The Choice (12 page)

As I watch him step from the shower, my heart shatters.

You’
re going to lose him anyway, Sophie.             

Stifling my sobs, I finish rinsing quickly and shut off the water, wrapping myself in a towel
. When I make my way out, I find him sitting on the edge of our bed with his head in his hands. He’s already partially dressed, wearing a pair of worn jeans and socks with a white t-shirt lying across his leg.

“Chase,” I whisper as I sit next to him on the bed.

“Please don’t Sophie,” he whispers. I can hear the pain in his voice. “Just… I don’t want to fight with you over this. I already feel shitty enough. Can we just drop it?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I start
, but he shakes his head.

“Well, you’re doing a real bang up job of showing it, Baby,” he says softly as he rises from the bed, pulling his shirt over his head.

“I’m sorry,” I choke out.

“I know I’m not perfect, Sophie, but I love you so fucking much,” he says as he turns to face me
, the pain there killing my heart. “Nobody will
ever
love anyone more than I love you.”

“I know, Baby.
I love you, too,” I whisper. He doesn’t understand. How could he think that he’s the problem? “It’s not you, Chase…” I start, but he cuts me off.

“It has to be me, Sophie.
”

“Why would you ever think that?”

“Because I’m the one who keeps getting shot down!” he shouts back at me. Taking a few steps toward me, he looks down at me and the hurt in his eyes twists the knife in my heart.

“Chase,” I start. “I’m not trying to…”

“How many times did he ask you?” his sudden response has my blood running cold.

“What?”

“Jack,” he says. “How many times did he ask you to marry him, Sophie?”

My heart drops.

This is it. This is where I lose him
.

“Chase…” I sob.

“Just answer me,” he says louder.

“T
hat’s not fair,” I start. “This isn’t the same, Chase.”

“I know! I know, okay! Jack was perfect! He was a fucking hero an
d he saved you! I get it!” Chase shouts through his pain. “What about me? I love you so much it fucking hurts, Sophie. Do you even know that you still cry for him in your sleep?” Shocked, I shake my head slowly, feeling worse than I ever have before. “Yes, Sophie and it kills me. It kills me knowing that no matter how entirely you have me, no matter how many nights I hold you while you cry for him in
our bed
, there’s this huge part of you will never be mine.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I manage weakly.

“Does it matter, Baby?”

“Chase…”

“I never told you because I never wanted to see that look on your face, Sophie. Because I love you so fucking much that I would do anything for you.
Anything
,” he says. “No matter how badly it hurts me.”

“Chase, I’m so sorry,” I start
, but he cuts me off. “I didn’t…”

“I don’
t want you to apologize, Sophie. I just want you to see me,” he says low. “I’m sorry he died, Baby. If I could swallow your pain, I would do it in a second just so you never had to feel it again. I’m sorry he’s gone, but I’m not, Sophie. I’m here. I’m here living in his shadow. Knowing that no matter how tightly I hold you, no matter how much I love you, I’m never going to be enough,” he chokes out. “I’ll never live up to Jack.”

“No Chase,” I shake my head weakly. I have to tell him he’s wrong, but
the words get stuck in my chest.

“Do you have any idea how th
at feels, Sophie?” he ignores me. “Do you understand what it’s like to know that you love someone with everything you have, with every single piece of your fucking soul and still know it’s not enough?” His eyes finally meet mine and are filled with tears. “No, Sophie, because I would never make you feel that way.
Never
!”

“Chase,” I manage. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Because I’m fucking heartbroken!” he yells back. “Every time you shoot me down, you’re killing me, Sophie! I can’t keep walking around with this pit in my stomach, Baby!” 

Shaking my head in disagreement, I attempt to speak again, but my body is still racking with sobs.

“I’ve never said no,” I
eventually manage, but he shakes his head, his tears flowing freely now, too.

“You’v
e never said yes, either, Princess,” he whispers, closing the distance between us and pushing his hand through my hair, resting his palm on my cheek. “Look at me, Sophie,” he forces out. I try to raise my head, but I’m crying too hard. “Please look at me, Baby,” he says softly and lifts my gaze to his. “I know you love me,” nodding furiously, I sob louder and he pulls me closer to his chest. “Then why, Sophie? Please, just tell me why.”

I sit on the bed behind me and he kneels between my legs, holding me at the waist as he waits for my answer.

You may as well tell him, you’re about to lose him anyway
.

“Do you not l
ove me as much as you loved him, Sophie? Is that it?”

“No,” I say immediately. “Chase
, that’s not it. I promise, it’s not you!”

“Then what is it?” Once I don’t answer for several minutes, he stands
before rubbing his palms over his eyes and looking down at me. “I have to walk away, Sophie.”

“What?”
I say, panic setting in. “What do you mean you have to walk away?”

“I can’t do this,” he shakes his head and walks toward the kitchen to grab his keys
while I follow. Turning to face me, I see the raw emotion he’s been holding back. “Sophie, I’m sorry. I love you so much, but I can’t do this.”

“
Are you leaving me?”

“I promised you I’d never leave you, Sophie and I meant that,” he whispers, catching my eyes. “But if you don’
t want me, you have to tell me.”

“I do want you, Chase,” I say softly, making my way over to him. Looking up at his eyes, I see the moisture building there and it shatters me.

“Six,” he whispers. Seeing the confusion in my eyes, he pushes the hair away from my face again. “That’s how many times I’ve asked you, Sophie.” Shrinking into myself, I shudder. “Now answer my question, Baby. How many times did Jack ask you?”

