Brazing (Forged in Fire #2)

by Lila Felix

  The Thai food rumbled in my stomach as agreement.

  She woke up sometime later and got up to go to the bathroom. I thought maybe she needed some water or something else, so I offered. “What do you need? What can I get you?”

  I knew my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth.

  “Come on, Bridger. You can’t pee for me. You’ve been doting on me all night.”

  She closed the door and I cleaned up our dinner mess while she was gone. I heard her throwing up soon after, but the door was locked.

  Pacing the floor, I listened to heave after heave of her getting sick. I needed to be in there, holding her hair or wiping her face—anything not to be out here useless as a tit on a boar hog.

  Finally, I heard the toilet flush for the last time. She came out a few minutes later looking like she was going to pass out any second.

  “Let me help you to bed.”

  She looked up at me with the hellfire of a thousand demons. Her eyes were squinted and angry. The tears that rolled down her face—I couldn’t tell if it was from the throwing up or whatever had her looking at me like the devil himself.

  “Who told you, huh? Who was it? At least if I’m going to be betrayed and lied to, I deserve to know who ratted me out!”

  I took a step back.

  “Oh, now you want to back off? All night you’ve been harping on my every move and now that we are both in the clear you want to give me some space? Bullshit. Just tell me, Bridger!”

  Her yelling was fierce, but her body denied the anger and the energy it took to exert it. Reaching for anything to help hold her up, she grabbed the foot rail of her bed and used it to guide her to a sitting position. I reached out to catch her, but she slapped my hand away.

  “Oh, no. No more helping little Ms. Sick. I’ve handled everything myself so far Bridger. What makes you think I want your help now? Some kisses in the woods and some lame ass messages in a bottle and you think I want you as my twenty-four-hour pity nurse? Wrong!”

  She paled a little more with each word. Her blatant anger stung, but it passed through me faster than I thought possible. The room grew warmer and she responded by throwing that damned hoodie on the floor beside her. Her cheeks pinked and I curtailed a smile. Pink cheeks signaled life to me.

  Even if it was in rage, I knew that she still had the fight in her and that was enough.

  I was wordless and defenseless against her anger. I deserved it all and more.

  But at the same time, I felt an equal loss of trust. I mourned the loss of a true connection I thought we shared. Why hadn’t she told me? Trust was a two-way street and if she couldn’t trust me, then how could I trust her?

  “I found out from West. But that’s not really the issue here.”

  I knelt in front of her, though she jerked her hands away when I tried to hold them. My voice remained completely calm just like I wanted it to. She needed calm and collected even though my insides were nothing even close to that.

  “Oh yeah? Please, Bridger, tell me what the real issue is.”

  Her feisty attitude did nothing to deter my hurt.

  “The real issue, Tate, is that you didn’t tell me first. You’ve lied to me for months. I fell in love with you again—hell, maybe I’ve been in love with you my whole life—and you couldn’t let me in. Have I ever given you a reason to think that I wouldn’t do anything but stand by you for whatever came our way—good or bad?”

  Her defenses fell and that may have hurt more than her lies. I didn’t like any part of her to falter, not even her anger. Her gaze went to the floor. Reaching for her hands once again, she let me hold them this time, I gave her a choice. That was what she wanted to retain in all this—her right to make choices about who she told and who she didn’t.

  “Now that I know and you know that I know, I’m gonna leave the choice with you. I’m going to go home and wait for you to call. If you want to be with me still, then tell me. If you don’t want me around while you finish up your treatments, then I will be there when you do want me. If you never want to see me again, then that’s fine too. Just know that I’m standing firm, loving you, one way or the other. I just need to hear it from you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Tate

  “Is there anyone I can call?” Cary asked from my bedside. I could hear the hope in her voice, the curiosity. “Maybe… a boy?”

  I snorted. “Mind your own damn business.”

  “Not a chance, Tatum Halloway. Not a chance.”

  I peeled my eyes open and tried to glare at my favorite nurse. I found myself smiling instead. Damn her. I wanted to hang onto my anger, hold it tight and let it feed me enough fire and brimstone to get me through this weekend.

  I’d been admitted yesterday when I went to see Dr. Masters because I had been feeling worse than usual. I hadn’t even been in the office long enough to check in before I blacked out.

  There had been a male nurse standing next to the circulation desk and he managed to catch me before I did any real damage to my body or brain. I was thankful that I didn’t also have a concussion, but I was frustrated with my weakness.

  I had a dumb infection and not enough white blood cells to fight it off. My body was in a dangerous place and they admitted me right away. This infection had the power to kill me if they didn’t get it under control.

  I couldn’t have talked Dr. Masters into letting me go home even if I had wanted to. And frankly, I was too tired to care anyway. It would have been different if I had a home to wait this out in, but the thought of suffering through the next couple days in my dorm room sounded like something out of the bottomless pits of hell.

  Thanks, but no thanks.

  I’d called Carter earlier this evening to let her know my plans had changed for this weekend. She promised to come up later and bring a deck of cards and ginger ale.

  “What happened to the boy, Tatum?” Cary hovered over me with raised brows and a pinched face.

