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The regret on Merrick's face said enough, but he told me anyway. "He called the first week I was back. And a few times after."

"And?"

"And what? I haven't talked to him."

"I don't understand," I said, feeling like I was completely missing the point.

"We'd spoken once or twice in the hospital in Germany, but neither one of us were in any condition to be chummy," he said bitterly. "I didn't take his call and I haven't called him back."

"Why not?"

He shook his head and tried to push away from the counter, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Why not, Merrick?"

The cords of muscle in his arm went hard, trembling under my fingers. "Because I don't deserve his friendship. It's
my
fault we ran into the shit storm that killed the majority of my men.
My
fault he almost didn't make it back to his family."

"But he
did
make it back. I can't imagine he would blame you for any of it."

"He doesn't have to," Merrick snapped, the scowl on his face reminding me of the first day as his nurse.

I stayed quiet. I didn't want to provoke his anger, but I didn't want to tell him it would all be alright. It wouldn't be alright because he still blamed himself for so much, and he still struggled with moving on.

How long would it last? How many reminders would he get before he finally started to work through the painful memories?

Every screech of tires, every slam of a cupboard, even the loud whir of a lawn mower made him tense. It all made him remember.

Merrick's face was aimed in my direction, but his eyes were looking at ... nothing. Nothing at all. It caused a massive lump to form in my throat, thinking of what he must be going through, what he must be seeing in his mind at that very moment. He wouldn't feel comfort just by seeing the sincerity in my expression, and no matter what I said, it wouldn't change anything.

"I'm sorry, Merrick. I won't ask any more questions."

The anger on his face softened with regret, and he shut his eyes, cursing under his breath. "No. I'm sorry, Grace. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"It's okay. I shouldn't have pushed."

"No. Don't say it's okay. It's not." He sighed, slumping his shoulders. "I know you want to help and I know I'm being irrational. It's just too hard to think otherwise."

I reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. They were cold and trembling, and it made the tightness in my chest twist and turn. "You don't have to think otherwise, Merrick. Not yet, at least. No one should tell you how to feel because no one could possibly understand what you've been through. We just want you back. Your parents want you back, and I ..."

His head slowly raised, those captivating blue eyes staring straight ahead. It was obvious he still expected to see something whenever he opened them.

"You what?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

I drew in a deep breath and tried to keep my voice steady. I had no idea what I wanted to say, but I knew what he needed to hear. Exhaling slowly, I carefully chose the right words. "I want you back, too. I saw the old Merrick and I know he's still in there. We don't expect you to be the same as you were before, but we want you to
be
here. To be with us any way you can. To know that we're here right beside you."

Merrick's fingers constricted around mine and his thumb circled around the back of my hand. My mouth went dry, my stomach fluttered. Did he already know?

"I just think you need to take your own time," I added a little breathlessly. "Just remember you aren't alone, no matter how long it takes."

"How do you even know what the old me is like?"

"Because I saw you all the time. Saw you with your friends and family."

"But we never talked, never spent any time together. Hell, I couldn't even remember your name. I know that makes me an asshole, but that just makes me wonder all the more."

"You didn't need to know who I was. Doesn't change the fact that I still saw you."

His right eye darkened, the dilation of his pupil making the blue all but disappear. At the time, I didn't think about what it meant for his eye to react to anything at all. All I could think about was the way his hand kept hold of mine, and how much I wanted to move into his strong arms, and stay there forever.

"I see you now, Grace," he said, moving closer until our chests were just inches apart. "I–"

"Yo! I'm here, Merrick."

We both startled at the voice coming from the front door. Mary, Merrick's older sister, had arrived to pick him up. The timing couldn't have been more awful. Or should I say better?

Merrick slowly released my hand. I stepped away from him, trying to catch my breath. Mary walked into the kitchen and abruptly stopped when she saw us standing next to each other. I don't know what my expression must have looked like, but I assumed I looked like a love-struck fool. The heat in my cheeks was also a sign my entire face was scarlet.

