Inflamed: A Love Letters Novel

by Kristen Blakely

  “Who’s done?” she asked as she set the tray down. “Come on and try these, boys. It’s Debra’s recipe, but I doubled the chocolate chips.”

  Grown men swarmed around the cupcakes like flies.

  Patti’s sharp gaze sought out Sean. “Who’s done?” she asked again.

  “Debra and I. We broke up a week ago.”

  “Why?”

  Why?

  Because Debra had been right about him. Saving animals had been his calling as a child. He had brought home stray and abandoned pets, nursed them back to full health, and then found homes for them. As an adult, he had progressed to saving people, like Romina.

  And eventually Debra and Aidan. He cared about them, but when did care become love? He didn’t know.

  What did love look like? Where were the bright flashing Neon signs, Vegas-style, when he needed them?

  He had never found love with Romina, not in the five years they had been together. He had always been tense around her, dreading the next complaint that would fall from her lips.

  With Debra, however, bursts of mutual laughter fit easily into the comfortable silence between them. Conversation were as much words as they were sideway glances and knowing smiles, the silent contact of hands and fingertips, the quick brush of her lips as she stopped to offer and receive a kiss. With Debra, it—whatever it was—had evolved sweetly and naturally over home-cooked meals and evenings cuddling on the couch. Even if she had never ever said “thank you” for his offhanded suggestion that she start her catering business, he would have willingly spent every evening in her company and in Aidan’s.

  If that wasn’t love, then what was?

  The million-dollar question. When does love become love?

  Screams from the street penetrated the closed door of the fire station. Sean flung the door open and raced out, straight into a crowd of people hurrying away from the town square. “What’s going on?”

  A young man, about his age, stumbled to a stop. “A gunman.”

  “What? In the square?”

  The man shook his head. “In the café.”

  “Café? Where’s Debra?”

  “The young man’s chest heaved. “She’s still in there. With him.”

  Sean sprinted to the café. From across the street, he caught a glimpse of Debra standing behind the counter, her face pale. The gunman gesticulated, the gun moving with his wild gestures. He was shouting at her although Sean could not make out any words.

  The back entrance.

  Sean ducked into the alley and eased open the back door that was never locked during business hours. He crept into the kitchen and storage area, toward the sliding door separating the kitchen from the café. The sound of a familiar voice carried through the door that was slightly ajar.

  “She wasn’t crazy. Not like Brian and Sean said,” Garry rasped, his voice breaking. “And now Bettina says it’s our fault—that we should have brought her to the doctor, like Sean told us to. But it wasn’t our fault. It was those boys. They did it to her.”

  “Did what to her?” Debra’s voice was low.

  “Broke her heart when they left. First Brian, then Sean. Then there was the baby. They said there was never any baby, but she said there was, so there was.”

  “Did you take her to a doctor for pre-natal care?”

  “No, she lost the baby before she could get to a doctor. She wanted the baby.”

  “I’m sure she did. Was she your only child?”

  “Yes, my Romina.”

  “I’m sorry. It must have been hard to lose her.”

  “It didn’t have to end the way it did. It shouldn’t have. She was young, so young.” Garry’s guttural voice turned into a snarl. “It’s because of you. Sean would have come back to her if you hadn’t kept him away.”

  “Sean didn’t think he could help her anymore.”

  “He didn’t try hard enough.”

  “He tried; he did everything he could for five years. I’ve only known Sean for three months, but I know his heart. He’s a kind man, a good man. He tried to help—”

  “But he left her.”

  “No one stays forever. Not friends and not even family. The man who got me pregnant left because he didn’t love me or our son. My parents, who might have stayed to help me through single parenthood, were taken from me in a car accident. When Sean came to Havre de Grace, I was at my lowest, but I’d been there for so long, I’d forgotten how to hope for more. He showed me how to want more and expect more. He’s a good friend, but that’s all he is. He’s told me as much.”

