by Sara Arden
Sophie still had a strange, vain hope that he’d hear what she had to say and it wouldn’t matter to him.
That Allison had been right.
“Your secret?” Hayden wasn’t even at all wary of her. She only saw concern.
Sophie wished he’d guard himself, wished he’d pull back from her now that way she wouldn’t have to remember what it was like when he pushed her away.
“That night that has come to define both of our lives, it didn’t happen the way you remember it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I was already burned when you got there.”
His walls went up. She saw it on his face and she was glad.
“The fire that asked you and your family to put your lives on the line started because of me.”
Saying it out loud for the second time didn’t trigger the tears, this time it was kind of a release. It was like exhaling the breath she’d been holding for nine years.
“What happened?” he asked, his mouth a hard line.
She didn’t want to spill the rest of her sins, but there was no way past it but through it. She could do this. She owed him this.
And if Sophie had been dealing with a client, she’d say they owed themselves this, too.
“My father wasn’t a gentle man. He hit me and my mother and that night they were fighting. I had these candles. Three of them that I’d gotten at a thrift shop. I only lit them to make wishes.” She shook her head. “My dad hated them. Said they were stupid and I was going to burn the house down.” Sophie choked on her words then and Hayden put his arm around her.
“It’s okay. Tell me.”
“You’re not supposed to be the one comforting me. I’m telling you this to comfort you. To release you from the bonds you’ve put on yourself. Don’t be so damn nice.”
“Do you want me to be angry?”
She considered. “Maybe I do. Because I deserve it. Because if you’re mad at me, the fact that I didn’t tell you won’t hurt.”
He pulled away from her. “Okay. Tell me the rest. Get it all out.”
“I had the candles burning when he came into my room. I could tell he was on a tear by the look on his face. That vein in his forehead that was pulsing. The way my mother, both her eyes black and nose bloody, stood in the doorway. She didn’t try to stop him. But I wasn’t going to let him hit me again. I wasn’t going to let myself be her. So I threw the biggest of the candles at him.”
“That’s how the fire started? Why didn’t you try to get out?”
“I was afraid. The room went up so fast. I thought it was my punishment for what I’d done. I went into psychology to figure out what was wrong with myself.”
“The fact remains, if I’d moved faster, you wouldn’t have burned as badly.”
“If you’d moved faster, we might both be dead. I didn’t realize until you’d picked me up and were carrying me out, that you were safe. I’d have fought you. You’ve been spending your life trying to outrun an imagined guilt. The only reason I’m here today is because of you. And damn me for ever letting you think otherwise.”
He was silent for a long time. He didn’t move.
She had the urge to fill up all the empty space with her excuses, with her pleas, and with her confessions of love, but none of them would help him now.
He’d needed her honesty and she’d give than to him. It was all she could do. The rest would be for her.
Finally, he said, “I understand why you didn’t say anything. You were a kid, Sophie. Christ, I think about what I deal with every day and I don’t know how I’d tell someone that kind of truth as an adult. I can’t imagine it as a kid.”
The thing that was frozen in her, that had curled up into a tiny ball to protect itself, slowly began to unfurl.
“You were my hero,” she said. “I couldn’t tell you something, that in my mind, made me feel like I didn’t deserve to be saved. You were larger than life. Then when you came to see me when I was in recovery, I wanted to tell you. When I was old enough to understand how that had affected you, I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“So why now?”
“Because we both deserve a life without shadows. Without guilt. We started something that I didn’t think could be real and until the truth was between us, it couldn’t be. I knew that, and I was willing to take what I could get for as long as I could get it, but oh, that’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. You deserve better than that. I deserve better than that.” She swallowed and took another deep breath. “You deserve to know who you are without that filter of what you thought you should’ve done. You deserve to know the value of what it is that you put on the line.”
He went ashen and that was when she knew it was over for her. He’d been ready to soothe her, to be her hero again, until he realized what she said was true.
“You’re right, Sophie. As you were telling me, I didn’t think it would change anything. But it did.”
Even though she’d known her confession would change everything, she’d still hoped against hope…
“I don’t blame you. Not at all. Not for what happened and not even for not telling me.”
Those were small consolations considering she knew the words that were coming next.
“But I don’t who I am without the lie. I used it to define myself for so long. Not just myself, but my actions. The way I see the world. When I came to you, I knew exactly who I was, but now, it’s like, I’m this Hayden shaped thing, but I don’t know anything else.”
She nodded and choked down her emotions. “I know.”
“I also understand why I wanted to tell you that I loved you, but I couldn’t.”
Sophie put her hand over her mouth as if that could hold back the tidal wave of her grief, and for a moment, it did.
“Me too, but now that’s it’s all out, I can say it. I do love you. I loved us both enough to be honest. When you think of me, remember that I loved you.” She stood on shaking legs and went to the door without speaking, holding it open.
