt and the three thousand miles that are about to be between us. I know I should stop myself from reading the rest of the notes, but I owe him.
My Catherine,
Love notes are dumb but I should’ve written them to you. Then you’d have known what was inside of me the entire time. You wouldn’t have questioned anything because it would be there in black and white. My proof to you when you felt doubt and you’d know how much you mean to me. I don’t even know if you read these but if you do … I miss you. I went to work today and everyone asked about you. I broke two things because I was fucking mad. I’m mad now too. If you love me, how can you walk away so easily? Don’t answer that. I’m pretty sure I’m talking to myself. I talked to Mark and my mother today, told them about what happened. I’m sure you can imagine the things I heard. But one thing my mom said that stuck:
“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins.” – Peter 4:18
I love you deeply. I love you with every breath I take. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve fucked up. I know this, but love me.
Don’t give up on us.
Jackson
My eyes are puffy, my heart is heavy, and the idea of seeing him has made me sick. I allow myself to read the final letter one more time.
Dear Catherine,
I know now it’s over. I know you don’t want to talk to me, or hear my side and I respect your decision. I hate it, but I can’t push you anymore. I know I hurt you. I don’t know how to live without trying to win you back. I can’t think. I can’t sleep. I hurt so fucking much, Catherine. Every day I look at this godforsaken apartment and I want to sell it and move—but then I’ll have lost the only thing I have of you. You were the only woman to ever sleep in this bed. You were the only woman to touch this house. Nothing here matters because you’re gone. I’d go back in time and tell you everything. But I can’t do that. I can’t fix this and it’s killing me. I call and you don’t answer. I text and you won’t respond. I can’t fix this without you. I meant every word I ever said to you. I love you and I’ll love you until my last breath.
You’re it for me.
Jackson
How can someone hurt so much? The depths of my heart are hollow, my eyes are burning from the onslaught of tears. I feel like I’ve been torn apart and when I was put back together, they forgot some pieces. But I won’t quit my job. I can’t walk away from this opportunity, and we can’t work. So it’s my turn to save him. Allow him to move on with a clean break.
I know when I see him today, I’ll have to put on the show of my life. If I thought the launch party was difficult, this will be a thousand times worse.
I should’ve left the damn cards unopened. But I couldn’t.
So today I’ll somehow handle looking at the man who’s no longer mine. The one who forced me to love again, to give my heart to him—then forced me to be alone. He’s gone from my life and I can’t get him back. I have to let him go—for good.
I’ll need a miracle to get through this.
He took everything from me with that damn letter.
“You ready?” Mark asks from behind me. He’s wearing his full dress uniform, white gloves and all.
With a little help I was able to get my dress blues on. The only time I’ve worn this uniform since I got out was for the last team member we lost a few months ago. I hate how once again I’m putting it on for the same reason. In fact, this is pretty much the only time I wear it. I’m going to fucking burn it after this, and then maybe we’ll stop having to go to funerals.
I straighten my belt and huff. I can’t do this. I can’t bury another friend. “Fuck. I can’t do this. Just go without me,” I say looking away.
Next thing that registers is his fist connecting with my bad shoulder.
“What the fuck?” I ask while trying to get rid of the stinging in my arm.
“You’re going. I’ll punch you in the fucking face if you even try to say it again. You shut your mouth and listen. Maybe when you were taking your little nap you didn’t hear me, maybe your tiny brain can’t retain it, but I’ve had enough of your goddamn bullshit. You’re going! I swear to fucking God you’re going today,” Mark rages and runs his hand down his face.
I’ve never seen him so pissed—well, not at me at least. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Of course not! You weren’t the only one in that village, asshole. You weren’t the only one who watched Aaron go and handle the issues in Afghanistan that either one of us could’ve dealt with. You didn’t fucking go to Natalie and tell her that her husband was dead. No, fucker, I did that. I had to knock on her door, catch her in my arms as she lost it. So kiss my fucking ass.”
“Keep it up, dickhead,” I warn.
