Resilient Love (Navy Love Series Book 3)

by jc santo

  “J.C.—”

  “No, don’t say anything.” I lean up on my knees, and run my hands along her legs, boxing my body in between them. I run my nose from her collarbone up her neck, inhaling her decadent scent. Her body flows with the motions, tilting her neck so I’m able to make my way up to her ear. “I’ve missed you, Jo,” I whisper. “So fucking much, Darlin’.”

  She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t need to. I know, I fucking know she feels this too.

  “We can’t do this, J.C., there’s still so much left unresolved between us.” Even as she says it, her hands are running along my shoulders and through my hair.

  My lips trail along the same path that my nose just took. Jesus, I’ve missed the taste of her skin. With a long groan, I pull away.

  Standing, I adjust the raging hard-on I’ve acquired.

  Jo pushes herself out of the chair and runs fingers through her hair, trying to straighten herself up after that intense moment. I know I shouldn’t push, but feeling her body next to mine again and knowing that she wants us just as much as I do, I can’t help myself.

  “Tell me you don’t want this; you don’t want us. Just say the words and I’ll walk away.”

  I’m exasperated; I want her, she wants me. This should be simple, but she’s making it way more complicated than that. At the very fucking least, I deserve to hear her say the words; tell me that she wants us on some level.

  She’s standing across from me, watching and waiting for me to say something. Her breath is coming in quick recession. She’s worked up over everything happening.

  When our eyes finally lock, hers filled with longing and despair, mine with understanding and compassion, I cross the small space and pull her to my chest.

  “I can’t, J.C. I can’t tell you that. I need you but you scare me. Everything is different with you.” She loses the battle she’s been fighting and the tears start falling down her cheeks.

  I don’t say anything, just wraps my arms around her tighter and allow her this breakdown that she needs.

  Once the tears have started to subside, I pull back to see her face.

  “Jo, I’m in love with you. The last thing I want is for you to be scared of me in any sense of the word.”

  Her eyes go wide at my confession. It may not have been the perfect timing to admit my love, but oh well. I place a light kiss to her collarbone before continuing.

  “I want more than anything to take care of ya, Darlin’. You’ve struggled with all of this for so long on your own. It’s time you let me take the reins for a while.”

  “I do want this, J.C. I just don’t want my heart broken again. I know I can’t survive another blow.”

  Jo

  Although I’m embarrassed to admit it, it’s the truth and J.C. needs to know it before this goes any further. My heart literally cannot take any more heartbreak.

  “You don’t have to worry about that. I want to take care of you, not hurt you. I did enough damage the first time I screwed up, Jo.”

  The words haven’t been said yet, but I know where this conversation is going now; straight towards the miscarriage. The absolute last topic I want to discuss.

  “J.C., please—”

  “No. I deserved to know back then and you chose to keep it from me so the least you can do is tell me why. I don’t blame you anymore. The entire time I was deployed I worried about you and how you were handling everything. I felt like a complete jackass for leaving without talking to you.”

  “I deserved the silent treatment from you; I deserved it from everyone. I was a shitty friend; I should have told you.”

  J.C. and I have had a good time so far today, almost like the old days; no drama, no animosity. I knew it wouldn’t last though; we need to talk about the miscarriage, I know that, but I still carry so much guilt that it’s a difficult topic to discuss with anyone. It’s still difficult to even speak with the Chaplain about it.

  I’m fully expecting animosity and J.C.’s anger to be directed at me now, but I’m pleasantly surprised when I see compassion and what looks like understanding in his eyes.

  “You’re wrong, Jo. You deserved support, not abandonment.” He pauses and looks over me. “You can’t keep running from it and me. We need to discuss it.”

  I nod my head, unsure of what else to say. He’s right; I can’t run away anymore.

  “Okay,” I timidly say.

  The shock on his face tells me that he was expecting me to avoid this conversation again, but he’s right. The sooner we talk about everything, the sooner we can put it behind us and move on, either as friends or, judging by that moment we just had, possibly something more.

  He nods and leads us over to sit on the edge of the bed. Tension clouds the air that was moments ago filled with laughter and joking.

  My mind immediately goes to the day of my procedure.

  Who would have guessed I’d be in this situation?

  It was a shock to me. My nerves are all over the place this morning.

  Thank God I have Miller here with me; I can’t imagine asking J.C. It probably would have just cramped his style.

  Miller’s always been a reliable friend and, having gone through a couple miscarriages herself, she’s been a great shoulder to lean on in this situation. I took a pregnancy test with her by my side.

  It wasn’t quite a week later that I started experiencing cramps and spotting.

  Of course, I grew concerned. When I asked Miller if it was normal, the expression of pure sadness and understanding on her face told me the pains were not something I wanted.

  “How long have you been spotting?” Miller asked.

  “On and off for a couple days now. The cramps are really strong though.”

  “Fuentes, you should probably call your doctor.”

  I knew by her sad demeanor and reluctance to elaborate that something wasn’t right.

  “Hey, you okay?” Miller’s question snaps me out of the past and back into this fucked up reality I’m currently in.