  I pulled the blankets over my face. “If I would have known you were going to harass me all weekend, I would have gone home.” My voice sounded muffled beneath the blankets. My breath puffed in hot clouds around my face and I yanked them down, gasping for breath.

  “How many times have I told you that you can’t suffocate that way?” She did not look amused.

  I sucked in another fortifying breath of pure oxygen. “I don’t believe you,” I gasped. “I hate that feeling.”

  “It’s your own air!” She looked completely exasperated with me.

  “But it’s used! It’s like when hair falls out. I’m fine with touching my own hair until it comes out of my head. Then it’s the most disgusting thing on the planet. I know you feel the same way. I saw you use tweezers to pick off Katrina’s hair on the back of her sweater the last time I was here.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Have you seen Katrina’s hair? She might be my supervisor, but she needs a better conditioner.”

  I gave a weak laugh, the best I could do. “Don’t be a mean girl.”

  “Don’t hold gossip back from me then. It makes me mean.”

  “I’m cold. And hungry. And I have other needs you should be attending. Why are you all up in my grill over one dumb boy?”

  “Grill? Those meds went straight to your brain. And you’re not hungry. And there’s nothing I can do for you if you’re cold. You already have three blankets on you. I can’t steal anymore.”

  I let out an exasperated sigh and tried not to shiver. My bald head was wrapped in a scarf and it did nothing to hold in any body heat. Plus, this hospital set there temperature at freezer settings or something. I hadn’t stopped shaking since I arrived. “You’re a terrible nurse.”

  She started laughing like she couldn’t believe I just said that. She swatted my leg with her chart and then sunk down next to me. I enjoyed the warmth of her legs pressed against mine and the comfort she so freely gave me.

  The truth was she could have been a terrible nurse, or a cranky one, or one that didn�
��t care about me at all. But she wasn’t those things. In fact, I rarely met a nurse that didn’t make me feel completely comfortable and taken care of. Cary just went above and beyond her call of duty.

  If I didn’t have her during the last few months, I probably would have gone crazy.

  It was hard enough to get treated away from home and away from family. But with all the treatments, I hardly had any time to make friends either.

  I had Carter.

  And I had Cary.

  And for a little while I had Bridger.

  I sniffled and wiped at my nose with the palm of my hand.

  “Tell me what happened with that boy. The cute, buff one. Did y’all break up? Did he break your heart? I need to know.”

  “There’s not much of a story there.”

  Her eyebrows scrunched together over her eyes. “If he hurt you, Tatum, there are ways to get revenge. You know all the right people.” She hooked a thumb at herself and her eyes danced with mischief.

  I laughed unexpectedly again. “Revenge!” I was quickly out of breath from laughing so hard. I tried to steady out my giggles and asked, “Just out of curiosity, how are you the right people?”

  She waved me off like I was crazy. “All people in the medical field are the right people. For instance, you could send him to Dr. Masters for a prostate exam. If he hurt you, I’m fairly confident we could enlist her help. She wouldn’t want to set back your treatment because of a broken heart, you know. Or we could fudge the results on some mandatory tests after his yearly physical and send him in for multiple colonoscopies. He’s not allergic to anything, is he?”

  I couldn’t stop laughing. She was so crazy. And I loved her to pieces. “At least you didn’t suggest murder.”

  “Do I look like a murderer to you?”

  “No! But I’m not as creative with my revenge. Remind me never to piss you off!”

  She smiled a shit-eating-grin, like she’d just won the lottery by cheating, but knew she could get away with it. “I’m supposed to remind you not to piss me off. So tell me about the boy.”

  I groaned. She got me. The trickster. “You sneaky biotch.”

  “Hey! Watch the language. If I had known you were going to be this grumpy, I would have sent Katrina in to shed all over you.”

  “You’re so full of it tonight!” She narrowed her eyes on me and I knew I was trapped. “Fine. He knows. He knows all about this.” I gestured down at my body with my IV-ed hand. “Someone told him I was sick. I think he knew for days before he said something.”

  “He went for days? So that means he wasn’t mad at you for lying to him for months?” She sounded completely shocked. And I didn’t blame her. I was still shocked over that too.

  Through the course of my treatment, I’d been keeping her updated on all things Bridger-related. Except for today of course, she’d gotten a complete rundown of all things exciting and romantic in my life.

  Each time I’d seen her, she had encouraged me to be honest with him, to tell him everything. Each week, I’d put her off and ignored her pleas for honesty.

  I’d been stupid not to listen to her. And even dumber not to tell Bridger.

  I could see that now.

  “I don’t get it. He’s not mad at me. I mean, maybe a little bit. But I think he’s more hurt than anything. And I understand that. I would be hurt if I were in his position.”

  “So, you apologized and he didn’t want to hear it?”

  I squirmed in the bed and avoided her piercing eyes. “Um, not exactly.”

  “Tatum M. Halloway! You haven’t apologized?”

  “Makenzie. The M stands for Makenzie.”

  She waved me off again. “I knew that. I just couldn’t remember.” She sucked in a deep breath and then railed at me. “You owe that boy an apology. Even if he decides not to stick with you, you still owe him an apology. You lied, Tate! A lot of times! And you led him on without giving him a chance to decide if this was something he could deal with or not!”