He turns as if I didn’t say anything and mocks me, “‘I’m not going.’ My fucking ass you’re not. You’re not the only one who’s ever lost anyone!” he yells and punches the door. “I fucking lost them too! They were my friends too, Muff. You aren’t the only one who lives with guilt!” Mark chokes on the last part.
“I know that!” I yell back at him. “But I sent them to their deaths! I live with this every fucking day.”
“You still don’t get it. We were a fucking team. I left the Navy after you did because where you go, I go. I followed because you, me, and Aaron—we’re a team.” Mark balls his fists up and steps toward me. “You aren’t the only one in this team. I’ve watched every single fucking one of them die. I watched you die too, you son of a bitch.” He points his finger and jabs me in the chest. I push him back away from me. And he stumbles.
“Don’t fucking push me,” I say strained.
“You want to fight me? Today? You want me to fucking lay you out?” Mark says taunting me and throwing his hands up.
“Fuck you!” I don’t want to fight him but he’s about to push me there.
“No, fuck you! I’m not sitting around acting like I’m the only person who suffers. It’s what the job is. You know this. I know this. When we became SEALs we knew we could die but it’s what we lived for. Losing him though—he wasn’t supposed to die.”
The words I want to say to him won’t come out. I want to tell him to fuck off, but I can’t. He’s lost as many friends as I have. As much as I want to say something, he’s right. Mark and Aaron worked together every day. They spent more time together than I did in the last year while I was cleaning up my mess of a life.
After a few minutes of us pissed off with our fists ready to strike, we both take a step back. “He was a brother to me,” he says. I look up and he shakes his head. “He was a better man than me or you. He didn’t deserve to die.”
“I know. It should’ve been me,” I say, feeling devoid of any emotion.
“It shouldn’t have been any of us.”
“I don’t ever want to wear this uniform again,” I say, fixing my jacket from the near fight with Mark.
He looks over and grips his neck. “I’m tired of attending these funerals. The next one I plan to go to is my own. And I won’t give a fuck what you wear.”
There are times when I wish we were back eight years ago, young, dumb, and ignorant to the world around us. We thought we were invincible. Who the fuck was going to bring down a group of SEALs? No one. We lived in this idealistic world that we could live dangerous and not pay for our sins.
We weren’t married, no kids, just money to burn and tails to chase. The missions were, in our minds, fun. The deployments were what we looked forward to. I couldn’t wait to be away, because Virginia was fucking boring.
“Dude, I—” I start to say but he cuts me off.
“Not today, Muff.” He shakes his head. “I’ll kick your ass another day, but not today. Come on, let’s go.”
Today is going to be hard on everyone, but especially Mark.
We get to the funeral site without further incident. I’m able to put pressure on my leg now as long as I use a crutch, but today I won’t be using it. I’ll stand through the pain because it will be my reminder. I’ll fight through the hurt because Aaron deserves it.
There’s a tent set up, and Natalie and her family are sitting while the color guard stands guard of the urn. There are a few of the team guys here along with some of their wives. I say hello to everyone and stand off in the back.
Natalie comes over to me hesitantly. “Jackson, thank you for doing all this.” She bites her lip and a tear falls.
“Nat, you don’t owe me anything.”
She gives a sad smile. “Aaron loved you like a brother.”
I ball my fists and stand up taller, “I’m sor— ”
Natalie puts her hand on my arm and cuts me off. “Don’t you dare say it. You didn’t kill him. I hate everyone telling me they’re sorry because I can bet you a thousand dollars if it were you or Mark, he would wish it was him.”
Her mother comes up behind her and hands her Aarabelle. She’s a beautiful baby with dark hair and Natalie holds her close. Natalie turns to me while I gaze at the tiny infant in her arms. “I have a piece of him,” she says as she rocks back and forth.
I look up and she kisses Aarabelle’s head. Mark and I stand there together watching her walk over and talk to the other team guys who are here.
