Resilient Love (Navy Love Series Book 3)

by jc santo

  I pray that Reed or someone in our group of friends reaches out to her before she loses herself in what I’m sure is a black hole of fucked up emotions.

  Sitting out here in this big ocean gives a man nothing but unlimited amounts of time to think. Three months at sea and Joanna Fuentes is the only constant thing on my mind. I miss her more than anything. And pray every night that once I get home, she’ll give me the chance to make things right between us.

  I feel like I’ve gone through different stages of emotions in dealing with the miscarriage.

  That month Jo and I weren’t speaking before I left to come on this deployment, I was angry. Pissed off at her for not including me, not telling me, and for having no intentions of telling me. I was angry at God for taking our baby away. Irate at any and every one. I withdrew and pulled away from my friends.

  It took Marshall handing me my ass to straighten up. And while his ass chewing did curb my lashing out towards friends and people at work, I still wasn’t my normal self.

  I fought with how to be happy when I had so much rage inside me.

  I thought the deployment and space would help. That was one of the reasons I volunteered to go.

  While the anger boiled on the surface, deep inside I was concerned for her; I was just too selfish to show it.

  The first month out at sea, my anger simmered down and I grieved. I mourned the loss of a child I didn’t know; one I’d never get to meet. My sorrow was for not only the child but also for Jo.

  It was in that month that I realized just how selfish I acted.

  I do still feel that I had a right to be angry, but that shouldn’t have outweighed my concern for Jo. And I was concerned. But in the heat of the moment, I reacted to my anger before considering just how difficult the situation was for her.

  The fourth month, where I’m currently at, I’m beginning to accept what happened.

  I’m from a small town in southern Georgia located smack dab in the middle of the bible belt. My parents, along with the rest of the town folk, take religion very seriously.

  It took a discreet email to my dad, one where the reasoning behind my crazy emotions was left unsaid. His reply was simple.

  Look to the scripture when you’re struggling son. Know that God is there to guide you through any challenging times.

  After taking his advice and reading through some of my favorite scriptures, I felt, for the first time in months, a sense of peace wash over me.

  My focus now is to get through this deployment and get home. I’ve got unfinished business to attend to regarding a sexy, tanned leg, brunette beauty.

  Jo

  One Month Later

  Reed and Miller storm into my apartment, using the spare key I kept at Tessa’s house.

  Everyone has known something was wrong with me since before J.C. left. However, no one knows what caused my sudden withdrawal from my friends and the disappearance of my outgoing and fun personality.

  When the two came in, they found me curled up on my couch with copious amounts of trash piled up around my normally clean apartment. They had decided it was time to make me talk, if not to them, to someone.

  Reed paced around the messy living room, continuously running a hand through his hair.

  “What’s going on with you, Jo? You can’t keep doing this to us. We’re all worried about you.” I can hear the pain laced in his voice. He glances around the room, taking in the disaster of my living space. Normally I would be ashamed but I’m too numb to care about my cleanliness.

  It was never my intent to worry any of my friends, but I was too scared to tell them what I’ve been going through.

  “Reed, why don’t you give us a few minutes to talk?” Miller says.

  He gives a short nod then walks out on the patio.

  We sit in silence for a few moments, both of us already aware of the magnitude this conversation will carry.

  Miller is a close friend, she was the one who stayed and took care of me after the D&C procedure. She also happens to be another sailor at our command. She’s the only one who knows the reasoning behind my depression, and I know I’ve been lucky so far that she hasn’t gone through the Chain of Command over it.

  “You know what I’m gonna say, don’t you?”

  I nod my head but keep my eyes cast down; my shame clearly written across my face.

  I’ve never been this girl; I don’t fall victim to any situation, always able to brush off the dirt from a fall and move on. Not this time though.

  Internally, I know the miscarriage wasn’t my fault, but I can’t seem to get my heart to comprehend that. I’m still mentally blaming myself, like somehow I caused it.

  “You need to talk to someone. Locking yourself away like this, hiding from everyone and silently berating yourself, isn’t doing any good. I’ve been where you are a couple of times, Jo. I know how bad your heart is hurting; I understand the pain you’re going through. And I’m telling you, from personal experience, you need to talk to someone.”

  It’s no big secret that Miller has been through a couple of miscarriages herself, that was one of the reasons I asked her to go with me to the hospital that day. She knew the procedures first hand and was able to reassure me throughout the day anytime I became worried.

  “I don’t know who to talk to Miller.” Without any warning, the dam breaks and tears flow freely down my face.

  I’m holding on by a thread, I have been for the past couple months.

  She pulls me into a hug and holds me, allowing me to have this breakdown. You’d think as many of these small meltdowns I’ve had recently, I’d be over them by now, but they just keep coming.

  “Listen,” she pulls back to look at me, “you know I’m here if you ever need to talk, but I think you should go see the Chaplain.”

  I begin shaking my head left to right, ready to argue when she stops me.

