Young Revelations (Young Series) (33 page)

BOOK: Young Revelations (Young Series)
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“That’s very quick,” she observes. “And Samantha was only nineteen at the time?” I nod, uncertain where this is going. “Were you concerned about her inexperience with relationships?”

“Of course I was,” I say. “She’d never left Iowa at that point. She’d never experienced the world the way I had, or ever had a serious boyfriend. From the beginning, I was afraid she’d wake up on any given morning and she would be gone because she was overwhelmed by everything that happened.”

Dr. Morris sits up a little more in her chair. “Did she ever give you reason to think she might become overwhelmed? And if she did come to you about such concerns, how would you have reacted?”

I think for a few moments about the very early days with Samantha. I know there were times she was overwhelmed; I experienced those same moments myself. But it never got to a point that I really believed she might leave. The fear was always there, and it still is, but now I wonder if I was making it worse than it actually was. “I know she was homesick at times,” I say slowly, thinking through everything. “And I think there were times she might have wanted to go back, but she never really vocalized anything to me. If she had, I would have done whatever I needed to do to make her feel better—fly her home for a couple days or fly out her family to stay with us.”

Dr. Morris asks me to recount the two and a half years Samantha and I were married, from the proposal to the day I received the divorce papers with her signature. I tell her how devastated I had been to watch my family drive away from me, and how I was helpless to do anything about it—I’d told Samantha whatever decision she made, I would support that decision. In hindsight, it’s plain to see why Samantha felt I never fought for her when she left and why she felt I might have wanted her to leave—I did nothing to stop her and I should have; no matter what agreement she and I had. When I say this out loud to Dr. Morris, she goes back to scribbling in her little notebook.

“Why didn’t you fight for her or stop her?”

I shrug. “She needed to be safe,” I say quietly. “And she felt I couldn’t keep her safe anymore.”

“Do you really believe that is the reason she left?” Dr. Morris asks, raising an eyebrow.

I stare at her for a few moments. “Well, yes,” I respond. “Why else would she have left? I knew she loved me and was
in
love with me; that hadn’t changed in the slightest.”

“How do you know that, Matthew?” the doctor asks.

“I just do,” I say, feeling myself getting irritated. “I know her better than she knows herself at times and if that had changed, I’d notice.” Dr. Morris begins scribbling again and I go on the defensive. “Look, I know why she left me—I’d nearly been killed and I was incapable of keeping my family from harm. I’m still incapable of that. I know she loves me.” I don’t know why I keep repeating this to her—who am I trying to convince, her or me?

“You think you’re incapable of keeping your family safe?” Dr. Morris responds, looking up at me again. “Why?”

“Because nothing I do is good enough. All my security measures, my team of bodyguards… It’s useless. My son has been kidnapped twice in a matter of months—once alongside his mother. The people I’m supposed to be able to trust are going around behind my back trying to destroy everything I’ve worked for. My best friend…”

“What about your best friend?” Dr. Morris prompts. “Tell me about that.”

I sigh, running my hands through my hair. “I don’t know what there is to tell,” I say bitterly. “I knew him for over twenty years, helped him with his PTSD after leaving the Marines, gave him whatever he needed to be comfortable and happy, and he repaid all that by betraying me in ways only he could manage. He was my head of security; he was supposed to keep Samantha and Tyler safe while I was ‘dead’ after the plane crash. Instead he stepped aside, arranged for what was probably a fake alibi, let three of our friends be killed, all so a team of Russian asshats could kidnap my family. He then had my son kidnapped and that ended with him dying in my arms after he took a bullet for me.”

“I can see how that might shake your faith and trust in people,” Dr. Morris says. “But I don’t understand why you think you can’t keep your family safe. From what I’m hearing, you have done everything within your power to ensure their safety. You can’t control outside forces, Matthew. There is only so much one man can do and it’s perfectly normal to feel as though you’ve failed, particularly after such frightening events. But you cannot blame yourself for all of this. You said yourself that others played a more direct role in harming your family. Even a man with absolute control in his life cannot control or predict the actions of others at all times.”

“Maybe not, but I should have been able to tell that the people in my life were lying to me. I should have been able to stop this before it ever got to this point.”

“Why? You’re only one man. If you spent your entire life monitoring the actions of others for the mere reason that they
might
do something to harm your family, you wouldn’t get anything done. As difficult as it may be, there are times you need to put trust in others, especially those who have never given you reason to doubt them. Did Leo ever show signs that you couldn’t trust him?”