"Did I interrupt something? I can leave if you need me to," Mary said, lightheartedly. Her lips stretched into a wide grin just before she winked at me.

She hadn't changed much since the last time I saw her. If I didn't know any better, I could swear she and Merrick were fraternal twins. Her blue eyes stood out starkly on her tanned and flawless face. She always kept her hair dark, but there were times when she was daring and put purple, blue, or pink in it. She was adventurous and beautiful, and from the look on her face, that hadn't changed either.

"Merrick was just telling me he was leaving," I said, grinning like an idiot. "It's good to see you again, Mary."

"Same to you, Grace. I've heard a lot about you lately."

"You have?"

Her mouth curved into another playful smile. "Lots." Stepping up to Merrick, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned down to return the hug, looking awkward in the process.

"Good to see you little brother. I've only got tonight before I have another few days on flight." She stepped back and looked him over with a scrutinizing twist to her lips. "My God, you look nice tonight."

"I can clean up pretty well," Merrick replied, his voice light, but his expression somewhat guarded.

"You want to come with us, Grace?" Mary asked. "We're going to get some dinner and catch up. I'd love to hear what you've been doing over the years."

"Oh." I struggled to speak, my mind scrambling on how to reject the offer without sounding desperate to get away. "I, um, no, thank you. You two go and have a good time. I have some things I need to do tonight."

Call Keara and ask her what the hell was happening to me, for starters.

Merrick turned toward me, his brow furrowed and his lips turned down, but Mary saved me. "Another time then, for sure."

"Yeah, of course. Thanks," I smiled.

Mary watched me for a moment, her gaze curious if not completely confused. But she didn't push for anything else. I needed to get the attention off of me and onto her before I bolted out the door at a dead run.

"I'm sorry, I'm just curious. You said you have a few days on flight. What does that mean?"

"Oh, I'm a flight attendant. I have a few days off at a time and I go back tomorrow."

"That sounds exciting."

"Not really," she chuckled. "It's boring most of the time, but it can be fun with some of the people I work with. I get to see a lot of neat places, too."

"Don't let her fool you, Grace," Merrick cut in. "She loves every minute of it."

Mary laughed and smacked her brother on the chest. "Only because I get to meet rich businessmen that get a little too handsy."

"And how does Sam feel about that?"

"He hates it, but he's seen what they look like. Old and stinky. Plus, he knows I'll never leave him for another. He's too good to me."

"Yeah, well he better be or I'll have to kick his ass again."

Mary rolled her eyes and turned back to me. "So how much longer do you have to take care of this loser? He seems to be moving around just fine."

"Well, that's up to him, I guess," I replied, glancing up at Merrick. "He still has quite a bit of therapy to get through, but most of it will be on his own anyway."

Merrick squared his shoulders, another deep frown stretching down. "I thought you'd need to help me with the leg."

"I will, but you're getting around really well so full time care isn't going to be necessary. No reason to pay for something you don't need, right?"

He lowered his head and shifted on the crutch. "I guess."

Mary lifted herself up onto the counter, a perfectly plucked eyebrow lifting curiously. "Interesting."

"What?" Merrick asked.

"Nothing." Her smile was wicked, but more teasing than anything else. She turned to address me and there was no animosity or ulterior motive behind her next words. Just pure inquisitiveness. "Last I heard, you were with Jason Reed. You two still an item?"

I was too busy dealing with the shock of hearing Jason's name come out of Mary's mouth so suddenly, I totally missed Merrick's entire body flinching.

"Jason Reed?
That's
the Jason you told me about?" he asked, a growl in his voice. He'd gone from anxious to angry in one second flat.

"Um, we aren't together anymore. Broke up a long time ago," I said to Mary, ignoring Merrick.

"Oh, good. He's an asshole. If you two were still together, I was going to tell you to leave his ass and go after my brother here," she said with another wink, then smacked Merrick's shoulder. "He can be an asshole, too, but he'll eventually feel bad about it."

