by Alie Garnett
“Because even you know you’re running away. We love you, Dylan,” he said as she shut the door between them, closing off that part of her life.
Once again, Dylan was driving. This time, she had to be back before Monday, which was in three days. No way was she going to her apartment, though—it was too close to Holden and her baby.
Four hours after leaving them, she was in the middle of Iowa and in pain. She wished it was only pain from leaving Holden and Tim, but it was an actual physical pain.
After driving mile after mile away from her baby, the pain was a constant reminder that he needed her. It had been getting steadily worse for the last two hours, and now it was nearly unbearable.
Pulling into a twenty-four-hour super store, she decided there was only one thing she could do to make the pain go away. Once that was gone, she would go on with her life.
An hour later, she was back in the car, short a few hundred dollars, but her breasts were no longer going to explode. The pain was still there, however, just deeper. And there was nothing she could buy to stop that kind of pain.
Monday morning rolled around, and Holden had been sure she would’ve been back by now. Clearly, he had underestimated Dylan’s stubbornness. Now, he wasn’t sure he would ever see her again.
Yes, he knew she was starting back at the VA today, but for how long? Would she request a transfer back to the desert? How long would it be before she left?
Today was the first day Tim was going to stay with his parents for the day. No matter how much of a hard time they gave him, they loved Tim and were happy to help out until he found somewhere to put him during the day. He should have been looking even if Dylan had stayed, he knew she wouldn’t have given up her job to stay home with their boy.
Tim was happy in his car seat, oblivious to the fact that his mom was AWOL. Well, not oblivious, really. Tim had spent the entire weekend needing to be held, and when Holden held him, Tim either changed his mind or wanted someone else. And his dislike of an actual bottle was the stuff of legends. He had a lot of his mom in him.
With Tim secure and the diaper bag over his shoulder, Holden opened his front door to the morning sun; it was going to be a nice day today. As he stepped onto the porch, he kicked something he couldn’t see because of all the stuff he was carrying.
Shifting his load a bit to see what it was, he saw a medium-sized blue cooler sitting there. It looked new and still actually had tags on it.
Holden looked around the neighborhood and wondered who had misplaced their cooler.
Setting Tim’s seat and the diaper bag down, Holden crouched to open the cooler. Nestled in the ice were small bags of breast milk. Over a dozen of them, by the looks of it. The cooler was from Dylan.
Holden went back into the house with Tim and the cooler, then set Tim’s chair on the table as he unloaded the milk into the freezer. Each was marked with an amount and the date it was filled, all in the sloppy penmanship of a doctor.
He had no idea what it meant, but Holden couldn’t help but hope that she wasn’t giving up on them completely. Maybe she would still come back to them, once she realized she was wrong.
As long as she was still feeding Tim, there was hope.
Chapter 29
“Dr. Marquez, your three o’clock failed his pre-op, so there will be no operation today,” Jodi, her new nurse, stated as Dylan left her office to head for the operating room.
“How?” she asked in annoyance. She really didn’t have time for no-show patients.
“In his words, he ‘ate a little bit’ this morning, AKA a full breakfast. So, he’s been rescheduled, and I guess your day’s over.” The brunette reminded her a little of Elissa, though some of the bubbliness was missing.
“You can go ahead and head home. I have a few things to catch up on in my office.” She turned back to her sanctuary.
“Thanks, Dr. Marquez,” Jodi said with a smile and hurried off. Everyone loved leaving early every once in a while.
Well not everyone. Dylan hated it, preferring long shifts That way, she didn’t have to think about how empty her life was. Or how easy it would be to fill it.
Her only contact with Holden and Tim was when she dropped off milk every other day. Feeding her son was still her priority, even if she wasn’t there.
In the three weeks since she’d left, she had missed them both terribly. Tim was always on her mind—who was watching him while Holden was working? Was he eating? Had Holden transitioned him to formula and no longer needed her milk? Had he forgotten about her already?
She should really stop with the deliveries, but it was her only link, and she desperately needed it. Anything, at this point.
That day, she had also gone cold turkey on Elissa, who in return had stopped talking to her as well. After a few days, she had realized that her “friend” might have been tired of her. Too much calling and needing help, and too little asking about her friend’s life. But her friend’s life was perfect, so Dylan didn’t think there was a need.
Sitting back in her chair, she turned on the computer again to make notes and update charts. It was what most of her day consisted of. No more adrenaline rushes or split-second decisions; everything was mapped out days in advance.
Last week she had started looking for another placement, somewhere more interesting. Every job that seemed exciting had something missing from it: her family. Yes, it seemed Holden and Tim were a part of her now, a part she wasn’t ready to leave behind.
Regardless, she didn’t know how long she would be able to stay in a job that was not only boring but also within touching distance of a family she couldn’t be a part of.
Picking up her phone, she once again flipped through the dozen pictures she had of Tim. Why she hadn’t taken more, she didn’t know.
