Consolation (Consolation Duet #1)

by Corinne Michaels

  She gives a short laugh, “Liar.”

  “I’m not lying.” I grab the baby monitor and head out on the deck. Which is the best thing about this house. When Aaron and I found this place, I fell in love. It backs to the Chesapeake Bay and the deck is where I spend most of my day. I feel close to him here. I can feel him in the wind—which is crazy, but when I close my eyes, it’s like his hands are touching me. His breath glides across my neck, pushing the hair off my face. The sun warms me and I can pretend. I can allow myself the illusion that he’s here. He’s just out on a mission and will be home soon. I hold on to the feeling as long as I can because it’s so much better to pretend than face the fact that my husband is dead.

  “Right. You’re always fine. You’re a damn zombie,” she scolds.

  “I got a job,” I blurt, hoping it’ll throw her off.

  “Doing what?” she asks skeptically.

  “I’m going to work for Cole Security.” I can almost hear the disapproval through the phone. Too bad I don’t care what she thinks.

  “Oh, that sounds like a great idea and a wonderful way to start moving on.”

  “Glad you agree,” I reply, knowing damn well she’s being sarcastic.

  She doesn’t understand. She and my father are still happily married. I lost my happily ever after. I want to be close to him, to feel something, to still have something to share with him. Cole Security Forces is the last place Aaron was alive. It’s the place he spent his days in working for Jackson. He’s in that office. He’s in this house. I can’t move on. I can barely breathe . . . but I do. For Aarabelle. Every day I get my ass out of bed, I get dressed, and I live in what small way I can. And all I want is a tiny piece of what I once had, so I’m going where I can feel him more strongly. It’s starting to fade here. I can no longer see him in the bathroom shaving, or remember what he sounded like when he laughed. I try so hard to hold on to it. I want it, but each day I lose another part of my life with him. The pain remains, but my memory of Aaron is slipping away.

  “Natalie?” she questions as I wait in silence. “I think you should come for a visit. Maybe if you get away for a little, it’ll help you move on.”

  “I am moving on!” I yell and then draw a deep breath.

  “How? Have you met with the insurance people? Have you taken care of any of the paperwork you needed to?” she pesters me.

  I swear she’s picking a fight just to get me to lose my temper. “I am. I’m done talking.” I don’t have an answer for her because the reality is . . . I’m stuck. I’m living in an endless cycle. Nothing changes. Nothing happens. I refuse to clear out his drawers or closets because then he’s really not coming home. Of course, I can’t tell anyone this. I need him. I want him so badly, but he left me that day. He kissed my nose and then my belly and told us he’d be home in a few days. He lied.

  My eyes close and I can see his face. At least I still have that. His deep, brown eyes with tiny flecks of gold flash through my mind. The way his hair was always kept in a buzz cut. Aaron. My world.

  “Natalie . . .” My mother’s soft voice breaks my daydream. “Please, let your father and I come get you and Aarabelle. We’d love to spend some time with you both.”

  “No. I love you, Mom, but I’m doing good.” I see the monitor light up and Aara’s voice breaks through. “The baby is waking, I gotta go. I love you.”

  “When you decide you’re not fine, call me. I love you, baby girl.”

  I press the end key and put the phone away. Sitting here for a few minutes, trying to get a grip before I get my daughter. I love her so much, but she’s a clone of her father. Every time I look at her, it takes every ounce of strength I have not to cry. She gazes at me with those innocent eyes so full of love and it breaks a piece of my heart apart. Why won’t she ever get the chance to hold her father’s hand? Make him a cake. Tell him how much she loves him or to just know the love of a father. She deserves that. She should have both of her parents to guide her, but instead she only has me . . . a broken woman.

  Each time her “uncles” come around, I hate them a little more. I hate that they can see her, hold her, touch her, but the one man who created her never will. The anger boils in my soul like a black cloud. It covers the light I’m desperate to see. Making the hope die out before it has a chance—because he’s dead. He took it away when he left this Earth. I want him back and not only in my dreams. I want to roll over and feel him next to me—instead I get cold sheets and an empty bed.

