A Torey Hope Novel Series: The Complete 4-Book Box Set

by A. D. Ellis

  Kyle

  “Often the thought of pain is actually worse that the pain itself.” ~Greg Behrendt

  I wasn’t being fair to Josie; I wanted to know about her past, but I wasn’t ready to tell her about my past. Other than Jeremiah, I hadn’t told anyone what happened to Izzy. Before I came to Torey Hope, the therapist told me I needed to let go of the guilt. The police had determined that Izzy had wrecked before my text even came in; me texting her while she was driving wasn’t what killed her. I truly was letting go of that guilt because I had a comprehensive police report to prove I wasn’t at fault.

  Letting go of the guilt of moving on with my life was harder; no, not hard, impossible. How could I smile when she was gone? How could I laugh with friends when she was gone? How could I set up house with a beautiful girl when my Izzy-bel was gone? I lived with the guilt with every breath I took. I enjoyed Josie’s company and I knew that rooming with her was in the best interest of us both. But then I would catch myself laughing and joking with her, smiling at her, breathing in her scent, wanting to touch her, and I’d be bombarded with feelings of guilt as powerful as military weapons. Was Izzy watching? Was she sad that I was moving on? Did she think I was betraying her by moving on too soon? If I forced myself to answer these questions, I knew the answers; Izzy would have wanted me to be happy. In fact, she would have absolutely loved Josie. But, instead of embracing the true knowledge I had of what Izzy would want, I clung to the falsities and guilt; moving on hurt and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hurt any more than I already did.

  I wanted to tell Josie about Izzy; I just didn’t know where to start. “Hey, so I used to be married, but she and my unborn child died in a car accident over a year ago. I came here to escape the haunting memories of my dead wife and child, but I can’t escape the guilt I feel over moving on without her.” Exactly where do those words fit into a conversation?

  So I focused more on Josie. Her confidence was growing; it was slow going, but I was seeing the real her peek out here and there more and more each day. She was making strides, but she still had a long way; if asked point blank if she loved herself or felt good about herself, I didn’t think she would have been able to say yes at that point in time.

  Something happened to her in the past; I didn’t think she was physically abused because she wasn’t skittish around anyone. I thought she had probably been emotionally abused. Her confidence was crushed, her will was corralled like those wild horses she was so fond of; her spirit was broken. I wanted to know who hurt her. A husband? If so, she couldn’t have been married for long. Her parents? That seemed likely based on what her Uncle Robert had told me about her father, Richard. I was determined to get her to trust me enough to share her past; I felt like she would finally be able to love herself, love the real Josie, once she spoke about her past out loud. Do you see the irony in this, Martin? You want her to talk about her own past to help let go of it. How about you take your own advice? I ignored my psyche; talking about my past and letting go of it meant that I was leaving Izzy and forgetting about her. I wasn’t ready to do that; I didn’t know if I ever would be.

  **********

  Sally had really come through for use on finding the house and she proved her worth again when she found me a perfect spot for a shop. It wasn’t far from the house, so I could walk if needed, but it also had ample parking for my bike and customers. The shop front was perfect for catching customers’ attention. I was totally stoked that Torey Hope didn’t have a tattoo shop; even better, the closest one was about 30 miles away so I would be able to draw in customers from some of the surrounding towns as well.

  Josie helped set up the store front. I showed her some of my work and she painted these huge panels of my four favorite pieces. We put two panels in each window; this gave a little mystery as to what was inside and showed some of my work. Josie had been playing around with my shop’s name; she wanted to paint the sign for it. I was going simple with the name; “Kyle Martin Ink Designs” was the name of my shop before, and I thought it still worked well, so I was sticking with that. She designed two completely different signs to hang in each window between the panels; the girl was truly talented.

  I had brought a lot of my furniture from the old shop and put it in storage, so I had only a few things to order and set up. Within a week, my shop was functional. Jeremiah and Josie and I worked on setting up a business page online so that I could bring customers in. We decided we’d cross advertise on each other’s sites in hopes of bringing business in for both of us.

