Full Circle (51 page)

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Authors: Donya Lynne

Tags: #workplace romance, #new adult, #psychological romance, #donya lynne, #strong karma, #mark strong

BOOK: Full Circle
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Suddenly, his behavior made sense. The
teasing, the bullying. He’d been lashing out at her out of
jealousy.

She hugged him harder, rocking him. “Oh,
Johnny, I’m so sorry. I never knew. Dad and I never meant to
exclude you.”

There were few things as tragic as a grown
man coming undone. Trying to maintain control in the face of such
raw anguish was nearly impossible.

“And now that he and I have finally starting
having a relationship, he’s in there”—he jerked his arm toward the
entrance—“maybe dying, maybe dead already, and I’ll never get to
know him. To really know him, Karma. Not the way you did.”

She directed him to a concrete bench and sat
down beside him. “Johnny, you can’t think that way. He’s going to
be fine. He’s going to make it. And when he does, he’s going to
need both of us. You and me. We’re still a family.” She pulled him
against her. “But no matter what happens, you’re still my brother,
okay? I love you, and we’ll get through this together.”

His green eyes met hers, and he wiped his
fingers over his face. “I’ve been such an awful brother. I’m sorry.
I was just jealous. You and Dad were so close, and I felt like I
was left out of everything.”

“I know. But the past is the past. We’re
going to be better now. We’re going to make a better future. You,
me,
and
Dad. We will.” She squeezed him. “You’ll see. Dad’s
going to make it, and we’re going to be fine. Next fall, all three
of us will get together every Sunday and watch football. And we’ll
go fishing together and do all the things we never got to do as
kids.”

He gave her a weak smile. “I can’t believe
you actually fish. You’re a girl. Girls don’t fish. Do they?”

The comment came out of nowhere, kind of like
a poorly timed punchline but in a poetically perfect way.

“Come with us next time, and I’ll show you
how it’s done, baby brother.”

His face pinched, and a second later, he
barked an abrupt laugh. “I don’t know why I said that. It
just . . . I don’t know . . . it just
came out.” He laughed again.

Unable to stop herself, she laughed with him.
The maniacal laughter of two people who had reached their monthly
limit of emotional insanity. This was the worst possible time to
laugh, given their dad was inside undergoing life-saving surgery
that may or may not be successful, and yet, in that precious moment
between brother and sister, laughing felt as normal as
breathing.

“Come on,” she said a few minutes later,
“Let’s go back inside. See if there’s any news about Dad.”

He agreed and, with a bit more hope in his
eyes, returned to the waiting room with her.

Unfortunately, there still wasn’t an
update.

So, she settled into the seat next to Lisa,
who took her hand and said, “He’s going to be okay.”

“I know.” She had to believe it, or she would
lose her mind.

The minutes dragged. Every time she checked
the clock on the wall, it felt like twenty minutes had passed when
only five had. Little by little, the hour crept toward eleven.

It had been over three hours since she’d
talked to Mark. Where was he?

Around ten after the hour, she closed her
eyes. She was physically drained. Totally exhausted. Emotionally
spent. Her only consolation was that if the doctors hadn’t come to
give them news, yet, that was a good sign. If Dad hadn’t made it,
the surgeon would have come in by now to tell them.

A few minutes later, still resting her eyes,
she felt the air stir. A familiar electrical charge pulsed around
her. A scent. Something recognizable.

She opened her eyes and sat up, glancing
around, trying to understand where the feeling was coming from. A
moment later, Mark appeared in the entrance to the waiting
room.

“Mark . . .” Practically
leaping out of her chair, she rushed toward him, crashing into his
body as his arms engulfed her.

Her rock. Her foundation. Her strength. He
was here.

He kissed her hair. “I’m sorry it took so
long. There was an accident outside Chicago.”

He was here now. That was all that
mattered.

“How is he?” he asked. “Is there any
news?”

She reluctantly pulled away, shaking her
head. “We’re still waiting.”