My eyes dart away for a second. “Not until recently,” I admit quietly. “We suspected he might have played a part in the plane crash, but I refused to investigate that possibility too deeply.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to find out that he’d betrayed me,” I hear myself say. My brow furrows. This is the first time I’ve admitted that aloud to anybody; I never even said that to Samantha. “I wanted to remain oblivious unless something worse happened, something I had no choice but to act on.”

“Even at the risk of your family?” Dr. Morris challenges.

“Leo was family,” I say firmly. “The problem is I don’t know who I can trust now.”

“Don’t you?” Dr. Morris replies. “While this is only our first meeting, it seems to me there is one person in your life you can trust without question. And that person is the very one you’re so afraid to lose.”

I can only stare at her. Of course she’s right; I’ve thought that myself. But it doesn’t solve the problem of why I keep pushing her away when what I need to be doing is pulling her closer to me. Unfortunately, before I can even pose the question to the doctor, a light flashes on her desk which apparently signals the end of our session. As we say goodbye and I make my next appointment with the secretary who obviously wants my attention, all I can think about is that I’m more confused now than I was before my therapy session. I suppose I worked out a couple things, but the big picture—the future of my relationship with Samantha—is still a huge work in progress.

23

 

I look up from the book I’ve been using to stave off the boredom during the very slow day at the bookstore. So far, we’ve had three customers and I don’t see business picking up in the hours that remain. Bonnie is confident that sales will pick up after Thanksgiving with the holiday shoppers; I just hope I don’t die of boredom before then. My eyes find what might be our fourth customer of the day heading inside the store and I feel my stomach flip over in recognition. Dr. Mark Reilly looks much different when he’s not standing under the glowing lights of the hospital and I can’t deny he looks great. He’s wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, and his short brown hair is curlier than I’ve seen it in the time I’ve known him. But his eyes are still a bright blue and utterly hypnotizing. I’m surprised to realize I’ve actually missed him since I was released from the hospital. True, I saw him very briefly the night Tyler was kidnapped, but he was the very least of my concerns that night.

When he spots me, he smiles and his dimples appear. I’d almost forgotten the dimples… “Well, isn’t this a surprise,” he says, approaching the counter. “I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you here…”

“Feeling’s mutual,” I reply, feeling a grin growing on my face. “What brings you all the way out here?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but the door of the backroom opens first. “About damn time,” Bonnie grumbles, joining me at the counter. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

Mark turns his gaze on Bonnie and I watch curiously as he leans across the counter to kiss her cheek. “Sorry,” he tells her. “Traffic was heavier than I anticipated.”

Bonnie seems to accept this and turns towards me. “Samantha, I told you my nephew’s dog had puppies. This is my nephew, Mark.”

“We’ve met,” Mark says; his eyes, sparkling in amusement, dart over to me.

“Oh?” Bonnie looks between us questioningly, then turns a slight glare on Mark.

“Mark was my doctor when I was in the hospital,” I clarify for Bonnie. “And we became friends.”

Mark gives me a smile. “So I take it you’re the one whose son wants a puppy?” he asks me.

“I suppose so,” I reply. “Though I haven’t actually decided whether he’s getting one.” I give Bonnie a pointed look that she rolls her eyes at and Mark chuckles. “So Finn has become a father. You must be proud.”

Mark rolls his eyes now. “I would be if I could figure out how the hell he was getting out of the house for his late night trysts,” he grumbles. “Either way, he’s one proud papa and the owner of the other dog is eager to get the puppies off to good homes.”

He takes his phone from his pocket and holds it out for me to see the puppies and I immediately melt at the sight of seven tiny black labs curled up on a pillow. “They’re adorable,” I coo, tilting the phone slightly so Bonnie can see as well.

“Two boys, five girls,” Mark tells us. “Most of them have already been claimed, but this little guy…” He touches a finger over to the screen and swipes a couple times until he finds a picture of a single puppy with huge brown eyes and a little pink tongue poking out of his mouth. “This is the runt of the litter. And apparently people prefer the strongest of the bunch. I’d take him myself, but I’m not home enough to care for a puppy. What do you think?”

“I think I’m sold,” I say, grinning. “And I think Tyler will love him. How much?”