  Josie insisted on being my first customer. I had drawn up a tiny wild horse with the script “run free” and she fell in love with it the moment she saw it.

  “Kyle, it’s like you peeked into my brain and saw exactly what I was picturing. This is perfect.” The kiss she had planted on my cheek was, I’m sure, meant to be friendly but the burning sensation I felt there left me a bit dazed. It was like I could feel her lips there the rest of the day.

  “Ok, Jo, are you sure you’re ready for this?” I asked her as I set up my gun and ink. Glancing at her I could see her nervousness, but I also saw excitement and anticipation. “Ahhh, I see you ARE ready for this. That’s my girl; I’m predicting this one taste will turn you into a tattoo junkie real quickly.” She bit her beautiful lip and her eyes went wide.

  “I’m just so excited to be doing something I’ve always wanted to do without having to worry about repercussions or the image that someone else thinks I should be portraying. I want to portray the real me and this tattoo is part of the real me.” I hung on her words as I tried to piece together her past. Her gorgeous eyes were big and bright as she spoke and I felt a jolt in my stomach as I took in her flushed cheeks. Running my thumb across the inside of her wrist, I admired her delicate skin. Without thinking I pulled her wrist to my mouth and feathered a kiss across the skin there; her breath caught and our eyes met. I felt her pulse quicken under my thumb, “Last chance, Jo, are you sure you want to permanently ink your body?” I chose to ignore the heavy breathing and obvious sexual tension between us; I didn’t mean to cause that, I just had a gut reaction to seeing her like this and my mouth needed to touch her skin.

  On a shuddering breath she nodded her head, “Yes, I’m sure. Let’s go.” I had to laugh at her demand. I think she was worried she’d back out if she let me wait too long.

  Fifteen minutes later her wrist was red from the needle and shiny from the goop I’d rubbed on it. I wrapped it up in gauze and plastic and gave her the care instructions. “Not to worry, though, I think you know a pretty good guy who can keep an eye on it for you and watch to be sure it’s healing okay.” She smiled at me as I spoke, and I thought to myself that I wanted to make her smile like that every day. And then I felt a shot of guilt straight to my heart; I had made my wife smile, I shouldn’t be making other women smile.

  Through the guilt, I hugged Josie to my side, “You did great, Jo-Jo. We’ll get started on that back piece soon and do it in small spurts, okay?” She nodded her head into my chest. When I heard a sniffle, I pulled her away from me and saw tears. “Jo, what’s wrong? Do you regret getting the ink?” Shit, I’d never had someone cry after I had inked them.

  “No, no, no. I don’t regret it at all. I’m just happy. This little blob of ink represents a lot for me. It’s the first time I’ve done something just for me. It has a message that is important to me. One of my favorite people in the world gave me this tattoo and shared in this moment with me. Sorry, I’m just emotional.” She took a deep breath and wiped her tears.

  Leaning in, I kissed her head. “I’m honored to have shared this moment with you, Josie. I hope to be here for many more of your firsts.”

  **********

  That night we had the whole clan over. Our backyard was not huge but it was big enough for the kids to run around and explore a new area. Since it was cold, they weren’t outside long. After we showed everyone around the house, Josie asked the kids if they wanted to paint. She had bought them all a
small canvas and set up little paint palettes for them to use. The older kids, Beckett, Abby, and Megan, took a few moments to think and then began painting. The younger children dove right in; Kendrick, Zach, and the twins, Decker and Sawyer, were covered in as much paint as their canvases were within moments. Luckily, Josie had chosen washable paints for this occasion. Nicky Morgan, Zach’s father, joined him in painting; the grown man knelt beside his son and spoke quietly to him as he watched the boy boldly add color to his canvas. Nicky laughed when Zach “accidentally” got some paint on his father’s nose. Leaning in to nuzzle his son’s cheek, Nick exclaimed, “Oh, you’ve got paint on your cheek. Sorry, it was an accident.” Everyone in the studio room laughed at these antics; my laughter soon turned somber as I recalled the baby I’d never meet, the child I’d never watch grow up, the relationship I’d never have with my own daughter or son. My eyes stung as tears threatened; I turned to leave so that I could gather myself emotionally. I was going to spend a lot of time around these families; I needed to get myself together and not lose it every time I felt regret or jealousy over the parents’ relationships with their children.