  “That’s the whole point! I lied because I didn’t want him to have to decide! I didn’t want him to look at me here or after a treatment and decide to stay with me just because he felt sorry for me. I didn’t want a pitying relationship or a fake one. You don’t know him, Cary! When we first reconnected, he was like this shell of a person. He wasn’t himself. He was someone… someone empty and sad and just, it just broke me to see him like that. And I knew that if I forced him to be in a relationship with me, whether intentionally or not, he would be that person again. And I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand the idea of turning him into that! I just could not be the cause of that version of him.”

  “That was his choice to become that person before, Tate. And it was his choice to come out of it. It sounds like he maybe went through something before?”

  I nodded. “He, uh, his parents died when he was still in high school. They got caught in a fire. And then his serious girlfriend cheated on him last year.”

  She gasped at the trauma Bridger went through. Hot tears stung at my own eyes. Silently, in my head, I added, and then I lied to him and kept my serious illness from him.

  I hated what happened to his parents. I hated what Jesse did to him.

  And I hated what I did to him.

  How could I have been so short-sighted? How could I have been so horrible?

  Part of me still stuck by my original decision to keep all this from him. But part of me had peeled away all that stubbornness and could see how unfair I had been. How selfish.

  When he had been nothing but amazing to me.

  “Tate,” she bemoaned.

  “I know. I’m the worst.”

  “Give me your reasons again,” she prompted.

  At first, I thought she just wanted to rub them in my face for being such a moron. But I saw real compassion in her expression. And I knew she was ignoring other patients to hang out with me. She cared about me, which made this a little bit easier to share.

  “I didn’t want him to stay with me just because I was sick. And he had been through so much, I didn’t want him to, I don’t know, feel like he always got the short straw. Basically, I didn’t want to be the short straw. You know? And he was so against the whole idea of us in the beginning. I honestly didn’t know if we would become anything. And then we did. We became a big something. But I was so deep in this lie, I didn’t know how to dig myself back out. I didn’t know how to bring up the truth, even when it was so obvious there was something wrong with me.”

  She listened patiently with a comforting hand on my knee. “Those are great reasons to keep the truth from him. I mean it. You justified it to yourself enough ways, that you almost sound like you were doing him a favor.”

  Her words added to the guilt and I could only nod. She seemed to know what she was doing and gave my knee another squeeze.

  “Now give me a reason to tell him the truth.”

  Her words hit me like a punch in the chest. The wind knocked out of me and I felt the burn of guilt and remorse start anew in my stomach and bubble up my throat to my mouth.

  “I love him,” I whispered as tears stung my eyes and slipped down my cheeks.

  She brushed them away and gave me a triumphant look. “You love him. And he loves you, right?” I nodded. “He doesn’t feel trapped anymore, Tate. He feels at home. Here” She used her pointer finger to tap her chest. “And believe me when I say, you are not the short straw. You are life and exuberance. You take this world and everything it gives you and ride it by the horns all the way through the gate. It is impossible to feel the short straw with you. Everybody knows that. He, especially, knows that. He still deserves the truth from you. Even if he thinks he knows it, he doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know it from you. Will he listen to you, if you want to talk?”

  “Yes,” I told her with a shaky voice. “He told me he’d be waiting for me whenever I called.”

  “Then you better call him, girl. He’s too good of a man to push away because you�
�re stubborn.”

  “I’m not stubborn,” I grumbled stubbornly.

  She smiled at me again. “You, child, are the most stubborn of them all. And thank God for that. Otherwise, this evil disease would have taken you a long, long time ago.” She stood up and placed a kiss on my forehead.

  The tears streaked down my cheeks in faster streams. How had I gotten lucky with all these people in my life? I might not have had a bunch of friends, but the people that I called friend were worthy and wonderful.

  And knew exactly what to say to get my ass in gear.

  “I got other patients to check on, Tate. But I’ll be back later.”

  She moved to the door and I couldn’t help but call after her. “Are you going to make them all cry?”

  She shot me a look over her shoulder. “What kind of professional would I be if I don’t get all my charges into hysterics before my shift ends in forty-five minutes?”

  I laughed through my tears. “You really are an evil woman.”

  She winked at me. “You love me anyway.”

  After she had left the room and me to my thoughts, I lay there for a long time digesting our conversation. Bridger did deserve to hear my side of the story. He deserved all of the truth from me, about this and about anything else.

  I’d been horrible to him. And being sick was not an excuse. In fact, I didn’t have any excuses to stand on. I’d messed up and I was just thankful he still wanted to put up with me.

  Or I hoped he did anyway.

  I should probably talk to him before I assumed that.

  I didn’t call him right away though. I wanted to think everything through and come to terms with my side of it.

  I knew Bridger had trust issues. And who could blame him? But I started to see that maybe I had trouble trusting him too.

  I had to trust that he would pick me because of me and not because of the sickness. I had to trust that if we were bad for each other that he would see that and walk away before we got any more serious. Or that if we got into rough patches, he would stay and see it out. Especially after marriage.