No Strings Attached Ch. 18

Alicia was putting Hope to bed when Jon got out of the shower. Alison had insisted on closing the diner most nights. While Jon appreciated the extra time it gave him with his family, he felt guilty; like he was forcing the woman from the only home she had known for years.

Jon sat at the end of the bed they shared. He wore only the towel wrapped about his waist as he rehearsed what he would say for the hundredth time that day. He wanted to get this right. A man only proposed once. That other one did not count. Somehow he had known even then his marriage would not last. This one would. It had to.

He sighed, but he had left this one too late. He had done everything all wrong. You fell in love, then proposed, got married, and had children. He still had not figured out what order he had done it all in. But there was no denying that the proposal and marriage were coming last. And he was running out of time there, too. The doctors were pushing for the surgery as quickly as possible.

"Okay, so what's bothering you?"

Jon had been so caught up in his thoughts that he had not even noticed her standing in the doorway. She frowned as she closed that door behind her and came to sit next to him on the bed. Her hand reached out, taking his mangled one.

The doctors were right. The damage to the nerves and circulation in that hand and arm meant that the sensation in it was never quite right. But now, if he were not watching her clutch it, he probably would not have known he touched him at all.

"The doctors want to amputate it." That was not how he had planned to begin this conversation.

"Yes, we've talked about that before."

He shook his head, "No, I mean now. Well, not now. Not right this minute. But soon."

She inhaled deeply, "How soon?"

"They haven't given me a date exactly. But as soon as they can arrange it. In the next couple of weeks, for sure."

"I thought it took months for those sorts of things with the VA?" He watched the light dawn in her expressive dark eyes, "Oh, it's that bad?"

He sighed as he turned to wrap his good arm about her, "It is not life-threatening," at least not yet, he left unsaid. "But I have lost all sensation in it, and they say the circulation is just as bad. There's no hope now of it improving." That was harder to admit than he had thought.

She nodded as she studied the old brown shag carpet that he had come to love as a symbol of home. His home - with them. "Okay, so we knew this might happen, right? We just need to prepare Hope for it. How long will you be in the hospital? Will she be able to visit you there? Will you need to stay at the rehab center for long the way that Chris did?"

Her question came at him so fast that his head hurt. He had been so focused on the proposal and arranging a quickie wedding that he had not considered how they would handle their daughter. He did not even have answers to half her questions.

"If things go well, I shouldn't need to be in the hospital for more than a week or so. Not since I live locally now and can go back easily in an emergency. I think it is the same with the rehab, though I'll need to check. But it seems it would be cheaper for them if it could be handled outpatient. And you know how the VA is about anything that saves money?"

"As for Hope visiting, I think so. I mean, other guys always had their families and kids visiting. So, it shouldn't be a problem. Only during certain times, though, of course." He sighed, "As for how to tell her, I don't have any idea. I was hoping you would."

She nodded and smiled, though he could tell it was forced. "The truth works best. Or so I've discovered." She blushed, "Well, most of the time."

It was his opening. To bring up the idea of marriage. Well, to propose. Alicia had been the one to bring up the idea of marriage, all those weeks ago. Reaching behind him under the pillow where he had hidden the small black box, "Speaking of which..."

He was going to do this right. He dropped to one knee in front of her as he fumbled with his one good hand to open the damned box. Yes, it was time, past time for this surgery. He finally managed to snap the lid open, "Alicia Marie Flores, would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Jon watched the tears gather in her eyes as she reached out tentatively for the box. But they were not the tears of joy he had hoped to see there. Her hand trembled as she took the box from him and closed the lid. His heart stopped as his Hope died.

***

Alicia had dreamt of this moment. He had been right. Since she was a little girl, Alicia had wanted nothing more than a happy marriage and children. If she had gone about it in a roundabout way, nothing had changed that dream. Not since the moment she looked into those eyes and saw her past and future rolled into one.

But not like this. It was all wrong. Sure, she had been the one to casually toss out marriage as the most natural solution to their complicated situation. But over the weeks since that night in the desert, she had come to hope and believe they could have so much more than mere convenience and great sex.

Love.

She had hoped and, at moments, thought they were getting to it. That 'playing house' was more than just the easy path for their child's sake. But this was something else; she saw that in those eyes that had always held her heart since that first gaze across the table. She had felt his pain then. And she did now.

She closed the lid of the box. Though she could not bring herself to hand it back to him or answer his question. At least not yet. "The truth, Jon. I want the truth. What is this all about? Why now? And just how dangerous is this surgery?"

She watched his shoulders slump as he exhaled deeply. He rose from the floor and came to sit beside her on the bed once more. He stared at that ugly brown carpet; she really did need to replace it.

When he spoke, she heard the slight tremble in his voice. He still would not look her in the eyes, "It is as routine as these things go. I swear it, Alicia."

"But?" She had to know the truth, all of it.

"But life is never routine. It is not that simple. Nor that sure and safe."

She heard the pain behind those words. She knew that he spoke of so much more than this situation, or even his wife's death. Though he often tossed and turned, mumbling in his sleep, he had never spoken about it. Whatever it was that changed his life over there.

When she asked Chris, he had dismissed her concerns, saying that Jon would tell her in his own time, or not. That sometimes, some things were best left in the past. But that was not good enough for her.

But hearing the depths of that pain now made her want to take this man, this hero, into her arms and body; to offer what respite and solace she could from those unspoken burdens. She resisted that urge, knowing that if she did, she might never get the answers she needed.

The silence stretched between them like the gulf that was growing rather than shrinking as she had hoped. She resisted the urge to fill it with words, with more questions.

Just when she feared that they had reached an impasse, he looked up. His gaze held hers, pleading for understanding as much as his words did.

"I know I did this all wrong. I'm sorry about that, too. You deserve so much more than I can ever offer."

He paused and looked down. Her eyes followed his to the mangled hand that was the issue of the moment. Her heart quickened, and she fought the urge to give in, to offer him the assurance he needed as silence once more echoed off the walls of their bedroom.

When he looked back up, she would have sworn those eyes glistened with tears. She could almost hear them in his voice as he spoke, "Please. Please, I know this is not how you dreamt of this moment, what you wanted. I'm not..."

He stopped and stared at that disgusting brown carpet again. His pain was hers. And just when Alicia was sure that she could not take anymore, that she would succumb to his pleas, spoken and unspoken, he lifted his face.

"The truth is that I need to know that if something did go wrong, you and our little girl would be taken care of."

Alicia wanted to scream and argue. She had managed for seven years on her own as a single parent, what made him think that she could not again?

But the pain in his voice kept her from speaking and his hand covering hers as they clutched that tiny black box spoke louder than his words.

"Please, Alicia. I might not have much to offer you or our little girl, but let me do this. Let me give you my name. I need to know that if the worst happened, then you and Hope would have the assurance of my pension and insurance."

He sighed and chuckled in a tight sort of way that made her curious, "Besides, if worst came to worst, I'd sure as hell rather have you calling the shots than my mother."

He gave her a tight smile as he squeezed her hands around the hard velvet box, "Please understand."

How could she not? How could she not succumb in the end to the pain that rolled off this man as profoundly as it had that night?

But she could not bring herself to say the words. To give her consent to something that was so much less than her Hopes and dreams. So she merely nodded and forced a tight smile as she felt tears gathering in her eyes.

He beamed at her, nonetheless. She did not hear much of anything else he said as she turned her head and allowed the tears to course down her cheeks. Washing away those Hopes and dreams. Even if what he said made sense, it was not enough. Not enough for her broken heart anyway.