He directed her into a seat, never taking his
arms from around her. As soon as she was seated, she buried herself
against him again, unable to get close enough. He was so warm, so
strong.

She latched onto him as if she would never
let him go, and he tucked her face against his chest, holding her
securely, making her feel safe. Protected.

He was her strength. She was his purpose.

She so totally got what that meant now.

Lisa finally took her leave, telling Karma to
make sure she called as soon as she heard something, and for the
next hour, she, Johnny, Estelle, Mark, and her mom sat in silence,
simply waiting for word.

Another hour passed.

She could tell Mark wanted to talk to her. She could
feel it. There was a subdued tension about him. Almost as if a hum
of energy coursed in invisible waves around his body, encapsulating
her, invading her, seeping into her soul. Maybe that was why she’d
felt him before she saw him.

Whatever had happened in Chicago had changed
him. He was different. He felt different. Not just physically, but
emotionally. It was like he’d undergone a shift. He’d been off
kilter before, his body not in perfect alignment with his spirit.
Now, he felt perfectly calibrated, positioned one on top of the
other. This was a new Mark. A changed Mark.

She was about to comment on it when the
surgeon, still donning scrubs, entered the room.

In the flurry of activity that followed as
everyone perked to attention and asked for news, Karma heard only
two words. “He’s stable.”

Thank God!

Her dad was stable. He’d survived the heart
attack, the surgery, and was now in recovery.

She breathed for what felt like the first
time all night.

He was going to make it.

Her dad was going to make it.

Chapter 37

Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed
memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot
forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our
past in a hope for our future.

-Lewis B. Smedes

At almost three in the morning, she and Mark arrived
home. The doctors had assured everyone her dad was doing well after
surgery and that they would notify them immediately if anything
changed. He was going to be sleeping for a while, so the best thing
they could do was try and get some rest. Mom had stayed at the
hospital, though.

“I’ll draw you a bath,” Mark said, trailing
barely a step behind her on the stairs. He hadn’t stopped holding
her hand since they left the hospital, not even in the car during
the drive home.

She was exhausted, but a bath sounded good.
She caught his eye over her shoulder. “I’d like that.”

They turned the corner and entered their
bedroom.

As he disappeared in the bathroom and started
her bath, she went to the closet and changed out of her clothes,
pulling her pink and cream robe around her.

The scent of lavender greeted her as she
stepped into the bathroom. Mark hadn’t just started her a bath, but
a bubble bath. And the foam covering the water’s surface was as
thick as insulation. Talk about an indulgence.

He caressed her fingers without taking hold
of her hand. “I’ll go make you some chamomile tea.”

Before she could form a coherent response, he
slipped out of the bathroom.

She wasn’t sure what to make of this new
Mark. He didn’t appear to be afraid anymore. She couldn’t pinpoint
exactly what it was that made her think that, but it
was . . . something. His energy, maybe. The crisp,
clear focus of his eyes. The way he held his shoulders, taller,
prouder, more self-assured. As if he had a purpose and was
transforming back into the Mark who had sat down beside her at the
blackjack table two years ago, brimming with confidence. Only this
time, it wasn’t a façade.

She eased into the large, oval Jacuzzi tub
and sank into the foamy water with a sigh, closing her eyes as she
leaned her head back on the rim. The water was the perfect
temperature. Hot, but not scalding. Warmth seeped deep into her
muscles.

Mark returned a few minutes later, and she
dragged her eyelids open as he set her cup of tea on the tub’s
deck.

“Mind if I join you?” His expression wasn’t
sexual or suggestive. He simply looked as though he didn’t like
being so far away from her, even if it was only a few feet.

“No, I don’t mind.” She didn’t like being so
far away from him, either.

He undressed, tossed his clothes in the
hamper around the corner from the vanity, then slipped in behind
her as she scooted forward.

The water sloshed and burbled around them as
they got situated, and then his arms enveloped her. She relaxed
into the cradle of his body.

“Are you doing okay?” He rested the side of
his head against hers.

“I’m better now.”

He was her haven. Her safe place.