I chuckled right along with her, until I looked up to see Merrick's hardened expression. I couldn't tell if he was mad at
me
or something else. Whatever it was, I didn't want to be around him when he finally snapped. I was tired, emotionally and physically. And frankly, this whole conversation was getting the best of me.

Coward
, I hissed in my mind.

"Calm down, Merrick," Mary sighed.

With that, I snagged my purse off the counter and waved goodbye to Mary. "I'll be here Monday, Merrick. Have a good night."

I didn't wait for a response. It was the first time I brushed him off so quickly.

When I reached the front door, I heard Mary finally speak. "Leave it alone, Merrick."

Whatever
it
was, it couldn't have been good.

Merrick

I was torn between the desire to go back to hiding from
everyone
and the need to climb out of this pit I found myself in.

Dinner with Mary was filled with her constant questioning about how I was feeling, what Grace was helping me with, and when I was going to stop being a 'big baby'. She didn't let up until I talked, which took a lot longer than she planned for.

I didn't blame her. I'd been acting like a child ever since I got back, treating her and everyone else like a burden. The same way I treated Mom like an annoyance.

"I'm working on it," I informed Mary.

"I can see that," she said on a sigh. "The question is why?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not. But maybe if you knew the reason why, it would help you understand the
how
a little better."

She had a point. I knew
one
of the reasons, but it scared the hell out of me. Just thinking about the last several weeks with Grace made me sigh and cringe at the same time.

I couldn't stand to have things done for me. Being in the military taught me to take care of myself, to be independent. I'd spent the better part of the last twelve years learning to survive in life or death situations and being trained to run
toward
the danger.

Now, it just felt like all of that was play time.

"I'll get through it. That's all I can do, right?"

By the time Mary brought me home, I was done talking and decided that thinking about the why would only hinder the how. Mary didn't know what she was talking about.

"I know things haven't changed, Mer, but we all hope you get through it," my sister said, her voice despondent. Then she left, going back to a life she enjoyed having.

But things
had
changed.

The pain was diminishing, making it easier to adjust. There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel and, angry or not, I was getting to the end. I was working at getting back to the old Merrick that Grace wanted.

Because
I
wanted
Grace
.

I wanted her more than I wanted to be pain free. Almost more than I wanted to see again.

The pull between us was so intense, focusing on anything else these days was completely pointless. She helped with my therapy, with cooking, with
everything
. And even though I hated it, I'm glad it was
her
.

She was there when I got frustrated, calming me down and reaching that part of me that was once filled with courage. The part of me I thought was still back in that miserable desert. She reminded me that the things which seemed
impossible
, were actually possible. I just needed to
want
it more than I wanted to
hate
it.

I hated a lot these days and I was tired. Tired of the anger and hopelessness. It drained me every single day.

There were also other changes.

Grace was quiet over the next couple weeks. Sure, we talked as much as we always did with an argument here and there, but only because I provoked her. She was just so damn sexy when she argued back. Her voice changed to this husky tone that made my chest tighten. The energy she radiated made every nerve in my body come alive. I promised to stop taunting her, but that was one promise I didn't think I'd keep for very long.

Plus, I'm pretty sure she enjoyed it as much as I did.

Grace asked about Mary and her husband, Sam. She asked about Mitch and, at my request, we even went to see him one day during the week. Leaving the house wasn't my favorite thing, but my brother was more important. The trial for the accident was quickly approaching, putting the whole family on edge since Mitch was still recovering. Even with her silence, Grace kept me grounded, which helped Mom keep her worries at bay. They didn't need me to lash out or lock myself up when it was still so fresh.

Keara and Josh came up in conversation quite a bit, too. Wedding plans were such a big deal to these women, but I didn't see the fun in it. Just a lot of stressing out about what was available and where it happened. It shouldn't matter
where
it happened, only that it
did
happen. Right?

We even argued about
that
. The same teasing and flirting as usual, but it just wasn't the same.

