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He opened and closed his mouth before he just let out a “wow,” looking at me.
I let go of the straw. “Hello. Should I have gotten more coffee? Is your guest still here? I can take mine to my room if you’re not finished yet.”
Stephen snorted and then turned his back to us, pretending to look at the horizon as Roy quickly waved at Michael and ran down the driveway to do some possibly made-up patrol.
Michael took my hand and tugged me with him into the house. His hair was wet, as though he’d recently showered. He’d had PT earlier. Was he okay?
“Is your shoulder okay? What did the therapist say?”
He blinked. “It’s going to be fine. He said what you might have anticipated—I’ve been doing too much with it, but he’s worked with me before, so he’s hardly surprised. I can sleep on my side if it doesn’t hurt.” He cupped my cheek. “Your hair is so beautiful. It always is, however you wear it, but I never imagined it like this. Those curls.”
“I hated them when I was young. I like them now.” I threw my coffee in the garbage under his sink. I didn’t have time or anywhere to purchase clothes, so unfortunately, I wore the same outfit as when I left the house.
He whirled me around to look at him. “Did you do this because she said those ridiculous things to you?”
My temper, which had been cooling, surged. “You let her call me ugly, so thanks for that.”
“What?” He legitimately looked befuddled and then it was like his brain caught up. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t fathom that would bother you because it was so far from the truth. You lookedgorgeous. Why do you think she said that to you? I didn’t stand up for you because everyone in the room, except apparently you, knew you were the most beautiful woman anywhere, and I guess I forgot that for a second.”
I didn’t want to cry and only let two tears slip away before I stopped them. “I know I shouldn’t care. I don’t really. And I’ll just remember going forward that you aren’t going to be my savior if someone insults me. I’ll take care of it myself in the future.” I pulled out of his hold. “Oh,” I held up a bag I forgot I carried. “I bought my own blow dryer, too, or I guess you paid for it. I’ll leave it here when I go, since you bought it. Or I can take it, if you’d rather I didn’t leave any trace of my presence.”
I headed into my bedroom, and he followed me. “I hurt you. I’m sorry, but is it bothering you more that I didn’t jump in to tell Sylvie that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, anywhere? Or is it bothering you that I slept with her over a year ago?”
I dropped the bag on my bed. “You know what? It’s possible that both things are true.Boththings are bothering me. If you’d like, I can parade an ex in front of you so we could see how you like it?”
He laughed, but the sound held no humor. “Are you kidding? Every guy you’ve gone out with for years has been like a parade for me. I’ve had to vet them. Watch them. Wonder if you’ve taken them to your bed or not and not say one fucking word about it, because it’s my job to watch the woman I’m in love with—who rejected me—go out with other men.”
His words burned because of course they were true. I dated and dated over the years, trying to fill a hole I knew only Michael could fill.
“I am sorry that I hurt you for years,” I said and looked away. “I am so sorry that I did that. More sorry than you’ll ever know.”
My words seemed to cool his temper. “Bridget, I…”
“Just…let’s take a little time with this? Go do whatever you’d do, and I’ll stay in here. We both need to cool off. And think. Last night was great, but maybe it’s impossible.” We already knew I was fucked up, after all. Why wouldn’t I fuck this up, too?
He shook his head. “That sounds very reasonable. I don’t feel like being reasonable, Bridget. Let’s go for a walk. We said we were going to, so let’s walk to the hills and back. Right now.”
I remembered the discussion, but it felt like a week ago and not that morning. Michael held out his hand, and even though I should probably throw him out of the room so I could obsess in private, I took it. He strung our fingers together and walked out the backdoor with me easily. Movement caught my attention from the corner of my eye, as I was sure it was meant to, letting me know Tito was there.
It might feel private, but it wasn’t. Because of the circumstances, I likely wouldn’t know true privacy for a long time. I thought about that and remembered the threat of the Russians. Something tweaked at the edge of my memory, an irritation as if I half-forgot something. I asked him, “How did Sylvie know what happened to you and that I was here?”
“The hospital. She knew I got shot from someone there, and her source apparently told her you were with me from there. The rest she discerned or faked knowing more than she knew for sure.” He shrugged then brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I’m sorry for what I said and did and didn’t do. I really fucked today up.”
I tried to shrug and maybe managed it a little bit. “I got a pretty haircut from the experience.”
“I love it. I won’t let anyone talk to you like that again. I’ll defend you from verbal assaults. I will do better. I don’t know how to fight with women, so I ignore it when Sylvie jabs at me. I made a mistake.”
The path beneath our shoes was gravel, and I listened to the crunch of our footsteps for a few moments before I said, “You know she only does that—and did what she did today—because she’s in love with you.”
He squeezed my fingertips gently. “I’m sorry if I hurt her. It didn’t last very long, what happened between us. I was clear with her and polite in the end. I’m not in love with her, Bridget. I’ve only ever loved one woman in my life.”
I tried not to love that so much.
12
We made it to the hills, which were beautiful and rolling. I might have appreciated them more if it hadn’t started to drizzle icy rain. My sweatshirt didn’t have a hood and neither did Michael’s. Fortunately, on the walk back, it stopped and then the breeze felt nice. I supposed I should be giving a thought to my hair. The rain probably didn’t help it, but worrying about how I looked didn’t come naturally to me. I was beginning to think it never would.
“What are you thinking about?” Michael squeezed my hand again. I appreciated how he allowed me to linger in silence if my thoughts strayed. I was a person who did like to get lost in my head, so it was nice to not just be seen, but also be appreciated.