  “Hey, are you okay?” I heard her voice just as her hand slipped into mine. I knew it was meant to be a friendly, caring gesture but the jolt of electricity it sent through my body to feel her skin on mine was just more than I could handle in the state I was in. I removed my hand from hers and moved away; what I longed to do was hug her to me, I wanted her closeness, I wanted her calming. But I shouldn’t want that; I couldn’t have that.

  “Yeah, just got a little caught up in the moment in there. Jose, I promise I’ll tell you about all my shit sometime, I’m just not ready yet. I’m sorry.” I sighed and hung my head. I hated this person I had become. The real me didn’t hide from things, I took everything in stride and faced problems head-on. Then my wife died and I became this broken man who hid his problems and feelings. I knew Josie would be the perfect friend to confide in, but talking about it was painful, and I wanted to numb myself and not feel the pain. The only thing I wanted was to revel in the memories of Izzy, the good memories. But now even the good memories brought guilt and pain; remembering her made my heart soar, until I fell to Earth with the pain of never having her with me again. Remembering Izzy now mixed with thoughts of Josie and the guilt over that mixture made me physically ill. When had these thoughts of Josie started? I couldn’t pinpoint a specific moment, but I needed the thoughts to stop. I needed to keep my memories of Izzy alive in my mind, I couldn’t let her go. I loved Josie as a dear friend, but I couldn’t have more than that. It wouldn’t be fair to Izzy’s memory, and it wouldn’t be fair to Josie; she deserved someone who could give 100% of himself to her, and I could never do that, no matter how much I cared for her.

  “Kyle, I think it would do us both some good to talk about our pasts, but please know that I don’t want to pressure you in any way. You’re one of my best friends, and I want to be here for you, but I don’t want to push. We can both talk when we feel up to it.” That damn sweet face looked at me expectantly, and all I wanted to do was lean in and kiss her. I couldn’t want shit like that. My psyche whispered, So what, Martin, are you planning to live the rest of your life feeling guilty and lost? Are you really thinking you can live without love? Not to be crass, but what about sex? Never going to have that again either? Be real here, man.

  I pushed the words from my head. I missed sex something fierce, but I’d only ever made love to Izzy, I couldn’t see myself with someone else. Ever.

  That’s not true, I could picture myself with Josie easily, so easily that I felt terrible that I could imagine my body aligning with hers so clearly. So I forced the image of our bodies writhing together from my head and told myself that I couldn’t picture sex with anyone but my late wife.

  I didn’t want to live forever feeling lost and guilty. My heart wanted love. But the problem was that my heart wanted love with Izzy; I wasn’t ready to love someone else.

  That’s not true either. My heart had been telling me for a while that it wanted to love Josie; I wanted to love Josie. I probably could have loved her. But loving Josie meant, in my screwed up mind, that I was leaving Izzy. So I told myself that I wasn’t ready to love someone else. It was just easier to believe that. The constant war inside my head and heart was beginning to wear on me.

  “I’m going to go get the kids set up to watch a movie while the girls and I chat. I think the guys are out in the garage when you’re ready to join them.” Josie patted my shoulder, almost as if she recognized I couldn’t do the physical closeness right now.

  I sighed as she left the room. My head and heart were so fucked up right now. How could I love and miss my dead wife so much while still longing for the touch and closeness of my new best friend? Days like this made me want to crawl in bed and hide under the covers for the rest of my life. Days like this brought the heavy blanket of darkness tighter around me and made it harder to breathe. I had promised Izzy I would keep breathing, but I wouldn’t live without her. But now, in fleetingly brief moments, I was feeling like I wanted to live instead of just breathing. And that brought more guilt.

