“I’m sure you were.”
He was so warm against her cheek, against her breast andher belly and her thighs. He was a gift she’d never expected, a surprising comfort in the rain.
“I’d forgotten how nice it was just to share space withsomething other than a cat,” she admitted out loud with ashy smile.
Tony dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I was thinking thesame thing. Imagine how fun it would be on a real bed.”
Claire thought of that big four-poster in her room she’dnever shared with a soul. She thought of Tony sprawled outin it in the morning with the early sun gilding his hair and hiseyes closed in comfort. She thought what it would be like to have him belong in that bed, and the comfort died. Ambivalence crept up like a cold tide and took her smile.
He would be too close.
He was too close already.
She couldn’t allow herself to hope for that much, whenshe knew what the cost would be to gain it. And she simplydidn’t have the coin to pay a price like that.
“It’s been since Sam,” she said, challenging him withghosts and consequences.
“Your husband.”
She nodded so that her cheek rubbed against his skin. Shesated herself on him while she had the chance. “And evenbefore he died... before he left... well, the Hendersonhousehold wasn’t a very happy one.”
“Johnny talked about it a little.”
“Johnny doesn’t know.”
Claire heard a heartbeat’s worth of hesitation. She closedher eyes, knowing her challenge had been taken. Knowingthat the peace was over, and that it was her fault. Not certain at all whether she was relieved or sorry.
“He said his dad was pretty depressed toward the end.Paranoid. Kept a gun under the pillow and flew into terrible rages.”
Claire died a little all over again, even though she’dknown it all along. Hearing it in Johnny’s words when he’dnever shared them with her.
“It must have been tough to realize that you couldn’t helphim,” Tony offered quietly.
All the recriminations squeezed up in her, taking herbreath. All the missed chances, the fruitless arguments, thepleading. The long, terrible nights when he’d been drinking.
“I thought it would help... that we could help eachother.”
Tony’s hand stilled, his arms tightening gently aroundher. Wrapping her in warmth when she had felt so cold forso long. “Was he diagnosed with PTSD?”
“Yes.” Such a simple word that couldn’t possibly convey the nightmares Sam had suffered.
“Sounds like a pretty severe case.”
Finally she said what she hadn’t said to anyone else. “Hekilled himself. Ran his car into a bridge abutment.”
Another hesitation, this one quiet with contemplation. “Iwondered.”
Tony wasn’t surprised. Just that realization shook Claireto the core. She’d held it to herself for so long, so certainthat no one would understand. That no one would realizehow hard she’d tried to keep him from that lonely place.
How horribly attractive his solution seemed on the worstnights.
“He was so sad,” she admitted in a hushed voice. “He’dnever tell me why. Wouldn’t tell anybody. He’d just say thatsince I hadn’t been at Khe Sanh, I wouldn’t understand.”
“Khe Sanh was bad,” he agreed. “A lot of places were bad. But I don’t have to tell you that.”
Dangerous territory again. Defused a little by the solidwarmth of Tony’s body, the gentle comfort of his voice. The feeling of protection in the dark and silent room at the back of an empty building. Doors opened with no more than softwords and the age-old need to share. To share everything, especially the worst.
She hadn’t talked about it in so long. Hadn’t admitted it.It hadn’t been so bad that afternoon when they’d laughedabout stupid things. Couldn’t she just admit that she’d beenthere? That she should be able to cry for what she’d seen,what she’d done?