She didn’t want to tell him to go. She didn’t actually want him go, but her heart hurt. She couldn’t hold back the tide anymore and he didn’t need to see her tears. He didn’t need something else to feel guilty for.
He stood slowly, almost as if he were in a daze and she knew as she watched him walk out of the door that it was the last time.
Sophie was torn between wanting to memorize every second of the moment, to re-brand his face into her brain. The way his shoulders looked in the doorway, his profile in the afternoon sun. Torn between that and not wanting to watch as the fairytale crumbled to dust.
She decided she’d done enough hiding.
So she watched him go.
When she closed the door and the lock clicked into place with a heavy finality, it would’ve been easy to say she wasn’t going to ever let herself feel these things again. She would never allow herself to be vulnerable.
Except that was what had been the most beautiful. The most rewarding.
Sophie wasn’t going to stop living now that she’d tasted it. While it was true that this pain was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, so were the good things. She wasn’t ready to give those up or start thinking she’d never have them again.
Enough life had passed her by and she’d take the time she needed to grieve this, but it wasn’t the end.
If nothing else, Hayden had helped give her a sense of self. He’d helped her forgive herself and see her own self worth.
Maybe that’s what this had been about.
Her mother used to say that for every person there was a reason and they might only be around for a season.
She’d gotten a grand season. A quick and brutal, but no less glorious spring. Much like the Kansas spring. Hearty things had to dig deep, really know where their roots were and hold fast to them. Or they’d blow away like so much chaffe.
Sophie hadn’t thought that she had roots, but she did and they were strong.
&nb
sp; So were his. His family were not only his roots, but his anchor.
They might be hers, too. She remembered what Allison had said to her.
I won’t stop loving you because you and my son have a disagreement. Or even if you decide you can’t be together.
Then, there was the tiny burning ember of hope that refused to be snuffed. If my son is the man I think he is, he’ll need some time to adjust his thinking, but in the end, he knows what’s good for him.
Was Sophie good for him? She didn’t know, but she wanted to be.
Maybe the fairytale hadn’t crumbled. Maybe this was just the part where everything only seemed hopeless, and if she persevered, she could still have the castle.
Or an old yellow couch with pink cabbage roses where a prince among men would hold her for the rest of her life.
15
Hayden found himself in a fugue. He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t keep his head in the game and he knew that made him a danger.
So he filled out the leave slip and turned it in to Lt. McCade who eyed him over the paper. “I’d be inclined to approve it, if it didn’t say STFN in the corner. What’s this about?” STFN was admin code for “sick until further notice.”
“My head’s just not in the right place. I’ve got a month of leave, at least.”
“Longer than two weeks I’ve got to kick up to the Chief, son.” McCade handed the paper back to him.
“Yeah, I know. But I remember you kicking my ass over chain of command,” Hayden said.
McCade grinned. “I see the lesson took.” He signed the paper and handed it back to him. “You know where he’s at.”
Hayden took the paper up to his father’s office.
Bill was seated behind his desk working on something intently. He looked up when Hayden stepped into the doorway.
“What are you working on?”
“A surprise for your mom. Do you think she’d like Mexico or the Bahamas better?”
“Which one is cheaper?”
Bill narrowed his eyes.
“No, you know how mom is. That’ll make her as happy as the trip.”
“You know, you’re right.” Bill nodded. “But I want to go to the Bahamas. Compromise.” He nodded again. “So what’s up? Is that a leave slip I see?”
Hayden shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I need to take some time. I’m dangerous with my head the way it is now.”
“If this is about Royce—”
“No, Dad. It’s about me. Sophie told me some hard truths and I need to work it out for myself.”
“Did she ask you to quit the job?”
“No. She told me that she started the fire that killed her family. It was an accident, but whether or not I hesitated, she’d have had the burns anyway.”
Bill exhaled heavily. “I’m glad she told you. I’d just made Chief then and you know in a small town I get double duty.”
“You investigated,” Hayden said. “You knew all this time?”
“I said it was faulty wiring in the report. I wanted her to get the insurance money. I knew she’d need it. And I knew Benedict was a piece of shit drunk who beat his wife and his kid. It was the only way I knew to help her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t mine to tell, and if I had, who’s to say it would’ve changed your thinking. It killed me to see you suffer like that, but hearing it from me would never have eased your guilt.”
“How do you reconcile that? You always taught us that lying for any reason was wrong.”
“It is, but you know what? I don’t have any regrets.” Bill shrugged. “This is the part where you remember that your parents are humans, too. With wants, needs, and mistakes.”
“That wasn’t a mistake, Dad. It was a choice.”
“That it was.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a key. “Why don’t you take some time up at the cabin? It’s removed enough that you’ll get some peace to think, maybe get some fishing in. And if you don’t catch anything, you can still get delivery from the little pizzeria next to the bait shop.”
He accepted the key. “Thanks.”
“When you come out on the other side of this, I hope you’re still a fireman.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s part of who you are. It was your dream.”