Mark takes his phone back and slides it into his pocket. “Don’t worry about that,” he says dismissively. “Consider it a Christmas present for Tyler.”

My eyes widen at his words and I shake my head. “Mark, I can’t do that,” I insist.

“Sure you can,” he replies, good-naturedly. “That puppy deserves to go to someone who will love it and I know that will be Tyler. No arguments.”

I look at Bonnie for assistance, but she’s sitting back on her stool watching us with twitching lips. I sigh in defeat, grinning. “Thank you,” I say to Mark. “And yes, Tyler will love him.”

“That’s settled then,” Bonnie says, clapping her hands together. “Mark, come help your frail old aunt in the backroom with something.”

Mark raises an eyebrow at his aunt as she turns her back, shakes his head, and sends me a grin before following Bonnie. Once they’re both gone, I shake my own head, thinking how small the world is that Mark has come back into my life. I can think of a lot of people who might believe this to be some sort of sign—it’s almost too coincidental that whenever Mark shows up, Matthew and I are on the very brink of our relationship ending for good. Part of me wants to believe in this sign while the rest of me is telling that part to shut up and remember life isn’t a fairytale. Even if Matthew and I are done for good—a thought that makes my heart ache whenever it crosses my mind—the last thing I need is to get involved with anybody, and that includes the incredibly attractive Dr. Mark Reilly. Especially him, considering I am still attracted to him…

My focus needs to remain on myself, my son, and my unborn daughter. And I’m not yet ready to admit defeat when it comes to Matthew anyway.

The backroom door opens again and Mark reenters the main area. I shoot him a smile over my shoulder as I count out change to my current customer. When I finish, I find him leaning against the wall nearest to where I’m standing, watching me with a smile. “So you’ll have to let me know about the puppy,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “And whether you’d be interested in having lunch with me tomorrow.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise and I hesitate. Truthfully, I would enjoy having lunch with him, if for no other reason than spending time with somebody who isn’t close to Matthew like most the other people I know. “I will let you know about the puppy,” I tell him slowly, thinking as I speak, “and I would also be interested in having lunch with you.”

His grin widens. “Perfect. I’ll drop in tomorrow, then,” he says.

“Okay. Until tomorrow,” I reply with my own grin, surprised at how much I’m already looking forward to lunch.

With another grin, Mark leaves and I feel rather than see Bonnie standing behind me. I turn around and she’s got a rather stern expression on her face that is directed solely at me. I raise an eyebrow at her, uncertain why I’m getting that look. “What?” I ask uneasily.

“Didn’t know you and Mark were friends,” she comments evenly.

“Didn’t know you had a nephew,” I comment back.

She stars at me mildly for a few more moments, then nods. “Touché, Sam,” she says lightly. “He’s only lived out here since early summer, right around the time you came back, actually. We didn’t have a lot of contact until recently—he lived out in Oregon most of his life with his mother. My brother, his father, died when he was small and I didn’t really get along with my sister-in-law. So when Mark moved out here and got a job at the hospital, he looked me up, we had dinner, and now I can’t seem to get rid of him.” I grin at her words and the fond tone that belies them. “He’s a sweet boy and I want only the best for him, but he doesn’t always know the meaning of discretion.”

My brow furrows as I try to work out what she means. And then it hits me and I think I know why Bonnie pulled him into the backroom before he left. “Bonnie, it really isn’t like that,” I insist. “We truly are just friends. He was there for me while I was in the hospital and needed someone to talk to and the only time I’ve seen him since was the night Tyler was kidnapped.”

“Well, I hope that’s the truth,” Bonnie says quietly. “Because as much as I love Mark, I think I’ll always have a special place in my heart for Matthew.”

“So will I,” I reply firmly. “And I appreciate your advice and the warning, but…”

“You’re not going to listen to a damn thing I say?” she finishes for me.

I smile. “I was actually going to say I’m not looking for any new relationship, regardless of whatever happens between Matthew and me.”

“Don’t count him out just yet,” Bonnie warns. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a more determined man than Matt Young. Well, not since my husband anyway.”