  Garry’s laugh was a bitter sound. “If you or Sean think that, then you’re both blind and stupid. I know what I saw in the hospital when you walked in and he turned to look at you. He’s never looked at Romina that way. Never.”

  “If Sean never loved Romina, then he far exceeded the bounds of duty when he stayed with her for five years, trying to help her.”

  “She loved him.”

  “I’m sure she did. It’s hard not to love a good man, a man who is kind. I made that mistake, too, but I’m not going to let it wreck me. Life isn’t always about love. Friendship can be wonderful, especially from a man like Sean. It can be enough. Many people live with so much less.”

  “Romina needed more, so much more.”

  “Yes. She had every right to expect it from someone special, just like I do. But it wasn’t Sean’s job to provide it. Not for her and not for me.”

  Garry was silent for a long moment. Sean took a chance and edged closer to the opening in the door. Debra stood with her back to the door—Sean could not see her face—but Garry looked defeated, his anger as limp as a deflated balloon. His right hand hung by his side.

  A heavy sigh sagged out of Garry. “I wish she were still here. I wish I could turn back time—”

  Sirens wailed down the street and screeched to a stop outside the café. Two police cars cut off street traffic as policemen jumped out of the vehicles.

  Garry’s arm swung up as he spun to face the new threat.

  Sean prepared to push the door open—he could rush Garry, maybe disarm him—but Debra’s voice stopped Sean before he lunged into the cafe. “Sir, please. You’ve waved a gun around, but you haven’t hurt anyone. Please put the gun down.”

  Garry grunted. “They’re gonna arrest me.”

  “You haven’t hurt anyone,” Debra said quietly. “You’re okay. I’m okay. The only damage is a broken light. Please put the gun down, and everything will be okay.”

  Sean’s heart thumped rapidly as indecision flickered over Garry’s face. For a seemingly endless moment, Debra stood motionless, vulnerable, the target of Garry’s anger but also the only person who could defuse it.

  In a rough motion, Garry set the gun down on the countertop and walked toward the café door, his hands held away from his sides. The moment he stepped out, the police rushed forward, handcuffed him, and led him to a police car.

  “Thank God, you’re all right.” Sean rushed out from behind the kitchen door.

  Debra spun around. “Sean. You were there? Oh, I was so afraid.”

  “You did great. You were amazing.” He pulled her into his arms and stroked her long hair. Her heart thudded against his chest, the beat fast. Her body shook as shock suddenly sapped her strength. He squeezed her to him, trying to will steel back into her spine. Panic clawed at him and stole his breath even though the threat was over.

  Was it? His mind reeled.

  Debra.

  When she had been strong, he had been too, even though his heart had skittered like a nervous deer.

  When she fell apart—

  A policeman walked into the café. “Debra. Sean.” He picked up Garry’s gun and placed it in an evidence bag. His glance flicked across the room. “You two okay?”

  “Yes.” Debra’s voice trembled.

  “Are you sure? An ambulance is on its way. You should get checked out, just in case.”

  “I’m fine.” Debra tried to push away from S
ean, but he did not loosen his grip much. “I just need to clean up the glass and—”

  “I think you need to take the rest of the day off,” Sean said. With effort, he steadied his voice. Willpower kept his hands from trembling. He needed to be strong; he could not let Debra see how badly he had been shaken, first by her cheating death and then by having her collapse in his arms. “It’s almost closing time anyway. I’ll clean up the glass shards. I don’t think anyone will flip out if you close for the rest of the day. Aidan’s going to be home soon, and you better be there to meet him before he hears about the café shooting from anyone else.”

  Patti and Hank appeared at the entrance of the café. “Why don’t you go with her, Sean?” Patti said. “I’ve got the café. She’ll probably appreciate having you around while the cops are taking her statement.”

  The policeman nodded. “We can do it at your home. I’ll be over in about fifteen minutes once we confirm this area’s clear and take photographs for evidence.”

  “Okay.” Debra dug in her pocket for her keys, but Sean took it out of her hands.

