In the Stillness (15 page)

“Who is he? Huh? Who’s the guy you’re fucking behind my back?” While his eyes bore into mine, I kept stealing glances at the staircase we were perched precariously on top of. Not the best place for an argument.

I assume it was by the grace of God that I kept my shit together on top of those wooden stairs. “Ryker, I’m not seeing anyone else, it’s just you.” I swallowed hard and tried to pull my wrist out of his grip.

“Then why haven’t we been having sex, Natalie? What is it? Am I damaged to you? Is it because I’m going to reenlist that you’re finding someone else to take my spot?”

What?

I really wanted to say that out loud, but knew it would anger him more.

“Ryker, we had sex yesterday . . .” I thought maybe if I kept saying his name, he’d remember who he was—who he really was.

“No, we didn’t, you weren’t even here yesterday. I was . . . I was . . .” Suddenly he dropped my hand and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, seeming to try to clear his head.
 

I took that opportunity to haul ass down the stairs. Self-preservation was high on my list that night. When he pulled his hands away, it took a second to register that I was at the bottom of the stairs with my hand on the doorknob. I’d intended on just getting the hell out of there, but he met me at the door.

“Natalie,
shit
, I’m so sorry.” In a flash, he was back. He was holding my shoulders and kissing my face over and over again before reaching for my wrist. “Did I hurt you?
Fuck.
”

“No,” I cautiously exhaled, “you didn’t. But, um,” my chin quivered as I was about to lose it in front of him for the first time, “I’m really scared, Ry.” I said no more before burying my face into his chest and releasing heavy sobs onto his shirt.
 

We sank to the floor with our backs against the front door as he held me.

“Me too,” he whispered. “Me too.”

 
We never made it to dinner. I think we both knew he was gone that night, but we sat huddled and crying on the floor anyway.
 
If I could go back and change things between us, it would start that night and go every night thereafter until the night I ended up in the hospital.
 

* * *
 

I don’t have to wear a short dress to Eric’s graduation.
 

This is what I’m telling myself as I race into the bathroom after my boys are fast asleep and I’m, obviously, alone in the apartment. Eric is distant one minute, and telling me he loves me the next. There’s something wrong with Oliver, and no matter how big or small, I know I’ll be dealing with it alone. And, for some reason, not only am I unable to shake thoughts of Ryker from my mind, but they seem to be taking over more of my headspace as the days go by.
 

Finding fresh skin between my hip and thigh, I brace myself for the extra pain that sensitive area brings. Three seconds later I’m reveling in the release, tricking my brain into protecting me from a dangerous situation. I exhale in satisfaction, like someone who’s just taken a sip of one hundred-year-old whiskey for the first time.
 

In the stillness of the moment, I can hear Ryker’s sweet voice,
“Don’t do this, Nat.”
Only, he never said that—we didn’t get that far.

“Natalie?” Eric calls as he walks in the apartment.

Shit.

Jumping up, I toss the razor into the trash—having no time to clean it—and turn on the shower. “Just getting in the shower, hon, be out in a few.”

As soon as I close the curtain, the bathroom door opens. “Can I join you?” Eric’s tone is playful, which annoys me. Then I look at the blood trailing down my thigh.

Shit. Shit. Shit. He can’t see this.

“Jesus, Eric, can I have thirty-five seconds without someone in my space?” My tone is a little harsher than I planned but, hey, self-preservation.

“Man,” he scoffs, “sorry.” He slams the door.

I press my forehead into the shower wall, grateful that I just bought myself more time, but feeling slightly bad about snapping at Eric. My mind is racing a thousand miles an hour and there’s only one thing that can put the brakes on; but I threw it in the trash a few minutes ago.
 

When I dry off from the shower and my skin is no longer bleeding, I change into my pajamas and find Eric watching TV in the living room.

I pour myself a glass of water. “Sorry for snapping at you, today was just really stressful with the screening-”

“I get it,” he cuts in, “no need to explain.”

“Wait, are
you
mad at
me
for something?”

Eric slams the footrest down on the recliner and walks out of the room. “Just forget it,” he tones out flatly before shutting our bedroom door.

Chapter 18

“How you hanging in there? Have you thought more about what we talked about the other day?” Tosha asks as we stroll through Northampton while the boys are at preschool.

“About me staying with you and Liz for a while? Yeah, I’ve thought about it. Especially since Eric’s been really weird lately. Something’s going on with him.”

Tosha picks an open bench and we sit, watching people pass by in front of us.
 

“What do you mean? He passed his orals, right?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, “but something else is . . . I don’t know, maybe he’s upset that I told him I didn’t want to have any more kids. Well, I didn’t tell him that exactly; I just told him how pissed I was that knocking me up was his first post-grad thought.”

Tosha laughs and lights a cigarette. “Well, maybe he feels since he’s finished this huge accomplishment, he should celebrate it by reproducing.”
 

I light one of my own. “Have you ever thought about it?”

“What, kids?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugs. “Liz and I talk about it sometimes. I mean, it’s not like we can really say ‘if it’s going to happen it’s going to happen.’ It needs to be planned. It’s all very clinical.”

“Would one or both of you carry them, or would you adopt, or what?”

“Well, I’d hate to have to stop smoking . . .” she laughs on an exhale.

“Mature.”
 

My phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Yes, Mrs. Johnson?”

Whatever.

“Yes? Speaking.”
 

“This is Maggi, the nurse in Dr. Moore’s office.”

“Oh, right, the Audiologist. What can I do for you?” I briefly panic, wondering if I’ve messed up his appointment time, but it’s not for two weeks.