She came across one with him in his father's arms, and she started at them both. Holden was smiling, and Tim had his tongue out. It wasn’t the best picture ever, but it was the only one she had of them both, and she loved it.
A knock sounded on the door, then flung open before Dylan could respond. “I cannot believe your office looks exactly same as it did in Afghanistan!”
Elissa’s voice jolted her, and she nearly dropped her phone. Setting it down, she jumped out of her chair and hugged her friend.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Long, long story, but the good news is, I requested a transfer here. The bad news is that I’m in the OB.”
“Here? Why? I know you weren’t happy at work, but your family is there.”
“Nope, I took my family with me.” She smiled and pulled in a little boy from the hallway, lifting him into her arms. “Ryan, this is Dylan. Dylan, this my son, Ryan.”
“Hi, Ryan.” She looked at the little boy who resembled his mother with his blond hair and blue eyes. He immediately hid his face in Elissa’s shoulder.
“He’s tired. It was a long drive,” Elissa explained.
“What about Todd? Did he come?” Dylan looked over Elissa’s shoulder.
“Nope, he’s staying in Chicago.”
“Oh, God, Elissa! I am so sorry. What happened? I’m sorry I stopped calling.”
“I sort of stopped calling too. He had an affair—well, actually, he had been having an affair for years, but I finally figured it out.”
“I am so sorry. Do you have a hotel? If not, you can stay with me,” Dylan stated before she could even think about it. Her place was tiny, and Elissa was two people.
“I might take you up on that, because I don’t have a ton of money. It costs a lot of money to maintain two families. And apparently, mostly my money.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m done working for the day. Let’s go get something to eat before we head home.”
“Do you need to call Holden? I can’t wait to see Tim.”
“Umm, no. We aren’t together anymore either. He has the baby… It’s better that way.”
“What? For how long?”
“Almost th
ree weeks.”
“I see,” Elissa replied and they headed to the parking lot. After a little discussion of where to eat, they went off in separate directions toward their cars.
At the restaurant, they talked mostly about the past and what they knew about the people they had worked together with over the year they had been in Afghanistan. By dark, Dylan was leading them into the small apartment that had little to no room for guests, even if those guests seemed to have little in the way of stuff.
“Sorry it’s small, but I don’t usually need much.”
Looking at it from the eyes of her friend, she saw it as rundown and sad-looking. It wasn’t a home; it was a place she simply occupied for now. At this point in her life, she didn’t have one decoration that she took from place to place, just a box.
“We’ll sleep in here. It’ll be fine, Dylan. Thank you,” Elissa said as she ushered her son in. He was more leery of the place than his mom was.
“You two take the bedroom—there’s more room, and you’ve been traveling. I can sleep on the couch.” She smiled. They looked ready to drop, and she had gone more than one night without sleep in the past few weeks, what was another?
“If you’re sure.” Elissa stifled a huge yawn.
“I am. Let me grab clothes for the morning, so you can sleep in.” She hurried into the bedroom as Elissa took their suitcase and headed that way also.
After grabbing a few things, she moved the box she had taken back with her from Holden’s off the top of the dresser. She had put it down the first day and hadn’t moved it since, but now Elissa needed the room, so she would store it in the hall closet.
Elissa gave her a weary smile as they passed and within minutes, Dylan was on the couch, and Elissa and Ryan were in the bedroom, mostly silent. Dylan knew her friend was devastated about her husband, simply because she had never even thought about him straying. Even if there had been offers over the year, she had never even thought about it. Every other word out of her mouth had been about that man and what they’d either done or were going to do. Now he had broken her heart into a million pieces.
She set the box on the coffee table and took out the stack of papers she had received from Holden while they were still in Afghanistan. Looking through the drawings of flowers and trinkets, she suddenly missed getting a new one from him every day.
After folding them back up, she put them into the box and pulled out the letters she had received from Marquez years before. He hadn’t been great about writing, but she knew he loved to receive letters from her, so she had sent dozens, while he had only sent a handful back.
After all these years, she didn’t need to open them to know what they said—she had them memorized. Either way, it didn’t matter what they said… They were from him.
Her maiden name was on them: J. Dylannski. No letters had been received like that after they had married, not that they should have said anything different. When they had married, she had planned to keep her name. Only when she had sent in the paperwork did she change her mind; Chase had never known. It was supposed to have been a surprise when he came back.
Pulling out the pictures of them, she saw a much younger version of herself. They had taken dozens of pictures at the beach that day so long ago, but Dylan only had a few survivors left.
Looking closely at the young man who had stolen her heart so many years before, she could barely remember his blond hair and tried to remember if his eyes were blue or green.
Had she loved him because she needed someone to love, or had their love been deeper than that? When he had died, her entire world had collapsed in a way like never before. He had been her rock, and when he was gone, she had nothing to hold on to. After a while, she didn’t hold on to anything anymore, fearing that it would eventually be taken away as well.