  I give a small nod. Glancing around the sterile hospital room, I try to find some sort of positive aspect out of this whole thing, but nothing comes to mind.

  Following her advice, I called the nurse line when the pain became even worse, damn near unbearable. I didn’t understand why they wanted me to immediately report to the emergency room, but I figured I’d get to hear the baby’s heartbeat a week earlier than I had anticipated.

  Not wanting to go alone, and unsure of my driving abilities, I had Miller pick me up.

  Although I didn’t understand what was going on, I was excited to hear and possibly even see the baby. I silently prayed they found everything to be okay. All of my hopes quickly evaporated into thin air once they hooked me up to that machine—There was no heartbeat.

  I was miscarrying the baby.

  Four days later, after walking around with my dead baby in my uterus, I went to my scheduled checkup to ensure my body had passed the fetus on its own. The doctor quickly decided that a D&C procedure was the best option to remove all the fetal tissue and keep me from getting an infection.

  Fetal tissue? Like it’s a fucking science project.

  Frankly, I couldn’t care less about an infection. My body caused my baby to die. I don’t care if it gets infected now, it betrayed me.

  Having a child wasn’t on my list of priorities, but I was ready to embrace the crazy hand life had given me. Only to find out the hand dealt was a flop.

  A trial run. A mistake. A do-over.

  Before I’m able to get control of my emotions, tears overflow my eyes. I’ve cried so much in the last few days.

  I’ve shut myself off from all of my friends. Thanksgiving is in a few days and while I have no intentions of leaving Norfolk, I told everyone I was heading home to California for the holiday. I’m not sure I can be around my friends.

  All of us went to dinner last week and J.C. kept wrapping his arms around Tegan. It was
all a joke to get under Reed’s skin, but it got under mine as well. I don’t know if I can handle him acting like that again, not in my fragile state now.

  And I don’t know how I’ll feel after this procedure. The doctor says some women are back to normal within a few days while others take up to two weeks to get back in their usual routine.

  “You’re going to be fine, Jo. They’ll put you to sleep and you won’t feel anything. You may be a little sore tomorrow, but you’re tough. I know you’ll get through this,” Miller says, trying to calm my nerves.

  She’s right, I won’t feel a thing today, but when I wake up I know I’ll feel the emptiness.

  There’s no need to give J.C. all of the gory details, but he does deserve to know where my head was. It’s probably best to just spit out where I was coming from all those months ago.

  “I don’t know where to even begin to apologize to you for the entire situation, J.C. I should have told you from the start. If I could go back now I would, I wouldn’t hide it from you and I wouldn’t pull away from you and everyone else back home. I just don’t know how to move on from the guilt that I’m carrying around for the way I handled everything.”

  My eyes stay transfixed on my fingers, trying to keep from looking at him and possibly seeing disappointment or anger in his eyes. After a moment of dead silence, I startle when I feel his hand slide along my cheek and cup my jaw turning my head to face him.

  Our eyes lock, but his aren’t filled with what I was anticipating, all I can see is understanding.

  “Jo, I was really hurt that you didn’t trust me enough to let me be there for you. It would have been nice to have gotten to bask in the happiness of knowing I was going to have a child with you; but I would have wanted to be there for the downfall of losing it, too. I don’t want you to go through tough situations on your own; I want to be there for you.”

  “I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry I didn’t give you the chance. I had every intention of telling you about the baby, but I lost it before I worked up the courage.”

  My tears take over again and I’m wrapped in J.C.’s arms.

  “Look, I feel like you’re takin’ all the blame for this situation when you shouldn’t,” J.C.’s voice rumbles against my ear lying on his chest. “I think you should know why I reacted the way I did. My senior year, my high school girlfriend and I ended up pregnant. While I confessed our mistake to my parents and started making arrangements for bringing a baby into the world, she chose to have an abortion.”

  I gasp, but before I can get an actual word out, J.C. keeps shocking me with more details.

  “She told me after the procedure was done, Jo. I wasn’t given a choice on the fate of our child; wasn’t even given the opportunity to be with her, had I wanted to, for the procedure. She made the decision all on her own and did it. I was just supposed to accept it and move on. When you told me about your miscarriage, I blacked out to an extent. I didn’t hear the word ‘miscarriage’, it was just a flashback of high school, my choice being taken away; me losing another child.”

  Everything finally clicks into place.

  His reaction and outrage that I’d left him in the dark. The hurt and betrayal I saw in his eyes that night in my apartment. His need to get away from me.

  “Once I sat down and rationalized the situation, I realized that it wasn’t the same thing as what happened in high school. You didn’t give up our baby like Maggie did, you lost it.”

  Maggie. Ugh, what a twat name.

  “I’m so sorry J.C., I can’t imagine having that happen but that still doesn’t justify me not telling you about my pregnancy. That Maggie girl sounds like a real piece of work.”

  Before my miscarriage, I never thought about being pregnant or anything like that. I never considered what I would do if I ended up with an accidental pregnancy. Would I give the baby up for adoption or keep it and raise it as a single parent? It’s a situation most don’t really contemplate until they’re in it. With J.C. though, there was no hesitation; I was having the baby and keeping it. I admit, it may have been different had the father not been one of my closest friends who I happen to care deeply for.