“We actually had a cancellation for our next appointment in an hour, and were wondering if you’d like to bring Oliver in? I know you said they would be with their grandparents next wee—”

“Yes,” I jump and motion for Tosha to follow me, “we’ll be there. Thank you so much for calling.”

I hang up and breathe a sigh of relief.
 

“What’s going on?” Tosha catches up with me.

“The Audiologist can get Ollie in like right now, so we don’t have to wait two more weeks. Finally, something’s going right.”

I quickly call Eric’s mom and arrange for her to pick up Max at preschool and watch him until we’re finished with the appointment. Next, I call Eric.

“Hello?”

“Hey, the Audiologist can get Ollie in an hour, can you meet us there? Your mom’s going to take care of Max.”

“Uh . . .”

“Yes or no, Eric? Can you be there or not?” I’m not sure what he’s even doing at the lab, since his orals are done and he doesn’t officially start his job until after graduation.

“Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Ascent, right?”

I sigh in frustration. We’ve been over this. “Yeah, near where Carmelina’s used to be, on the far end of Russel St., almost in Northampton.”

“K, bye.”

* * *
 

Late that night, after I’d left Bill’s house when Ryker lost his shit about . . . everything, he showed up at my dorm room.

“Natalie, it’s Ryker, please let me in.” He sounded pitiful on the other side of the thick wooden door.
 

Tosha stood and whispered, “What do we do?”
 

I’d filled her in on the evening’s events. She pointed out that he probably wouldn’t remember, given his recent history.

“I’ll let him in. Just . . . stay here, okay?” I’d learned to read Ryker’s tone really well over the past several weeks and he didn’t sound distressed or angry.

I took one look at my wrist, which was already bruised in the shape of his thumb, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“Hey,” I spoke softly, standing in the open space. I wasn’t going to let him in until I visually assessed his mood.

“Jesus, Natalie.” He lunged forward and picked me up, kissing my neck and cheeks as he carried me to my bed. “My God, I’m so sorry. Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?” He reached for my wrist but I pulled it away and tugged my long sleeve as far down as it would go, not wanting to open up a cutting discussion. At least he seemed to remember what happened at his house a few hours ago.

I shook my head. “Not really, it’s fine.” I crossed my arms in front of me as we sat awkwardly on my bed, Tosha doing a horrible job of burying herself in her homework with her earbuds in.

Ryker grabbed my face and pulled my mouth to his, kissing me with an urgency I hadn’t felt since the day he left for Afghanistan.
 

“You taste like beer,” I said when I pulled away. “Where’d you go after I left your dad’s?” Since we were both pretty exhausted by the time I left, I’d assumed he would have gone to bed.

“I grabbed a beer at the Pub to cool down and realized what a total dick I was. I should have talked to you about reenlisting . . .”

Tosha’s jaw dropped open and her eyebrows shot up. I left out that detail when I told her about Ryker freaking out—I didn’t want to think about it. He clearly didn’t remember accusing me of screwing around on him, so I was leaving that alone.

I should have nodded and said we would talk about it later, but should haves are just that. “Is there anything to talk about, or have you made up your mind?”

He clasped his hands in front of him and turned to look at me. “I have to.”

 
“Why?”

Ryker’s massive shoulders rose and fell under a deep breath before he cleared his throat. “They took Luke, Natalie.”

“I know.” I rested my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around my waist. He was Ryker for a moment, and I had to drink it in. “And they almost took you, too.”

 
It was the first time we ever talked about Ryker getting shot, or about Lucas, since the day we went to his grave. Anxiety fell in tears from my eyes. Tosha closed her laptop and looked at me, then the door. I nodded that it was okay that she left, so she did.

“When your mom called me, Ry,” I continued, “I lost it. I thought it was
the
call. Tosha had to come get me and drive me home . . .”

He sighed and rested his chin on my head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t know-”

“You don’t need to be sorry for fuck’s sake, you got
shot
. You didn’t have a choice. But, you have one now.”

Ryker sat up and shook his head. “I don’t, Nat. Lucas wasn’t the only one who died in that attack.”
 

I’d learned from his dad and the news, that five men died that day. I couldn’t honestly wrap my head around how he thought going back overseas was a healthy decision.

“Are you still having nightmares?”

“My dad says they’ve calmed down. He hasn’t had to wake me up for one in a little while.”

I met his eyes and found him there, waiting for me to understand. “I’m worried about you, Ryker. Your moods are all over the place, you don’t remember things that happened yesterday—”

He cut me off with a shout, “I know! Don’t you think I know? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be inside my head?” His neck turned bright red under his sudden rage.

I slowly slid off my bed and put myself between where he sat and my door.
 

“I don’t, Ryker. You don’t talk to me. I’m just worried that with everything going on in your head, if you’re sent over there again . . .”

“What are you doing?” Ryker stood and walked toward me.

“What do you mean?”

Ryker’s voice cracked. “Do I scare you?”

I gave a pitiful shrug, “I don’t know what you—”

“I shouted and you headed for the door . . .”
 

I looked to the floor, knowing I had to say it, but not wanting to see his reaction. “It’s been kind of hard predicting your actions lately, you know.” Looking back up, I saw him run a hand back and forth over his head a few times.

“I’m sorry . . .”

 
We stood in tense silence, and everything screamed at me to run. Well, to kick him out and just go on with my life. Classes were well under way and I didn’t know how much longer I could balance that life with the life of a soldier who was probably suffering from PTSD.