  “You can go talk to the Chaplain or I can go to the Command with this.” She arches an eyebrow at me. “Which do you prefer?”

  “I’ll go to the Chaplain,” I sigh.

  “Good.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder. “If you want or need someone to go with you, you know I’m there. I also think you should at least consider telling everyone what’s caused all of this.”

  My head immediately begins shaking back and forth again.

  “No, I was humiliated enough when J.C. found out.”

  Images of that night flash quickly through my mind. It was supposed to be a happy night; we’d celebrated Thanksgiving and my best friend was in the hospital ready to have her twins.

  I didn’t go to the hospital. Instead I was at my apartment, fighting with J.C. and then crying into my pillow after he broke my heart when he stormed out.

  “Jo, they won’t take it the same way as he did. I’m sure now that he’s had time to calm down and it’s all sunk in, he probably regrets his behavior that night.”

  Again, I shake my head no.

  “I doubt that, Amber. It was a fling, casual, fun. There were no serious feelings between us, he wouldn’t have been happy if I’d told him I was pregnant and didn’t miscarry.”

  It’s her turn to shake her head now.

  “Think what you want, but you aren’t giving J.C. enough credit. He’s a good guy and you’re selling him short.”

  Reed walks back inside at that moment.

  “Selling who short?” he asks.

  We both look at each other before Miller covers for me.

  “Nothing, Reed, just girl talk.” She stands and pulls me up with her. “Jo is alright; we can go back and tell everyone she’s alive so let’s head out.”

  Reed looks between the two of us, confused.

  “Wait. We’re leaving? Just like that?” Miller simply shrugs when he questions their exit. He pointedly looks back at me. “You owe every one of your friends some kind of explanation, Jo. We’re worried about you and you’ve shut us all out. At least talk to someone.
Even J.C. is concerned and he’s got way more important things to tend to than your tumultuous relationship.”

  I gasp, shocked by his brutal honesty. And pissed that he thinks he can act like that towards me.

  “You know what, Reed? You’re a dick. I don’t owe anyone an explanation, not until I’m ready to give one. I’ve got a lot going on in my life right now, so why don’t you and everyone else just back off a little? I damn sure don’t need you making me feel like shit right now.”

  Without a word, he walks over to me and places a kiss to my temple. When he pulls back, there’s a mischievous smirk on his face.

  “There’s the Jo we all know and love.” He wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me against him in an unexpected hug. “You’ve still got your spark, Jo, let it ignite again. We all miss you.”

  His words bring a fresh round of unshed tears to my eyes.

  “Thanks, Reed.”

  “Anytime. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay. I mean, I will be.”

  He gives me a nod and I glance back at Miller who’s been silently watching our interaction.

  “Monday?” I ask. She’ll understand what I’m questioning without me actually saying the words.

  “Monday.” She nods. “I’ll get it set up.”

  “Okay.”

  I hug them both and see them out, then make my way to a hot shower. It’s time to wash off this grime and clean my house up.

  Who knew Reed would be the one to snap me out of my depression? All it took was for him to piss me off for the old Jo to reappear.

  It felt good to have some of my signature sass back, even if it was only momentarily. And he was right; I felt the spark, I know the old me is still there.

  J.C.

  I was slightly surprised to hear my name called out during mail call today. It’s a nice little gesture the group has done for each other since we all became friends; every time someone is deployed, we all band together and send them random care packages.

  It’s very typical for other sailors to peek over shoulders trying to see what you got. And it’s a cruel joke for the senders, especially if they’re active duty military, to try to send some kind of embarrassing shit.

  Knowing Reed and Marshall probably included something in the large box, I decide my safest option is to open it in the privacy of my rack.

  Marshall has been known to send gay pornos in these packages before. That’s the last thing I need other guys to see.

  I rip open the box, excited and nervous at the same time for what lies within. There is no note, there never is, but it’s easy to tell who put what in each package.

  Shaving cream, razors and essentials like that are from Tess. She’s always made sure to send us bathroom necessities that are hard to come by on a ship.

  A new external hard drive that I know contains another show for me to become addicted to is from Reed.

  All of my important mail is courtesy of Hunter as well as the two packages of double stuffed Oreos. The guy knows I have a weakness for those cookies.

  I riffle through the box more, growing anxious that I haven’t found anything embarrassing from Marsh yet, when I feel something soft, almost skin like. I run my hand along it trying to gage what it is before I finally reach the end and pull it out.

  My eyes widen when I finally realize what it is. A long, pink tube like shape with a slit on one end. It’s soft and pliable to the touch.

  It’s a fucking fleshlight.

  That sick fucker.

  Without a doubt, I know that Marshall is behind the horrid device. I don’t know which is worse, my fear of getting gay porn or actually getting a fleshlight. Either are incredibly odd and slightly creepy to get from a gay man.

  I know I’m on a boat in the middle of the ocean, but I will, and have, gladly used my hand for those types of necessities.

  I continue rummaging through the box seeing some other random snacks when I stumble upon a package of Moon pies and a six pack of RC cola.