Grace distanced herself more each day, and no matter what I did to try and bring her back, she just wasn't the Grace from before. There were moments I told myself it was only in my head. Like the times she laughed at my lame jokes or when she kept encouraging me to try harder with therapy.

Those moments, she was the Grace I was falling for.

Then, there were the quiet times she seemed to be in another place entirely. Her voice grew timid, the smile was gone from her words. She stopped humming, stopped singing.

She was suffering.

From what? I had no idea. But I
know
pain. I know suffering better than a lot of people. It also didn't escape my notice that the suffering was just one of the connections Grace and I shared.

"What are you thinking about, Merrick?"

I sat up, breathing through the ache in my leg that came whenever we finished exercises. The end was coming fast. I wanted it. I wanted to move forward. But then what happens? Grace wouldn't be here any longer, and I was tempted to re-break my leg just to keep her.

You're a desperate fool.

"I'm thinking about what comes next," I said with a half shrug. "When my leg is ready to go, what will you do?"

She sighed, humming as she thought about her answer. The tingling from that small sound traveled through my chest and down my spine.
How is it possible for her to affect me like this?

"Well, I'll find another grumpy guy to help take care of, won't I? One that likes to swear and throw things."

She was trying to lighten the mood, but I was being serious. If she wasn't here with me, who would she end up with?

"If I asked you to stay a little longer ..."

Her hand landed on my shoulder, her fingers squeezing gently. "You've got this, Merrick."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. It doesn't change the fact that, eventually, you won't need me or your mother to help you get by. You'll see."

Maybe it was because I
wanted
to hear it, but she sounded disappointed. Of course, she misunderstood what I was trying to say.

"Grace–"

The shrill ring of my cell phone resonated throughout the room and, once again, the opportunity to talk to her was snatched away from me.

Her hand fell away from my shoulder and she answered the phone. I was going to break every phone in this house if I needed to, just so I could get a word in before I was too much of a coward to say them.

"Hello? Oh, hi Emma. I'm doing just fine. Yes, he's right here, just one moment."

The touch of her hand on mine forced me to draw in a long breath, bringing with it the sweet, inviting fragrance of Grace. If I could see, would I miss that completely? How many other things would I miss if sight took over?

She placed the phone in my fingers, but instead of pulling away, her touch lingered just a moment longer. Not long enough to satisfy me, but long enough to convince me to keep trying. To keep working at being the kind of man she could want. The kind of man she needed.

For now.

The knowledge of who her ex was, forced its way into my mind, and she took the tensing of my body as discomfort. Jason Reed would have never deserved Grace and imagining how he must have treated her only made me angrier.

Grace cleared her throat and pulled away. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

And I was back at square one. Nothing good came from anger anymore. Not here.

"Merrick? Hello?"

Lifting the phone to my ear, I resisted the urge to follow Grace. "Mom. I'm here."

"Hi, son. How are you today?"

"Fine."

Deep breaths.

"Okay, good. Well, your father and I were wondering if you wanted to come here for dinner. Mitch is moving around a bit and we thought it would be a good idea to have everyone here tonight. What do you think?"

I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. "That sounds great."

"Are you sure?"

I rolled my shoulders to release the tension pulsing in my neck and back. "Yeah, Mom. It's been a while since we've all been together."

"It has," she replied, unable to mask the excitement in her voice.

She wanted the family in one room, whole and happy. After the way I'd acted lately, I wasn't going to stop her from getting what she wanted.

"What time?"

"In a couple hours. You're welcome to invite Grace if you want."

And there it was. The gentle, hopeful push. I should take advantage of that suggestion, bring Grace with me and get her to see that I wasn't really an asshole all the time.

"I'll talk to her about it."

"Good. We'll see you around five then?"

"Yeah."

After our goodbyes, I dropped the phone to the bed and laid back down. I was tired. Tired of the work I had to do to get back to normal. Tired of not being myself.

Just tired.

It was pathetic. When had I become such a pussy? I used to be strong and intelligent. Not this whiny bastard that couldn't figure out what the hell he wanted.