  “Aaaaaa.” I hear my beautiful, little girl call out and I struggle to pull myself together. She makes random sounds while lying in her crib as I sit here in misery.

  Stifling the emotions that burn, I gather the strength I rely on from my paltry reserves and go get my daughter. “Hi, peanut,” I coo as I enter her room. Just looking at her puts my life in focus. It’s amazing to me how children can completely alter your world.

  Aarabelle is on her back looking at me with the love I’m desperate to hold on to. To her, the world is perfect. She doesn’t know pain, and in some ways she’s lucky. At least Aara didn’t fall in love with her father to have him stripped from her life. The things I worry about she’ll never fear because she’ll never have known it.

  “Aaaaa!” she squeals as I look down at her. Her dark brown hair sticks out haphazardly and her brown eyes shine with adoration. She makes me want to get through this.

  “Hi, baby.” She kicks her legs and her arms flail uncontrollably as I bend to scoop her up.

  I hear a knock on the door as I cradle Aara in my arms. Every single time it happens, my heart clenches and my stomach turns. It’s been six months since that knock happened, and it still feels like the first time. For a while, I prayed it was Aaron going to show up and tell me this was all a giant misunderstanding. I place Aarabelle in her swing and draw a deep breath.

  Unhurriedly, I move to the front door trying to quell the desires I conjure without permission. It’ll be Mark again . . . I tell myself and focus on breathing. It’s like having a mini panic attack each time.

  I answer the door and a man is there with his back to me. His arms are thick and his shoulders broad. The tight shirt clings to every ridge on his body. I take in the walnut-colored hair that’s short and trimmed. He seems familiar, yet it couldn’t be because he’s in California. “Liam?”

  Slowly he turns, easing into a wide grin. His tall, hulking body blocks the sun behind him. My face falls as seeing him brings it all back. Liam Dempsey. If having Mark and Jackson around is what I consider difficult, then Liam is going to be agony.

  He removes his aviators and there’s a gleam in his eyes. “Hey, Lee. I was in the neighborhood. Wanted to come say hi.” His crystal blue eyes shimmer in the sun and I secure my mask firmly in place. If we’re going to talk about Aaron at all, I need it. I don’t feel . . . I don’t hurt.

  “I didn’t realize California and Virginia are now neighboring states. Last I heard you were still out west?” Even I can hear the monotone in my voice. There’s no way these guys don’t see it. I’m not fooling anyone, but I really don’t care. I pull my long, blonde hair to the side and grip the door.

  I take a second to look at him. He looks bigger, taller, or maybe I haven’t been around enough people. But everything about Liam looks . . . different. His frame takes up more space than I remember and he’s let the scruff grow out on his face. Yet it only helps define his strong jawline. I may be grieving, but there’s no way to ignore how good-looking he is.

  “Can I come in?” he asks sweetly.

  He’s Aaron’s best friend, his swim buddy, his brother through and through. Liam has been a part of our life for a long time and seeing him makes me feel Aaron’s loss even more. I nudge the door open and allow him to enter. Just focus on breathing, Natalie . . . he’ll leave soon.

  “I tried to call,” he says while looking around.

  “Oh, I never saw it.” The lie slips out. He’s taken this oath to Aaron far beyond my patience. I’ve starte
d ignoring his calls because he wants to talk about the past. The stories of them in the field, or worse when he wants to reminisce about my wedding. Liam also has this uncanny way of seeing too much. He knows how to read people, but especially me.

  He walks over and grins, his blue eyes shimmering with amusement. “Sure you didn’t. We haven’t really talked much since I went back to Cali.”

  Because I don’t want to. I bite the words back and go for a softer response. “Not much has changed.” Yet everything has.

  “Aarabelle has gotten big and you look great,” he says as he tosses his phone and keys on the table.

  “Thanks.”

  Liam smiles and pulls me into a hug. “I’m not worried about you dodging my calls anymore,” he says, letting me go.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’m living here now.”