  But never, never, would an abortion be a feasible possibility for me. And definitely not in the nature that Maggie did it to J.C.

  With a deep sigh, J.C. wraps an arm around my shoulder and places a kiss to my temple.

  “She definitely was. And yeah, it would have given me peace of mind to know what you were going through and to have been allowed to be there with you, but I can understand that you were scared because we were so up in the air with our relationship. And that was my fault. I should have manned up a lot time ago and confessed my feelings for you not only to you, but to all of our friends. I’ve taken the chicken shit way out for a long time now, hiding you and us and our relationship.”

  I look up at him, surprised with where this conversation is going. And with how well it’s going.

  “Both of us should have spoken up about the relationship. I’ve cared about you for a long time, I hate that we’ve had to go through all of this hell to realize it.” He nods his agreement.

  “You’d think one of our nosy friends would’ve put us in our place and made us admit to it...Tess, Marshall...someone. You know Marsh usually can’t help but to snoop in everyone else’s relationships,” J.C. says on a laugh.

  “Actually,” time for a confession, “He’s the one who convinced me to take a date to T’s wedding. He was all for making you jealous to get you to admit we were more than just sex.”

  I was really hesitant to go through with Marsh’s wildly constructed plan, but in the end I knew I would feel bad to cancel on Hernandez. He was excited about being invited to Tessa’s wedding.

  “Why am I not surprised? Asshole. Well, I think we’ve had enough heavy talk for the night. What do you say we get comfortable and rent some movies on Miguel’s tab?”

  I mischievously smile and without a word, grab my suitcase and head to the en suite bathroom to change.

  Before I know it, I’m comfortably snuggled up on the large king size bed with J.C.’s strong arms securely around me and his slight snoring in the crook of my neck.

  For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel happiness as I fall asleep.

  J.C.

  This place is something else. There’s so much to take in, it’s like sensory overload. The lights, the music, the people, the Elvis impersonators...for a small town country boy, it’s a whole different world.

  Granted, I’ve been in quite a few places thanks to the Navy, but none compare to Las Vegas.

  I don’t know which is more appealing to look at, all the amazing lights on the strip or witnessing one of the first genuine smiles on Jo’s face in what must be months. I haven’t let go of her hand since we exited the elevator of our hotel, and to be dead honest, I don’t plan to for a while.

  Waking up with her in my arms was a dream come true. It’s something that I have prayed to God for just the opportunity to allow it to happen again.

  We both seemed to have a huge weight lifted off of us this morning, our talk must have done some good. A lot of good.

  We spent the morning in our hotel room, talking through things some more and then went out for lunch before returning to relax by the pool. The day has been filled with subtle touches and caresses, light kisses and looks of longing and desire.

  Jo and I always have sexual tension, but since our huge fight all those months ago, it has simmered down a lot...that is until now. It’s like someone flipped the switch back to ‘On’ and there’s only one way to cool the steam between us.

  One way that isn’t an option just yet.

  Jo hasn’t pulled away from me once today and her tense posture is long gone. Even though I’m trying to hold back too much enthusiasm, I feel like this is my old Jo coming back to me.

  After an overall great day together, she insisted on taking me out on the to
wn. When asked what I wanted to do, my only response was ‘something fun.’

  “So, you wanna have some fun?” Jo asks with that famous mischievous smile firmly intact.

  “What kind of fun are you thinkin’?”

  She shrugs her shoulder and pulls me along to wherever her plan intends for us to be. I silently pray that she doesn’t lead us right to that Stratosphere rollercoaster, or hell, anything involving the stratosphere. I don’t want to go in it and I damn sure don’t want to ride the rides on the top of it.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when we arrive on Freemont Street. I’ve heard this street is the second most popular in Vegas. It’s filled with more casinos and other attractions, including the mall we're walking through.

  “You ready?” Jo asks looking up at me.

  “Ready for what?”

  I follow her line of sight, which seems to go over my head, to the ceiling. In that moment, I catch sight of a bunch of cables lined across the length of the long mall corridor we’re standing in. Just as I go to move my eyes back to her to question all of this, realization dawns on me when I see some teenagers go sailing by.

  A zip line.

  This is so much better than I had anticipated where she’d be taking us. A few minutes later, after some convincing from Jo, we agreed to do the higher line, a whopping 114 feet above the pedestrians down below. Jo and I are side by side, strapped in and flying our way down the Freemont Street Experience. It’s unreal and exhilarating; and over before I know it.

  We walk around the mall for a bit, each indulging in food and the occasional drink, taking in this entirely amazing atmosphere, including the LED canopy show above.

  Our demeanor has easily fallen right back to what it used to be since the heavy talk in our room. Although the talk was challenging, especially discussing Maggie again after all this time, I am glad we had it. We needed it.

  As insane as it sounds, Jo seems like she’s dealing with her guilt over the miscarriage a lot better and I believe she’s forgiven me for my behavior and abandonment in her time of need. All I can do is continue to tell her that I will be there for her from now on and continue to prove that to her every day.