The sound of footsteps outside my bedroom made me tense. My pulse raced and I couldn't take deep breaths anymore. I could almost smell that sweet vanilla scent coming off her skin. What would I give to press my nose to her neck and stay there for hours?

Almost anything.

"Do you mind if I leave early tonight, Merrick?"

God, that made everything hurt more. She wanted distance and I wanted ... what the hell
did
I want?

I hadn't been with anyone in a long time. Didn't even know
how
to be with anyone. With Grace, it would be uncomplicated. So easy to just let go of all the dark memories that haunted my mind. It would be so painless to find comfort in her.

"Merrick?"

I sat up and dropped my head forward. My mouth opened to say how much I needed her, but I forced other words instead. "If you need to leave early, that's fine. I'm going to my parents anyway."

"Oh good. I have plans with Keara and Josh. Kind of a small engagement celebration I guess. I just wanted to make sure you had some dinner."

Always worrying about me.

"Like I said before, Grace, you aren't my maid."

She didn't speak and I didn't hear her move. It was a standoff of sorts. Who was going to break that awful, awkward silence first?

"I guess I'll just be here with you tomorrow then," she muttered.

Fuck, I wanted her even more every time she did that. Never 'I'll
see
you tomorrow' or
'See
you next week'. It was always, 'I'll
be
here'.

Who does that? Who is so aware of a person that they change the way they say goodbye? Something so ingrained in their minds, just to make that person more comfortable.

"Goodbye, Merrick."

I nodded.

That's it.

A simple nod of acknowledgement. It was all I could do.

Moments later, the front door closed with a soft click, and Grace was gone.

"Let her go, Merrick. Just let her go."

***

"How you feeling, sweetie?"

Mom's hands tightened around my arm as she led me to the couch. There was no counting steps here and after bumping into the coffee table, it was obvious I'd hurt myself before finding a seat. As always, Mom came to the rescue.

"I'm good, Mom. Getting stronger every day."

"That's wonderful, son. Grace said you're making good progress. But I want to know how you are
feeling
."

I paused. How the hell was I supposed to answer
that
one?
I'm feeling like a sack of rotten potatoes. I'm feeling desperate for the woman that stays with me almost every day and taunts me with her voice and her touch. I'm feeling like there's no hope for a future with me, and there isn't a God damn thing I can do about it.

Saying any of that would either make Mom upset or she'd take my life into her own hands and start pushing harder.

I could tell her that wanting Grace was the only thing that kept me from remembering all the shit. That she'd gotten through to me in ways no one else could.

"I feel good, Mom. A little tired, but good."

I settled into the couch cushions and set aside my crutches, waiting for her to push for more. She surprised me by just sighing and patting my shoulder. "Dinner will be ready in a minute."

"Thanks, Mom."

She kissed my cheek and her weight came off the cushion next to me. I closed my eyes and leaned back, resting my head on the back of the couch. This was the same couch that used to be in the living room of our old house. It felt the same and smelled the same, but I couldn't get a grasp on what it actually looked like.

Seconds later, someone else dropped to the couch, making me bounce off the cushion a good inch.

"Looks like you're almost back to normal. How much longer on the crutches?"

Micah.

"No idea. Don't really care. I'm just taking it one day at a time."

"Mmhmm, I bet you are."

I couldn't resist taking the bait. "What the hell is
that
supposed to mean?"

He hesitated. I could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind, picking what to say that would get a rise out of me but wouldn't make me go ballistic. "Made a move on Grace yet?"

It would feel really good to smack him on the back of the head right about now.

"I don't want to hear it, Micah."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Stop," I demanded. "We aren't kids anymore, man. I'm not going to argue with you."

Another pause where the only sounds were the voices coming from the kitchen.

"Guess you really
are
taking it one day at a time. It's good to see that you're not so full of rage anymore." His weight shifted back until he was right next to me. He cleared his throat and bumped my shoulder. "Mitch hates the crutches, too, if it makes you feel any better."