  What?

  Crap.

  “Don’t look so happy. I was in the area and wanted to come check on you since you were missing my calls.” Liam’s eyes divert to the flag encased on the mantel. It sits there, reminding me daily how that’ll be the only thing I have of him. I want to throw it against the wall. Smash it until there’s nothing left and burn it. I hate that flag because I’d rather have him. I want Aaron, not some token for his service.

  “I am happy. I just didn’t know you were up for orders,” I say as I grab Aarabelle and pull her into my arms.

  His eyes stay on the mantel. “Is it really that bad?” he asks.

  “No, of course not,” I say, wishing I had some way to pull his attention away from the awkward conversation we’re having.

  Liam turns and his eyes stay fixed on Aarabelle. “She’s beautiful, Lee.” His hand grazes the top of her head. “I have something for her.”

  I draw a deep breath and cradle Aarabelle close. “Really?”

  He chuckles and removes a necklace out of his pocket, “I got this for Aarabelle before you had her. When I was overseas I thought it was something a little girl should have, but . . . well, I’m never having one.” His lips twitch with amusement as he lifts the gift in the air.

  Stepping closer, I look at the tiny, green jewel that hangs on the end of the chain. It’s small, delicate, and yet breathtaking, surrounded by diamonds. “Liam, this is too much.”

  “Nah, like I said, not like I’ll ever have kids. I’d have to find a girl who actually might like me.” Liam snickers hoarsely and looks out the window.

  “Yeah, I could see where that could be difficult for you,” I joke and relax a little. “Thank you though, it’s beautiful.”

  He smiles and places his hand on Aarabelle. “So is she.”

  She is. She’s tiny and a handful, but to me she’s perfect. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of is wrapped up in my arms. I hold her close and nuzzle her. “Yeah, I think so too.”

  Liam clears his throat, bringing my attention back to him, “I saw his car is still in the drive. Have you met with the Veterans’ Affairs people yet?”

  I nod and try not to look at him. I’ve put off doing the things I know I need to do. Closing out all of Aaron’s accounts, his will, selling his car, maybe even this house, but I don’t want to. “I’ve been busy.”

  He steps closer and his hand grips my shoulder gently. “I can help if you need me to.”

  Everyone always offers to help. That’s the thing I’ve learned the most about death. People come out of the woodwork offering a hand. They cook for you, clean your home, fix the broken shutter, but it’s all superficial. No one knows what to say, so they try to do, but after a week or a few months, the help no longer comes. You have no choice but to face life head-on and learn that people forget—they move on. But I haven’t. I live the hell that was forced upon me day in and day out.

  “I’m fine.” I give a fake smile. “I have Mark and Jackson if I need them, plus I’m sure you have plenty of other things you need to worry about. You just moved and I know checking in takes a lot of time.”

  “I took leave, plus I like bugging you anyway.”

  “Really, I can handle it.”

  “No one is saying you can’t. I’m saying you don’t have to. Lean on the people around you. He was my friend and you are too, so don’t be too proud.” His eyes pierce mine as he locks his gaze.

  What is with these men and their inability to let me be?

  “Okay, fine,” I concede.

  “Good. Not like you had much of a choice. I’m kinda relentless.”

  I snort, “I remember.”

  An awkward silence falls between us. Thankfully, Aarabelle stirs, bringing my attention to her.

  “Have you heard from Patti?” Liam asks.

  “No, she’s pretty much disappeared since Aaron’s death.” My mother-in-law understandably didn’t take the news well. She’s cut off contact with all of us. She refuses to see Aarabelle and wants absolutely no part in my life. She claims if I loved him, I wouldn’t have let him go. I would’ve demanded he stay. If she knew her son at all, she’d know that wouldn’t have worked.