It’s not often Bonnie talks about her husband. Neither Matt nor I ever met him—he died long before either of us met Bonnie—but from what I do know of him, he was the male equivalent of Bonnie herself. Matt told me once he died of kidney failure, though he never knew what caused it and neither of us has ever asked Bonnie. I wonder again what’s wrong with Bonnie and whether she’ll be okay; the thought of losing her is a painful one and I think I would react to her death similarly to how I did with my mother’s death. That’s not something I think I could face again…

––––-o––––-

Following my first session with Dr. Morris, I’ve been doing quite a bit of thinking. More than usual, that is. All my thoughts center around Samantha and what I’d be willing to do to get her back. I’ve had two more sessions since that first one and I think I’m finally starting to make progress, however minimal it seems right now. Dr. Morris and I have discussed every aspect of my life and I’ve let her dissect it bit by bit. Not surprisingly, she believes I have Daddy Issues, though she didn’t use that phrase, and she thinks I need to confront my father about a number of things, not least of all his treatment of Samantha over the years. I’m hesitant to confront him about anything at this point—I’ve come to the conclusion I no longer fear him the way I did when I was younger, but after all he’s done, I feel confrontation would only make things worse.

I’ve also come to the conclusion that I have an innate need to be completely responsible for Samantha’s and Tyler’s safety, and if I fail in that duty, I punish myself, and them at times, by pushing away from them. If I’m not perfect, I’m a failure. That’s something I need to work on. I also need to come to terms with the idea that Samantha and I are far different people than we were when we first met. Despite both of us saying exactly that to one another, I’ve yet to accept it. I keep trying to treat Samantha like she’s still nineteen and has no idea what the world is like. My need to protect her from the outside world will never go away, but I need to understand she can handle things if I’m not around. She’s proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s grown into a strong, independent woman, yet she still needs me as much as I need her. All she wants is to love me and for me to love her in return, and unless I get my shit sorted out soon, she’s going to decide that isn’t enough anymore.

My fourth session with Dr. Morris is later this afternoon. Right now, I’m wandering around town running errands that could probably wait, all because I’m debating on whether I should pop into the bookstore and see Samantha. I know she’s working today; when I called to tell Claire I’d be coming for Thanksgiving, she let that little tidbit slip out. That’s all she would say in regards to Samantha, despite my not so subtle prodding for more information. Now I’m right in front of the bookstore door and can see Bonnie standing behind the counter talking with someone, probably a customer, but from what I can see, there’s no sign of Samantha. Taking a deep breath, I reach out and pull open the door. As the bell above me jingles, Bonnie automatically looks up and smiles at me. I smile back, though it falters as I take her in for the first time in weeks. She looks like a different person, a much more ill version of her than I’ve ever seen, and it’s very disconcerting.

I stand to the side of the counter while Bonnie tends to her customer and once she’s done, she makes a beeline for me, and I’m not sure if she’s coming in for a hug or to slap me. I brace for both and chuckle in relief when she hugs me.

“Where the hell have you been hiding out, boy?” she demands, stepping back and crossing her arms.

I smile. “Around,” I say evasively. “I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to drop in and say hello after Leo’s funeral?” she asks.

I swallow hard and look away from her. “Sorry,” I say quietly. “I wasn’t really in any shape to socialize after that. You were there?”

She nods. “Of course I was,” she replies softly. “Whatever happened at the end, I will always remember him as a friend.” I give her a slight, grateful smile. Though the real story hasn’t been released, enough has been leaked so anyone with half a brain can figure out what happened. I’m with Bonnie though; I’d rather remember Leo as my friend over anything else. “So what brings you down from on high to mingle with the common folk, Mr. Young?”

I smirk at her. “What do you think?”

“I knew it would only be a matter of time before you declared your undying love for me,” she teases with a wink. “And I didn’t even need to lock you in my basement to convince you.”

Laughing, I lean against the register counter. “Sorry, Bonnie, there’s only one woman in the world who can lock me up in her basement to have her wicked way with me and tempting though you are, you are not her.”

Sighing dramatically, she takes her seat on the stool. “Well, I regret to inform you that your one and only has stepped out for lunch,” she says apologetically.

“Of course she has,” I mutter in disappointment. “How is she?”

“I’m not the one you should be asking, am I?” Bonnie replies rather sternly. “And what’s this bullshit I’m hearing that you haven’t seen your son?”

I let my eyes close. Of course Samantha is going to confide in the people around her. And Bonnie isn’t the type to just let something go when she thinks someone is hiding things from her. She’s much more likely to nag until she gets answers and figures out a way to make things better. “I’m an idiot,” I admit quietly. “And I’m working on making things right with Samantha and Tyler, but in the meantime, I need to keep my distance.”

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