“I’m sorry to hear that, Trina.” He couldn’t imagine the sweet, happy young woman he’d known turning to drugs and alcohol. She’d been a bright light to Jessie’s sometimes darkness.
“I’m glad to know you didn’t end up like me,” she said. “I worried about it. I thought you might find the bottom of a bottle and not come out of it. That’s good.”
“No. I found something else to get addicted to.” He’d stayed in Bliss because he hadn’t been able to face going home. He’d bought the place on the mountain because he’d convinced himself that what he’d needed was time alone. “My rage.”
Her eyes widened, and she set down her mug. “I was angry with her, too.”
She didn’t understand. “I was…am angry with me.”
“Why?”
He couldn’t seem to make anyone understand. “I should have known who she was. I should have seen it. I asked her to marry me. I was ready to spend my life with her, have children with her, and all along she was someone completely different.”
Trina leaned in, her skin warmed by the glow of the fire. “But she wasn’t. I mean I never thought she could turn her back on her badge like that, but she wasn’t merely one moment in time, Michael. You’re viewing her whole life through that one incident, and I think that’s where you’re missing the point.”
“I would love for you to tell me the point.”
She stiffened, and he realized those words had come out harsh. They’d been yet another accusation, a way to put up walls so he didn’t have to be vulnerable again. Like the way he’d leapt on any slight possibility that the sweetest woman he’d ever met could have killed someone.
“I’m sorry.” He softened his tone and leaned in. “I really would love for you to tell me the point because I can’t find one. I meant what I said. I’ve been addicted to my anger. I’ve let it lead me, let it make all my choices. I don’t know how to let go of it.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Is it still anger? I was angry in the beginning, but I think it was because it was easier to be mad than to mourn.”
“I shouldn’t have to mourn.”
Her face softened, and she reached out to him, holding her palm up. “None of us should, but you have to mourn or you can’t heal. Even if what you mourn is the love you gave her, you have to see that nothing she did invalidated how you felt. You loved her. You have to mourn the life you could have had. Even if it wasn’t real. It was real to you. My life with her was real to me. The rest of the world can shrug and say she deserved it, but we have to acknowledge that she’s gone and it affects us. It makes us sad. It leaves a hole. Anger has a place, but so does our sorrow.”
He didn’t want that sorrow. It struck him suddenly that he didn’t want what could be a wave of pain to hit him. He didn’t want to mourn the years of his life he’d enjoyed. It had been the first time he’d thought he could have something good, and she’d ruined it.
The anger rose again, a loyal companion that always protected him.
Protected him from unwanted emotion.
Protected him from being vulnerable.
Protected him from any kind of happiness he might find if he could only be fucking brave enough to confront what had really happened, what he really felt.
“I’m ashamed I loved her.”
Trina gasped and tears pooled in her eyes, and for a moment he thought she would walk away from him. She stood but instead of walking away, she moved to his side and slid her arm around his. “I’m so sorry you feel that way. I wish you could see there was good in it, too. I felt that way and it nearly killed me.”
“I can’t remember the good.”
“Do you want to?” She asked the question simply, as though she would easily accept any answer he gave her.
“I don’t know.” He turned slightly, not breaking contact with her. “Why are you being so nice to me? You were angry with me.”
“I talked to my dad, and he reminded me that I was here, too. Where you are. But I had him and Mom to hold on to. I wasn’t alone in my grief. He reminded me that anger can lead to regret, but kindness is never wasted. My sister didn’t take that lesson to heart, and I won’t make the same mistakes. So I’m sorry that I was harsh the other day. I guess seeing you again brought back some of my own pain, and I had a lapse when it came to dealing with it.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me. I was an asshole.”