“Dreams change, Dad.”
“As does everything. By the way, it’d be great if you could at least come to the benefit next weekend. It’s at Ben’s Place.”
“The First Responders Widows and Orphans fund?” He’d forgotten about that.
“Livie doesn’t know it yet, but Royce put her name forward to the committee for this year’s recipient. It’s past time, really. And two weeks is the calendar shoot Erin is putting together for Ember Harbor.”
“How does Mom feel about you doing the sexy fireman calendar?” Hayden laughed.
“Me?” He snorted. “This isn’t a new idea. Your mom had her own calendar in ’83. That thing sold on a national level for years.”
“Good for her.” He nodded. “But you know, I’m totally fine if I never, ever see that.” Hayden coughed. “Ever.”
“It sold well on a national level, but locally? I might’ve told all the guys if they bought a copy, I’d end them slow and ugly.” His dad grinned. “McCade bought one just to spite me, though.”
“And that’s all of that I needed to hear.” Hayden laughed. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime, kiddo.”
He breathed a physical sigh of relief.
Hayden didn’t know why he’d thought his father was going to give him grief. The man had always been his staunchest supporter. He encouraged him to make his own choices.
So why had he thought this would be any different?
What he’d said about Sophie’s dad twisted him up. How had everyone in town known about her dad, but no one had done anything?
That was the dark side of small town living, he supposed. Everyone knew your business, but in situations like that, people couldn’t or wouldn’t help because they didn’t know how. They still had to deal with John Benedict on a daily basis. That could make life uncomfortable.
While he understood that, and being a first responder, he’d been trained to expect certain reactions in certain situations, but he couldn’t imagine knowing a grown man was laying hands on a child and doing nothing.
His father hadn’t done nothing.
Bill had done what best helped Sophie at the time.
It was a wrong thing that had made a right. Completely at odds with everything he’d taught his sons, but at the same time, it wasn’t.
Kind of like what being a fireman was to Hayden.
“How do you and Mom make all of this work?” Hayden shook his head. “I can’t imagine if I ever had a son that I would want this life for him. I mean, when I applied, I didn’t stop and think that you’d be anything but proud.”
“Son, following your dreams is what makes us proud. Of course we worry about you and Royce. I’m the Fire Chief and I still go on calls. Why do you think that is?”
“Because you love it and feel worthless behind a desk.”
Bill raised a brow. “Besides that? You and Royce. That’s how I deal with my fears. It’s not that I don’t trust our team. We have a great group of guys. Even the probie. I wouldn’t keep them around if I didn’t trust them with my life and yours. But see, that’s the thing I can control. I control who walks into hell with you, son. And it’ll always be me.”
Hayden’s chest tightened at his father’s words and he realized now more than ever what a great father he had.
And how decidedly selfish he’d been. He’d only thought about himself these last nine years and his father had to watch him do this to himself. This man who would, by his own admission, walk through hell—and he’d proven it numerous times.
“I’m sorry,” Hayden said.
“For what, boy?”
“Everything. For not thinking about how the things I’ve done w
ould affect you. For not realizing what I have with my family. For not listening.”
“There are some things where you just have to find your own way.”
“What does Mom do? I mean, to cope with the people she loves doing this job?”
Bill made a face. “I don’t even know. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how I’d handle it if your mom was still on the job. You’re so much like her, Hayden. You feel everything deeply, like she does. You care, like she does, so much about everyone else.”
People had always said he and Royce were so much like Bill, little carbon copies of their father. In the way they looked, the way they behaved, right down to the job they did.
“Royce said I’m like Mom because I liked playing house when I was a kid.”
Bill snorted. “Being a person who can survive on their own and function as an adult must, cleaning yourself, your home, your clothes, and feeding yourself is not gender specific.”
“So maybe if you get some time this week, you could come to the cabin. We could do a little fishing together.”
“Sounds great. It’s been a while since we’ve done that.”
“I remember when we were kids we’d go a lot. Every other weekend in the summer. Why’d we stop?”
“You boys got so busy with your own lives. Football practice before school even started in the fall. Hanging out with your friends. Girls.” Bill shrugged. “But that’s how it’s supposed to be.” He turned his attention back to the computer. “So, Tahiti, right?”
“I thought it was the Bahamas?”
“Right! Oh, look. Three free nights at Disney World with this package.” He nodded. “Too bad we don’t have any grandchildren to take with us.”
“Um, excuse me. You never took Royce and I to the Bahamas.”
“Nope. So go to the cabin, get your head straight, marry Sophie Benedict and get started. Your mother and I have decided we’d like a granddaughter first.”
“If we’re negotiating, if you’re taking my kids anywhere cool, I get to go.”
Bill seemed to consider. “I guess that’s fair. Get out of here, son. Go catch some fish.”
It occurred to him that fatherhood didn’t frighten him because he knew he had one of the best examples to learn from.