  Only one person knows my obsession with those two products. Jo Fuentes.

  She’s also the only person who would go through the process of ordering them online and getting them shipped to Norfolk.

  I don’t want to read too much into this, but I can’t stop myself from thinking this is an olive branch in a sense. I don’t know whether she is extending it as a means of us going back to friends, pre-casual sex, or if she’s extending it as a way of saying she’s forgiven me for the huge mistake I made regarding the pregnancy.

  Just as quickly as the thought enters my mind, I brush it away. There’s absolutely no way she’d forgive me over my reaction to her lost pregnancy with a pack of my favorite soda and snack.

  I feel as though this is a shining light; she still cares on some level.

  I fucked up leaving with things unresolved between us. And every day out here adds more anger and hurt on her mind.

  If I’ve learned anything on this deployment, it’s that as soon as I get back stateside, I’m fixing this shit between us.

  I put all of the items into my storage locker and bury the fleshlight as deep as possible, praying to God they don’t decide to do a random rack inspection. The last thing I need is for my Commanding Officer to see that thing. I mentally remind myself to kick Marshall’s ass as soon as I get home.

  With renewed hope, I decide it’s time to quit pussy-footing around and just ask Reed how Jo is. I’ve been silent for far too long; it’s time that I openly admit to someone how I feel about her.

  Reed is my closest friend since joining the Navy. He and I met in Pensacola, Florida where we went for our aviation schooling immediately following boot camp.

  We’re completely opposites in most cases, but we quickly bonded when it came to drinking and our views on relationships. We both liked to get drunk and neither of us wanted anything more than an occasional fuck or fling.

  Our friends always said we loved the ‘bed-warmers’.

  While he came out and admitted that he cared for Tegan, faced the scrutiny and worked through all of his issues to make it work with her, I haven’t done the same.

  Reed, nor anyone else for that matter, actually knows how I feel about Jo. I’m sure they all have figured out that we’ve slept together a few times since last summer, but neither of us have admitted to it out loud. We’ve allowed the rumors to circulate and pleaded the fifth or denied them when they were brought to our attention.

  We didn’t want our friends to act differently around us simply because we were having sex. And I think on some level, Jo didn’t want anyone to know so that if/when it came to an end, we didn’t have to face the questions or even the possibility of anyone ‘choosing sides’.

  It’s high time that changed now though.

  In the beginning, I agreed to casual, no feelings sex, but somewhere along the way that changed. And I’m willing to bet it did for her too.

  I walk into the library and see an empty computer. Typically, they’re all being used when I come in here. We’re able to access email at our work stations, but there are a ton of distractions there and privacy isn’t possible. The library is quiet and a lot more ideal area for reading and writing personal emails.

  Luckily, we’re not currently at River City, so communication is feasible.

  As fast as I can, I chicken peck my way through an email to Reed. I ask how everyone is, thank them for the package and tell him to warn Marshall of the ass beating he’ll get when I come back. Once my mind is at ease that I’ve focused enough time on my group of friends, I ask the important questions.

  How is Jo? Has she said anything to anyone about me? Please let me know what’s going on with her.

  Before I have time to rethink it, I click the ‘send’ button on the bottom of the screen.

  I make my way to the hangar bay where the smoke pit is located for a much needed cigarette while I contemplate the email.

  Workin
g the night check gives me plenty of time to ponder on how the hell to fix the mess I left things in. It also gives me plenty of time to sit and worry myself until I hear back from Reed.

  Jo

  I’m going home for another visit with my mom next week, and I think talking with her will help even more.

  My mom is great; the greatest mother ever, but I’m a little biased. She’s always been more a friend and confidante to me since I reached adulthood. I can’t think of a single topic that I shied away from telling her.

  I grew up in a small town right outside of Los Angeles, in a predominantly Latino community with my parents and two older brothers.

  My dad passed away when I was thirteen from a heart condition. So my brothers Miguel and Joseph took over the protective father figure role for me.

  I’ve lost count of the number of times they’ve threatened bodily harm to boyfriends. There’s not a doubt in my mind that they would go ballistic if they heard details of the last time J.C. and I spoke.

  Mom has stage four melanoma, a very aggressive form of skin cancer. She tried to not tell any of us what was going on and kept it a secret for as long as she could. However, we all became suspicious of her constant doctor appointments and the copious amounts of medications she began taking.

  Since Dad’s passing, she’s always been everything to my brothers and me. She was the provider and the nurturer, the friend and confidante, the soccer coach and the team mom; I think she was afraid to let us down, which is why she tried to not tell us. However, my brothers immediately dove in to help in any way they were needed.

  Miguel lives a few blocks away with his wife and two young sons. Joseph was living in an apartment across town but decided to move back home to keep Mom from being alone.

  Although my mom and brothers have tried telling me not to worry about not being around, I can’t help but feel like a terrible daughter. I knew she was sick and yet, I allowed myself to be fooled by her fake upbeat voice when we spoke on the phone.