She carefully put the pictures and letters back in the box, and as she did, her hand brushed the pile of letters from her mom. Dylan hesitated, but then pulled them out and looked at them as well. “Jessica Dylannski” was written on the top one, though it had been written five years before. At that time, she had been in Afghanistan, but at a different hospital than the last time.
Flipping it over in her hand, she let the other seven or so fall back into the box. The letter was light, lighter than the ones from Marquez.
Carefully and slowly, she opened the letter she had carried from the desert to the States and back again, only to once again be on American soil. Now it was even in the same town it was written in.
It was a one-page letter written on lined paper, and she saw her name at the top. Oddly, when she was little, her mother had called her Jessie, like her father, but she’d been Jessica or Jess for years before her mom moved them from their house.
How are you doing? I hope you are well. I pray for you every day. They don’t say where you are or what you are doing, but you are there and in danger. I worry.
Jenna’s daughters made you a care package, but it was returned to us. It seems you never get those—they always come back to us. Jenna has finally agreed to come and work with me. Her job at the insurance agency was cut last summer, and she has been looking for something but hasn’t had any luck. Now, she will be working with me! Maybe one day, you can come and work here too. Doug says I’m silly to want to work with my kids, but DJ mostly works with him, so how can I be the silly one?
Happy birthday if these letters are slow. Your birthday card will be in my next letter. I don’t know how fast you get these letters, though. I talked to a guy who had been there a few years before, and he said they were slow. He didn’t know you, I asked.
I am so proud of you, and no matter what you think, I love you. I made a mistake that I can never change, but I want you back in my life. Even if you can never forgive me for that, I want you to know that I do love you and that I am so proud of who you are and what you’re doing out there.
Love always, Mom
Dylan wiped away tears as she opened and read the other seven letters—they were all the same. They all ended the same way, saying she didn’t have to be alone and that she had chosen to be alone all along.
Her mother had admitted that leaving her with Jesse Dylannski had been a huge, unforgivable event. Was she willing to admit that she had made just as big of a mistake by never calling her mom. That one call would have gotten her out of that situation, but Dylan had been to stubborn to actually make the call.
Instead, she had taken each and every beating like she deserved it, because in her mind she did. She was just like him. But maybe everyone was right; maybe she was a martyr, punishing herself for the faults of others.
After six weeks with him, she knew there was nothing Tim could ever do that would cause her to abuse him like that. At this point, she was still providing him meals because she couldn’t bear the thought that he would go hungry for even a moment.
She had destroyed the only good thing to happen to her in years. She had been callous enough to walk away from her family; not once, but twice in her life. It was beginning to dawn on her that she had made a huge mistake…both times.
Chapter 30
Tim was exhausted to the point of crying uncontrollably. Holden couldn’t blame him; his life was pretty hard. The little guy spent most of his day entertaining his grandparents, only to be sent home at night with the crabby bear he would one day call dad.
After nearly three weeks, Holden would’ve thought he’d be used to Dylan being gone, but every day when she wasn’t there, he was pissed off again. It wasn’t rational, but it was what happened.
So far, he hadn’t caught her dropping off the milk. He’d tried, but she was very clever and an early riser. Without fail, there had been a new package for Tim every other day.
Tim had decided bottle feeding was okay, but sometimes when they were alone, he got stubborn and wouldn’t drink. Today was one of those days.
Bouncing him as he paced, Holden hoped that the kid would give up and just fall asleep, but so far, that had never happened. At some
point, Tim would give in and take the bottle. Holden just had to be patient for a little longer.
After checking the baby’s diaper one more time, Holden admitted he was maybe in over his head with his son. He was adorable when he wasn’t screaming bloody murder after 10 p.m.
Grabbing the bottle again from the counter, he sat in his recliner and tried to convince Tim to take the bottle, but he wasn’t having it. Tim shook his little head back and forth, trying to get the nipple dislodged from his mouth.
The doorbell chimed just as Holden threw the bottle at the wall. Now his neighbors were probably going to complain at him for the noise—he would if it was him on the other side of the door.
Stomping over to it, he swung it open, letting the person on the other side see the sobbing baby in his arms. He was doing his best, so whoever it was could just go and...
It was Dylan, dressed in fatigues, right down to the hat on her head. In her arms was a cooler, one that looked just like a dozen of them that were in his garage.
Her blue eyes were wide with worry and staring at the baby in his arms. Without hesitation, she dropped the cooler and grabbed the baby to her chest.
Relief flooded through Holden, and he picked up the cooler and took it to the kitchen. As usual, he unloaded it in the freezer and set the cooler by the back door.
Returning to the living room, he saw her murmuring something to the baby as she unbuttoned her shirt with one hand. Their son, for his part, had stopped sobbing and was listening to everything she was saying.
Tim’s lip quivered as she got the last button undone and arranged her T-shirt and bra until he could get what he had been needing from her. Once he latched on, he actually groaned loud enough for Holden could hear him across the room.
“He wasn’t taking a bottle tonight,” Holden said softly, not wanting to spook her.