The feeling in the air shifts and my body registers Catherine’s presence. My heart pounds harder in my chest as I scan the area looking for her.
“Dude,” Mark grips my shoulder and points over at our former Senior Chief as he approaches. “Look, it’s Wolf.”
I don’t respond because I know she’s here. Finally, I catch a glimpse of her. She’s even more beautiful than I remember. The pictures I have of us don’t do her justice. Her hair blows in the wind and I fight the urge to go to her, fall on my knees, and grovel. I want to wrap her in my arms, beg her for forgiveness, and bury myself in her and never leave, but I know it’ll do no good. She’s made it clear that she’s done. Her sunglasses hide her eyes, but the way she’s holding on to Ashton leads me to believe she’s upset.
I see her nod and look over at the crowd, but she doesn’t see me—or at least doesn’t acknowledge in any way that she does.
Every part of me is pulled toward her. But once again she shuts me out.
“Cole, it’s good to see you. I wish it was under better circumstances,” Senior Chief Wolfel says.
I shake his hand. “I agree, Wolf, but it’s good to see you as well.”
“I hear the company is doing well.”
I nod, trying to keep my eyes on Catherine as she approaches with her head down. I’m willing her to look at me, but her head stays firmly downcast and she maintains her distance. “Yes, I’m focusing on growing the firm. Mark and I are looking at doing some bigger bids.”
The priest who begins to speak halts our conversation. His voice is somber and the mood within the tent shifts. He talks about Aaron’s life as a kid, his heroism as an adult, and the absence his loss brings. There’s no comfort because the pain will never completely fade. Sure, it will lessen in time, but Natalie is a widow, Aarabelle will grow up without a father. She’ll suffer the loss of a great man and she’ll never know why.
I gaze at the woman I lost. She wipes her cheek and her body shakes. My feet move without permission. I can’t watch her suffer and not go to her. She’s falling apart. One step closer, then I feel Mark grip my shoulder, holding me in place. He shakes his head and I stay where I am, but my eyes stay locked on Catherine.
“Today, we remember a hero who lost his life too soon. We remember the man who fought through wars and protected those who couldn’t protect themselves. We remember a husband, a son, a father, and a friend.” The priest looks up and I hear Natalie cry louder while people wrap their arms around her.
My shipmates stand off to the side and begin the military funeral honors. The bugle plays “Taps” and the sounds of people crying grow louder. The sound of that song haunts me.
Two sailors accompany our former Senior Chief who’s presenting the flag to her. He kneels and says the words every woman never wants to hear. The apology that should never come. A grateful fucking nation my ass. How about telling her we’ll kill the fuckers who made her have to hold that folded flag.
Mark and I stand watching her sob, holding the baby to her chest. The echo of her cries breaks our stance. We push forward at the same time and each put our hands on her shoulders. Letting her know she’s not alone and we’re here. Even with the throbbing radiating from my leg, I refuse to move. Fuck the pain, because it’s nothing compared to what she’s feeling. Her chest heaves as we stand guard behind her.
I hear the people crying behind me but one sound breaks my hold. The person who matters most to me and the only one I’d be willing to move for. I look over and see Ashton pull her close. I look over at Mark who nods once and puts his hand on Natalie’s other shoulder relieving me from my position.
Walking up behind Catherine, without thinking, my hand drifts up her back and rests on the skin of her shoulder. A jolt runs through me from being this close to her. Within seconds, the feelings I’d managed to push away come barreling forward. I need to touch her and feel her against me.
“Catherine,” my voice is low and full of emotion.
She sobs, falling forward, and Ashton catches her. She shakes in her arms but I won’t move my hand. I can’t stop touching her. I won’t stop. She’s mine and I will protect her. Looking at Ashton she closes her eyes and gives a small nod.
It’s all the permission I need. I grab a hold of Catherine and pull her into my arms. I hold her once again and my world shifts. Her touch, the smell of vanilla hits me, and I can’t fucking breathe. Everything that matters is in my arms and I won’t let go of her again.