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “I’m okay,” she insisted.

  That’s my girl. Stubborn and strong. “Let’s talk again after the facts have had some time to settle in.”

  The facts did not hit Debra, not until she stepped into her house and the familiar scents of home surrounded her.

  She could have lost all of it to a father driven half-mad with grief over the loss of his only daughter. Her breath trembled and she had to lean against the wall before shock drove her to her knees. Sean’s strong arms wrapped around her waist, and he helped her to the couch. “Why don’t you just sit and close your eyes. I’ll get some tea going.”

  “Coffee.”

  You won’t want caffeine anywhere in your system; trust me on that. You’re getting herbal tea.”

  The policeman arrived within a few minutes and took Debra’s statement. The questions were simple, the facts straightforward. The store’s security cameras had captured the scene as it unfolded, and all Debra had to do was verify the evidence. “Nice job holding his attention while the café cleared of customers, and then talking him into putting his gun down.” The policeman closed his notebook and stood, his interview concluded. “It could have been a great deal worse. Thanks to you and your clear head, it wasn’t.”

  “I didn’t feel particularly brave in there.”

  “Luckily, courage isn’t a feeling. It’s just what you have inside of you.” The cop grinned and glanced at the street as a yellow school bus pulled up. “Let me get out of here and leave you two in peace.” He stepped out of the doorway as Aidan scrambled in. “Your mom’s a hero,” he told the wide-eyed boy.

  “Really?” Aidan ran to Debra’s side. “What happened, Mom?”

  Her hand trembled against Aidan’s sweaty hair as she delivered a sanitized version of what happened at the café. If Garry had been angrier, if she had panicked, if Garry’s first shot had been dead-on, she would not be sitting in her living room, cuddling her son, telling him that everything was all right.

  Sean appeared in the doorway of the living room. “Hey, Aidan, I heated up some pizza for you. Why don’t you go grab a bite and then you can do your homework.”

  “Okay.” Aidan pecked a quick kiss on Debra’s cheek before scurrying out of the living room.

  Sean, however, remained where he was, at the doorway—not leaving, but not coming closer either. “Would you like some pizza too, or just the tea?”

  She drew a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’ll get up in a moment and get my tea.”

  “I’ll bring it to you.”

  “No, really, I’m fine. I can do it.” She leaned forward, prepare to rise, but in an instant, Sean was beside her. His lips were on hers, his kiss desperate, almost feverish. She froze for a second before reciprocating with as much fervor, as much heat.

  Sean’s presence—and his love—made her feel alive. In that moment, she desperately needed it. She needed him, even if it was ultimately an illusion.

  She did not object when he brought her tea and pizza. She did not object when he supervised Aidan’s homework and patiently explained why x was such a big deal in algebra and why it never seemed to know who it was. Promptly at 8 p.m., he hustled Aidan upstairs to get ready for bed.

  The sounds of male laughter drifted down to her, but within a half hour, all had fallen silent.

  Debra swallowed hard, bracing for the sound of Sean’s footsteps on the stairs, a prelude to his departure. Soon, too soon, she heard him approach.

  “Do you want any more tea?” he asked from the doorway.

  “No, I’m fine,” she said, tired of sounding like a broken record. “I’ll just rest here for a few more minutes and then get ready for bed. I’m sorry about screwing up your plans for the evening. I know you weren’t planning on coming over.”

  “Forget it, Debra, You needed me around—”

  “I did need a friend, so thank you for helping.”

  He looked pained. “Don’t push me away.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m not. I’m saying thank you.”

  “You’re saying, ‘Thank you, I’m fine now. Go away.’”

  Debra’s lips twisted into a quirky smile. “Maybe I am, but it’s still hard for me to be around you. Right now, I’m feeling shaken enough to confuse compassion for love, but I’m trying not to. I’ve been sitting here, replaying our last conversation, reminding myself that this is just what you do for everyone.” And I’m so tired. If I have to say it to myself one more time, I might just break down and ask you to stay anyway—that I’ll take your compassion and your pity and just call it love, and learn to be okay with it.