  **********

  I found all the men in the garage. Our garage wasn’t much to look at; at some point we’d probably need to turn it into a fix-up project. But for now it served its purpose. We stood around a portable heater. Jeremiah had brought a case of beer to keep in the garage fridge as a house warming present and we all cracked one open and toasted to Josie’s and my new businesses and our new home. After a few quiet moments, Captain Decker spoke up.

  “Son, this isn’t meant to be an intervention, but all of us here are your friends, hell, I’d say we’re more like family. It’s not our place to force you to talk about something if you don’t want to. But, I wanted you to know that talking about something painful from the past can really help to ease the pain.” He paused to see how I would react.

  I sighed. “I want to ease the pain, I really do. But my fear is that if I lose the pain, I’ll also lose the memories.”

  “That makes sense, it really does. Something I’ve found is that talking about the good times helps to keep the good memories alive and also helps to ease the pain of losing her.” Captain Decker spoke and I knew he came from a place of experience with this same situation. “Son, it took me way too long to work through loss and move on and I left a path of hurt and regret and heartache in the wake of the years I held onto the pain. Don’t take as long as I took; I lost too much during those years and people around me were hurt because of my unwillingness to let it go. It’s not easy and I’m not saying that you have to forget. But once you can speak of her and let the pain go, there’s more room for just the good.” I nodded at the man through a lump in my throat.

  “You should practice talking to us. Do it like a band-aid. Just rip it off and tell us something from your past. That way you’ll be more ready to talk to Josie when it’s time.” I glanced up as Nicky Morgan spoke. How did this man struggle in so many aspects of life yet seem so very perceptive in others? My face must have been questioning because Nicky shrugged. “I see you looking at Josie sometimes. It’s like you don’t want to like her, but you can’t help it. Your eyes look at her the same way Nate looks at Libby and Jeremiah looks at Audrey. But your eyes also look like you feel guilty. Our hearts can love more than one person. You can love the person in your past while still loving Josie. Would the person in your past be mad if you loved Josie?” I instantly shook my head in honesty; I knew Izzy would be thrilled if I moved on with Josie. I could just hear her in my mind, Listen, Punk Boy, it’s not like you’re cheating on me. I’m dead and gone. We’ll see each other in eternity, but until then you’ve got to live. Josie is about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Give it a chance.

  I smiled as I thought about Izzy speaking those words to me. Taking a deep breath I spoke, “I was married to a woman named Izzy. I fell in love with her in second grade. A little over a year ago she was killed in a car
accident on the day we were going to find out we were having a baby after trying for over 5 years.” The words left me in a rush and the tightness in my chest loosened marginally.

  “Speaking for the group, I can tell you we’re all very sorry for your loss. But, I can also tell you that you’re a handsome young man with a lot to offer. I can’t imagine your wife wanting you to live in the way you’ve been living. I’ve known you since you were a small boy, Kyle; you need to get that sparkle back in your eyes. I miss the ‘fuck’em all’ attitude; I miss the life that used to exude from you.” Jack Jordan looked at me with warm eyes as he spoke. I nodded my head to acknowledge what he said because I didn’t trust my voice to speak.

  We moved on to safer subjects while we finished our beers. The kids’ movie was finished and the women were gathering everyone up to head home. Jeremiah found me in the kitchen before he left. He pulled me into a bro-hug. When he released me he spoke quietly, “Talk to Josie, man. I think the two of you could probably help each other just by listening and sharing. Nothing has to move too fast. Just be there for her and let her be there for you. You’re not doing anything wrong. I knew Izzy as long as you did; I know she’d want you to be happy and she’d probably want to kick your ass for holding on to this guilt over her. She wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back just because of her. Letting go and living doesn’t mean forgetting her. You’ll never forget her, none of us who knew her will ever forget her. Living without her sucks, but we can live and be happy; she would want that.” For what seemed the millionth time that night, I nodded and fought off the tears which threatened to fall. I knew all of the words directed at me tonight were true. However, knowing something is true and acting upon that truth are two very separate things.