“Are you a head shrink?” He curled his lip in disgust.
“No. We have something in common though. We both have experienced the loss of someone we deeply loved.”
He turned his head away, staring at the door. “I don’t want to talk to you. Get out.”
She moved into his line of sight to peer into those amazing eyes of his. “How long has it been since you lost your mate?” She remembered the term New Species used.
He didn’t answer.
“I lost mine two years ago. Do you know what I hate the most? It’s when I sleep. I dream that he’s still with me, but then I always wake up and have to face the reality of his empty side of the bed.”
His lips compressed into a firm grimace. She waited to see if he’d say anything, but a good minute ticked by as they regarded each other.
“I’ll be visiting with Paul and Becky for a few days if you change your mind about speaking to me. I won’t push any harder, but it does help to talk to someone who understands the loss. I didn’t believe it at first when people told me that, but I was wrong. You’ve probably tried everything else so what do you have to lose?”
She turned away and took a few steps toward the door.
“You should avoid sleeping.”
The raw pain in his voice tugged at her heartstrings. She faced him. “I tried that but eventually exhaustion sets in.”
“I know.”
She hesitated. “Do you ever allow anyone near you besides when you’re starting a fistfight?”
“No.”
She approached his bed. He was a big guy, a stranger, but the haunted, pained look in his eyes was one she knew well. They were kindred spirits. “I’m going to hold your hand.”
Surprise widened his eyes. “Why?”
“Try it.”
Dana leaned against the bedrail and reached out to him. He felt really warm, as if he had a fever. She laced her fingers with his. He didn’t jerk away or try to avoid the contact. He also didn’t clasp hold of her, but instead just seemed to endure her touch.
“Physical contact is a part of healing. It reminds us we’re alive. We are, you know. Alive. Our lives didn’t end with theirs, even if we wish it at times. You need to allow yourself to feel more than just the pain, Mourn.” She squeezed his hand. “Let people help you. You only have things to gain by doing that.”
He closed his eyes. “Leave.”
Chapter Two
Dana stepped out onto the back porch and dug into her robe pocket. She pulled out the case and eased into one of the patio chairs. Her brother would have a fit if he caught her, but she’d waited until he and his wife had retired for the evening. Sleep never came easily for her.
She flipped open the case and withdrew the electronic device, inhaled slowly on the tube and blew out the vapor. The minty taste of a menthol cigarette wasn’t exactly the same as the real thing, but was close enough. She really wished for a bottle of vodka, but a quick search of the kitchen cupboards had revealed no alcohol in the house. A nice stiff drink would have been welcome after spending hours watching the loving couple interact. It only made her ache for all she’d lost.
A memory surfaced of Tommy standing in their kitchen, making spaghetti. It was the only thing he’d really known how to cook unless a grill was involved. He’d smiled at her and poured two glasses of wine, offering her one. “To us, my love.”
She took another drag on the electronic cigarette, that memory causing her pain. It had been the last anniversary they’d shared, right before the new tumor had been found. His blond hair had just grown in again after rounds of chemo, and they’d been sure he’d stay in remission. Two months later it had come back with a vengeance and he’d died within five months. She pushed away the image of him in his hospital bed, struggling to take his last breaths. It hurt too much.
The wind stirred and she glanced up at the tree branches next to the short wall that enclosed the small backyard. The moon hung high in the dark sky. She tucked her robe a little tighter over her lap, against the chilly air. Her bare feet rested on another chair. She lifted the e-cigarette to take another drag, but it never reached her lips. A large hand wrapped around hers, freezing it inches from her lips.
Dana glanced up, expecting to see her brother. It came as a shock when she stared into a pair of catlike blue eyes. Mourn still sported the bandage on his forehead, but he’d changed clothes. He wore a black, long-sleeved shirt and matching black cargo pants. Her heart rate slowed as she realized he’d come to talk to her after all.
“That’s bad for you.” His voice was as deep as she remembered.
“I know. I only picked up the habit after my husband died. He would have hated me smoking since he never did it, but I was kind of grief stricken. It’s an addictive habit. I stopped, but sometimes if I have a bad day, I’ll use one of these vapor things instead.”
He frowned.
She decided to change the subject. “Were you released, or did you break free?”
He pried the e-cigarette from her fingers and placed it on the table. “They’d have had to use chains if they expected me to spend the night at Medical.”
“Would you like to sit down?”
He glanced around. “No.”
“Is security going to come looking for you? We could go inside.” She stood. “My brother and his wife already went to bed. They won’t hear us as long as we talk quietly.”
“Not here.” His gaze searched the darkness beyond the yard. “Will you come with me?”