  Until the day you’re not okay with it and you walk away from your charity case, looking for real love.

  For Aidan’s sake, for her own sake, she had to be strong. She had to hold out for more because she deserved more.

  She pushed to her feet and leaned down to pick up her empty mug, but Sean’s hands closed around hers. The contact sizzled through her. But desire wasn’t love, she reminded herself and tugged her hands free.

  Sean grimaced. “Damn it, Debra. Will you let me say I’m sorry?”

  “What for?”

  “What I said last week about not knowing the difference between being kind and being in love. I do know the difference.”

  “I imagine the shooting brought out all your protective instincts, but really, I’m okay now. I’m not your charity case anymore. You can go find another good cause to champion.”

  He winced. “Okay, I deserved that for being slow and stupid, for not being brave enough to recognize love when it was in front of me.”

  “Oh, so you’re calling it love now?”

  “I didn’t recognize it in our daily meals and evening walks in the park. I didn’t even recognize it in the peace of falling asleep beside you at night and the comfort of waking beside you in the morning. It felt so normal, I didn’t realize how special it was until I felt the panic, the fear, that sent me racing to the café when I heard you were in there with a gunman. I didn’t give a damn if I got hurt. I couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt. I’d never felt anything like that before. Not with Romina, not even at the beginning of our relationship, before I lost faith in her recovery. It was never love with Romina, just duty, and in the end, duty wasn’t enough. But with you, it was never about duty. It was love, from the start. I just never realized the difference until I thought I might lose you, until the thought that you could have been hurt knocked me completely off my feet.”

  “Are you sure, Sean? Are you certain you’re not just getting carried away by your protective instincts?

  “No.” He shook his head. “Like Romina’s parents, I was on an emotional roller coaster and looking for someone to blame. I took it out on you because you were there for me; you hung around when no one else did. I know I was behaving like a sulky child, but I was seeing the light—in my slow, ponderou
s way—even before I heard that Garry had shown up at the café with a gun. I was already moving in the right direction; the crisis just got me there faster. Give me a chance, Debra. I know you’ve been hurt so often by people who shouldn’t have hurt you, but give me one more chance to prove to you I know the difference between duty and love, and that what we have is love.”

  She stared at him, her breath coming in short, quick heaves. The happiness she thought had been torn from her hands reformed like mists. If she stared too hard at it, would it vanish?

  He lowered his head to breathe a kiss on her knuckles. “Please. For Aidan’s sake, for your sake, and for mine, give us all a chance.”

  “Yes, Sean,” she murmured. The weight against her chest suddenly lightened. With a smile, she leaned in to kiss him. Yes. A thousand times, yes.

  Epilogue

  A month later, on a glorious morning in May, Debra glanced up as the doorbell of the café tinkled, signaling a new customer. She flashed the familiar young man a smile. “Passing through again, right on schedule. I promise, there’s no gunman this time.”

  He smiled. “I’ll take the usual; actually, make it a large. It may be a while before I come this way again.”

  Debra reached for a cup to fill with his black Americano. “It’s graduation weekend for your girlfriend, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.” He smiled, but the gleam did not reach his eyes. “The years kind of sneak up on you, and before you know it, you’ve practically spent a lifetime with one person.”

  “I spent what felt like a lifetime alone, but not any more.” Debra glanced out the window at the town square where Sean and Aidan hung out in the wide green space. Jewel romped between them in search of an elusive tennis ball.

  In the past month since the shooting, since the second chance Debra had granted all of them, life had been normal—blissfully, delightfully normal. There was no other word to use to describe the simple routine of each day, of breakfast and dinners together, of laughter and conversation over home-cooked meals, of long walks each evening with a half-grown dog who was larger than a baby elephant. Life was normal—beautifully normal—and it was everything Aidan, Sean, and she needed.