“It sounds like your dad’s going to be
okay.”

She nodded. “I was so scared I was going to
lose him.” Strangely, her words held double meaning. Not only had
she been scared she was going to lose her dad, but Mark, too. She’d
almost lost the two most important men in her life in one day.

His arms coiled more securely around her.
“You won’t lose him.”

Did his words hold double meaning, too?

For a while, they remained silent, holding
each other, breathing together, finding their way back to one
another.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved last week,” he
said softly. “It wasn’t you. None of it was you.”

The corners of her mouth lifted, but she
didn’t say anything. Just nestled more firmly against him.

He caressed her arm under the water. “When I
saw Carol and Antonio last weekend, it threw me. I wasn’t expecting
to see them there. They weren’t on the attendee list.” His scruffy
cheek rubbed against hers. “What I did to you
after . . .”

“Mark, it’s okay. I’m not mad, anymore.”

“No, I need to say this, Karma.” His embrace
strengthened. “The way I was with you . . . the way
we had sex . . . that never should have happened. I
wanted to make love to you, not fuck you. Not use you.” He shook
his head. “I never want to use you.”

“Sometimes you just need that release,” she
said. “And I’m okay with that.”

“Well, I’m not.” He brushed his lips against
her temple. “You’re too precious to be treated like that. And you
are not a conduit to connect me to my past. Okay? At no time during
having sex with you did I ever see Carol instead of you. I never
once imagined that you were her. I knew exactly who I was having
sex with, which was why I reacted so badly. I hated myself for
letting that happen. For letting myself take without giving. That’s
why I got sick. That’s why I couldn’t sleep. That’s why I couldn’t
look you in the eye. Because I was ashamed. And then I was afraid I
was going to lose you, which just made me feel even guiltier, and
then I spiraled out of control.” He squeezed her. “I’m sorry for
hurting you. I’m sorry for making you think you were just a
connection to Carol and that I wanted her, not you. Because I don’t
want her, Karma. From the moment we met, you became the only woman
I could ever want for the rest of my life, and I hate that my
actions upset you.”

Mark was nothing if not an eloquent
apologizer.

She rolled her head on his chest, angling her
face toward his. “And I’m sorry for blowing up at you the way I
did. I hadn’t been sleeping, and all the insecurity from my past
came back, and the combination sent me off the deep end. Lisa
helped give me some much-needed perspective, and then when my
dad . . .” She closed her eyes as the image of her
dad clutching his chest on the kitchen floor slammed into her
mind.

“Ssshhh.” He rocked her.

But just as he’d needed to get all of his
apology out, so did she. “Thinking he might die made me realize
what was really important, Mark.” She lifted her head and looked at
him. “After praying he would be okay, all I could think about was
you. I just wanted you. You’re my rock.”

“And you’re mine.” He gently kissed her.

Then she settled against him once more,
letting the warm water and lavender bubbles seep into her skin, her
mind flickering over the events of the past two days. Mark had left
for Chicago on Friday as one man and had returned home as
another.

“You’re different,” she said.

“Different?”

She turned her head so they were looking at
each other again. “Yes.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. It just feels like something’s
changed.”

His expression softened into one of pure
love. “Something
has
changed.”

* * *

Her delicate eyebrows twisted in confusion. “What do
you mean?”

He glanced down at the layer of bubbles and
shifted beneath the water so his legs wrapped around the top of
hers as if he were shackling her. Then he met her gaze again.

By now, she had to know why he’d gone to
Chicago. She was too smart not to. Even so, he needed to tell
her.

“I went to see Carol.”

As expected, she didn’t seem surprised.

“And . . . ?”

“I gave her the rings and the necklace. I
don’t want them, anymore. I don’t
need
them. I have
everything I need right here. And I won’t let anything take you
away from me, not even my own fears.”

The jewelry had been like a talisman, holding
him in the past, influencing him through fear, its presence a
constant force working against him. No more. By ridding himself of
the rings and necklace, he’d rid himself of what they symbolized.
Failure, fear, and heartache.

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