  Liam takes a step toward the mantel and his hand reaches out to the flag. He stands there staring at my mini memorial. Aaron’s photos line the shelf. His boot camp photo, our wedding, and one of the two of them all sit next to the flag. His trident sits in front. Liam’s hands brace the stone wall and his head falls. I watch him as his fingers tighten and turn white from clutching the ledge. It’s as if he’s forgotten I’m here. Tears threaten to fill my eyes as I watch his closest friend silently mourn. It’s a moment where I can almost feel the pain radiating off of him. I turn my back and give him some privacy.

  “People handle shit differently I guess,” Liam mutters quietly.

  I turn back around as he grips his neck. “How are you handling it?” I question.

  He turns and shakes his head. “I’ve called his number a few times. I was drunk, and I don’t know, it was just instinct to call and tell him something stupid. The first time it went to his voicemail and . . .” Liam’s eyes snap back to mine as he catches himself. “What about you?”

  My façade shifts into place as I repeat the speech I’ve given so many times. “I’m living. It’s hard, but I’m handling it.”

  Liam knows me. He’s also an interrogator for the SEALs. He’s one of the best, and for some reason I forgot who I was lying to. “Really?” he asks unbelieving.

  His large frame moves forward as he assesses my reactions. I try to remember all the things Aaron practiced on me. How he would make me stand my ground, not shift or move my eyes, but Liam is a different ball game. “Yes,” I say confidently.

  “You know who I am, right?” His calloused hand grazes my wrist and my heart rate accelerates. I’m not afraid of him, but he’s the first man to touch me intimately since Aaron’s death. Even though we’re just friends, my chest tightens. “You’re lying to me,” Liam says in his deep voice.

  I suppress a shiver and try not to look into his eyes. I don’t want him to see what I’m hiding deep inside. He can read me, he’s trained to see through my layers of bullshit, and I need to keep myself shielded from him.

  “Natalie.” He lifts my chin, but I keep my eyes closed. “You can tell me. I can’t imagine if it were you that he lost that he’d be fine. He’d be a fucking mess, a lunatic with broken furniture all over the house. So you don’t have to be okay. You can be angry or whatever else.”

  His words seep through my soul and I open my eyes. “I don’t get to be whatever else. I have Aarabelle,” I say as I look at the baby in my arms. “I have to be fine.” The steel wall I hide behind is strong and solid. I’m safe there.

  “That’s not true. You’re going to keep bottling this shit up and then explode.”

  I grit my teeth and let out a deep breath through my nose. “What’s your deployment schedule look like? Will you be around?” There’s no doubt in my mind he knows I’m diverting. I want out of this conversation.

  “You know I can’t tell you that, but I’m here for you. I’m going to do a
few things and then we can figure out what else has to be done.”

  “I really don’t need the help,” I say even though I don’t know what I need anymore. Aarabelle stirs and I rock her gently.

  “Okay, well, I need to do something for the next month I’m on leave, so you’re helping me.”

  “Now who’s the liar?” I ask.

  Liam rolls his sleeves and winks. “I never lie.”

  I laugh an honest laugh for the first time. He’s lying about lying. Aarabelle begins to fuss, and as much as I want to argue with him, she needs to eat.

  “Which SEAL team are you with?”

  Please don’t say four.

  I don’t know why it matters. The way he lets out a hesitant sigh, I brace for it. “Four,” he steps closer and puts his hand on my shoulder. “He should be with me.”

  “No, he should be with me.”

  “Yeah, he should,” Liam says and the sadness is apparent in his eyes.

  This hurts us both. Liam and Aaron were brothers. If one died, they both died. Aaron once spoke of the brotherhood they shared in comparison with that of Jackson and Mark. While they were all close, he and Liam were almost blood thick. They carried each other through BUDs training, and when Liam’s sister died, Aaron was by his side the entire time.

  “I’m sorry, Demps,” I say as I shift Aarabelle in my arms.

  “Why the fuck are you sorry?” he asks, sounding affronted.

  “You two were close. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

  Liam pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is this what you do?”

  My jaw falls slack as I try to figure out what he’s asking me.

  “You pretend.” Liam’s eyes soften as he studies me.

  “I don’t know what you all want,” I say, exasperated. He smiles and I want to slap him. What the hell is he smiling about?