“Right.” The smile faded. “It felt like that, though. Laramie, dripping poison into my ear. Turning me against you. Then he showed me those pictures. And I already had my worries, you know? The ones we talked about. Facing that first deployment.”
I stroked his hand where it rested in mine. “Believe it or not, I did understand those worries. It’s really hard face the same circumstance that bit you in the ass before and not wonder if it would bite you again.”
“I never deserved you.” He gave me a sad smile. “Something snapped, babe. Laramie kept talking, and there were those pictures, and it felt like all that fear broke open. All I could think was, ‘It’s happening again. It’s happening again, and if I can get away, maybe I can pull myself back together like I did before.’ I thought you’d admit to it, and then I’dknow. I could get away. Except you got mad, and then I didn’t know anymore. I couldn’t sort out what was true, because I got angry, too. It felt like, shit, he’s attacking my brother. My brother would never lie to me. It was so easy to go into a mode to fight you so I could get angry. Anger was easy. The rest was just so hard.”
Words poured out of him in a rush. I wondered how many nights he’d laid in bed alone, waiting to let the torrent out and exorcise the demon of regret that tore at him. As many as I had, maybe. I’d spent my fair share of sleepless nights staring at the ceiling, replaying conversations and wishing I’d spoken up about Joan.
“I understand,” I said. “Anger was as easy for you as silence was for me. Neither was the right answer, but both felt secure. Like we could protect ourselves with them. They were shields.”
“Yeah. Except I hit you with my shield and hurt you.”
“Captain America, you are not.”
That won me a weak chuckle. “Maybe we both made some screw-ups.”
“We did.”
“Then I left, though.” His other hand lifted to touch my face again. “I was so mad at you, babe. You promised you’d go to Mail Call, but the papers didn’t show up before we left. Laramie wound me up, said I’d have to fight you for that divorce, and I was ready to. Right up until about a week into our flight out to Mars.”
I leaned my face into his hand, like a cat who’s starved for touch. “What changed?”
“I had a chance to think. Laramie wasn’t there to poke the wound. There’s lots of time with your thoughts on a transport ship, and the more hours I spent thinking, the more I realized I’d handled literally everything wrong.” His hand flexed as his thumb moved to caress my cheekbone.
“An actual conversation and opportunity to explain would have been nice. So would you listening to me. Or trusting me.”
“I realized that. Well. Xasan kind of hit me over the head with it, when I went to see him and confessed what I did.” Jackson coughed. “He gave me an earful. By the time we were halfway to Mars, I knew I had to call you the moment the communications blackout lifted. I had to apologize. I had to get you back. If you’d have me. If youwillhave me.”
Soulful eyes met mine. Pieces of my heart smoothed over the sharp, jagged edges that had cut me to ribbons over the last several months, and began to knit together again. Natural wariness tried to stop the healing as it reminded me I didn’thaveto take him back. He wasn’t wrong when he said he’d deserve it if I turned him away.
He’d hurt me. Time and again, he had forced me to prove my loyalty and my love, and he’d spent as much time doubting me as he had loving me. Yet those doubts had skewed toward the start of our marriage, with more uncertainty at the beginning and less every day we spent together. He had gained self-awareness, and a desire to leave that doubt behind.
If not for Laramie’s insidious campaign to break us up, Jackson might have healed from Owen’s betrayal faster and stronger than he had. We might never have reached these straits if his brother, a person Jackson trusted and loved, hadn’t betrayed him, too. There would have been arguments. Dark nights when the doubt tried to overcome him. Of course there would have. Jackson had trauma and wounds of the heart that needed time to fully scab over.
The question was, did I believe he loved me? Truly loved me, enough to work through the remains of his hurts and trust me as I deserved? Did I believe he deserved another opportunity to show me he could treat me with respect and faith? I had offers. A life waiting for me, one with a medical degree and the career I had always dreamed of. I had options that did not include Jackson Sadler.
Except I didn’twantthose options. I didn’t want a life without the man who had loved me and helped me find the truth of who I was. I wantedhim, for better or worse, in sickness and in health.
“We get counseling to help us learn to communicate,” I said.
Jackson nodded. The first rays of hope broke over his face.
“And we have a long talk about Laramie. By which I mean I talk, you listen, and then you deal with the bastard.”
He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it. “I will have your back. From today on,youare the most important person in my life. I made my vows to you. I should have put you first this whole time.”
“Then it’s settled.” It took a little effort, but I made space next to Jackson in the hospital bed so I could curl up against his side. It was the least comfortable cuddle I have ever attempted.
It is also my favorite. Ten out of ten, would cuddle in a hospital bed on Mars again.
“I vowed to stay with you until death did us part,” I said, as I laid my head against his chest to hear his heart beating in my ear. “And I just came a long-ass way to save your life. It’d be stupid to throw away all that work now, don’t you think?”
33HOMECOMING
A week later,Jackson went home to Earth. He had a long road to full recovery, one with breathing exercises for his resurfaced lungs and physical therapy to give his stamina back, and Mars was not the best environment for either. Canned, recycled air with microscopic motes of Mars dust and thirty-eight percent gravity do not make for an optimal therapeutic environment.
Also, you know, the constant threat of attack. Hard to rest when uppity forces huck artillery at you for funsies. Mars Base Bravo was as safe as you got on Mars, but that didn’t stop the opposition from seeing how far they could lob a missile for shits and giggles.
We had enough wounded who needed a spot on the return ship that they had no space for healthy, useful me. Jackson and I talked about it, and I agreed to stay behind and help Doctor Flannigan. Randall and Brenda would pick Jackson up and take him to their home to recover. He’d have all the resources he needed to rest, heal, and return to fighting frame.