Closing my eyes, my throat is thick with the emotion stuck there.

“Once,” I mouth. It’s all I can manage.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he whispers, looking down at me.

“Chase,” I try, but I’m too late.

“I have to go,” he whispers and shuts the door behind him.

Walking back into the house two hours later, I’m surprised to find it dark inside. Sophie turned the porch light on for me, but everything inside is off with the exception of the light on the hood above the stove. If her truck hadn’t been parked in the garage, I’d think she wasn’t home.

“Sophie?” I call through the house
, but receive no answer.

C
hecking our bedroom when I find the front part of the house empty, I still find no sign of her. I walk back toward JT’s room and as I’m about to enter the hallway, I see movement on the back porch.

Quietly pushing the door open, I fi
nd her huddled in one of the chairs. Her small frame is being swallowed in one of my sweatshirts and a blanket as she stares out into the backyard silently.

“Sophie?” I say again, softer this time. The drive I’d taken ha
s helped me clear my head. I know what I said earlier had hurt her. Although I meant what I’d said, hurting her is never something I want. Sitting down on the foot of the chair, I take in her exhausted, heartbroken expression. I’m about to speak, to tell her I’m sorry for being so harsh with her, but she cuts me off. “Babe, I…”

“The Kiss of Judas,” she whispers.

“What?”

“The Kiss of Judas,” she repeats. “Have you ever heard of it?”

“No,” I say softly, resting my hand on her thigh affectionately. My touch causes her to shut her eyes momentarily before she opens them. I see the tear there before she swipes it away.

“My family is all very religious. Especially my mother,” she starts
shakily. “When I was a little girl, I was always closer to my Dad and it made her crazy. He was religious, too, but he never forced anything on anyone. My mom is different though. She’s always had a very “fire and brimstone” approach to her faith and insisted when I was growing up that I follow her path without exception.”

I nod my understanding. I’m not sure where this is going, but I having a f
eeling it’s important so I settle in, trying to wait patiently. She’s still staring out in front of her, lost in a painful memory and the despondent, resigned look in her eyes is heartbreaking.

“W
hen I was young, my parents both told me lots of Bible stories and also passed on their beliefs to me. My dad was more on board with me choosing my own path. I got my love for music from him playing songs for me on his guitar. My mom didn’t agree, though. She was so afraid that I’d choose
any
path that deviated from hers that she would monitor
everything
I did. Once when I was about fourteen, my dad played me a Beatles record and when she found out, she went ballistic and shattered it,” she says, shaking her head. “She made his life miserable for months over it. After that, I was afraid to ever ask him to play anything for me again, but I never forgot how I felt the day I heard it,” she gives the memory a small smile. 

Sophie’s never talked to me much about her father or her childhood, so I’m locked on her now.

“When my dad was sick, I slept in the hospital with him there at the end. My mom hated it. It was the first time I’d ever blatantly defied her, but nothing would have kept me from that room,” her soft, pain filled voice wavers and I squeeze her leg reassuringly. “One night, I had my cousin sneak me up a copy of the Beatles CD and when my mom left, I played it for him. He was so sick then that he couldn’t really talk much anymore, but for the first time in weeks, his eyes lit up. I sang to him, the whole CD beginning to end. When the last song ended, he squeezed my hand, mouthed that he loved me and I kissed him goodnight before he fell asleep for the last time.”

“Oh Sophie,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say as I wipe the tears from her eyes.

“The next morning, when my mom got there, I was still sleeping. I didn’t know yet that he’d passed in the night. I had the CD player lying next to me on the cot the nurses had brought me in,” she went on. “While I slept, it must have fallen off the side of my bed and my mom saw it. I woke up to her telling me it was my fault. She never even really told me he was gone, Chase. I just had to figure it out while she was screaming at me over his body. She said I brought the devil into his heart and tainted his soul before he died. She demanded I tell her what I did with the CD so I told her everything. I told her that I’d snuck it in, played it for him, sang to him and kissed him goodnight,” Sophie says as her eyes continue to tear. “She said if I’d kept away from him, he could have left the world in peace. She said she knew music and his love for me were his weaknesses, but her prayers could have been his salvation if I hadn’t tainted his soul with impure things by going against her. She told me that my defiance would likely leave him to beg for forgiveness during his judgment and I should be ashamed of myself and what I’d done.”

Speechless at the story, I just shake my head and wait for her to finish.

“She didn’t speak to me for a couple days after we left the hospital. The morning of his funeral, though, she knocked on my door and walked inside to see if I was ready. She told me to sit down next to her on the bed and she touched my face. I thought she’d come to apologize,” she says, shaking her head. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. She looked at me and said, ‘Do you remember when you were little, I used to share Bible stories with you before bedtime?’ I told her I did and she squeezed my hand and told me she wanted to tell me one before Daddy’s funeral. The story she told me was from the Synoptic Gospels about how Jesus was identified to the soldiers when Judas gave him a kiss. She said that I had given my father a Judas kiss by bringing sin into his heart,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “The last thing my mother told me before my father’s funeral was ‘I had so many big plans for you when you were born, Sophia. I’m sorry I couldn’t raise you to be the kind of woman God intended you to be. Lord knows I tried, but you’ve got the Kiss of Judas in you, girl,’” she chokes out. “She told me that anyone who ever trusted me with their heart like Daddy did would have to smarten up and leave me to save their soul or suffer the same fate as he had.”   

“Baby,” I start
, tightening my grip on her as my heart swells. “You have to know that’s not true.”

“I thought so,” she manages
, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Even when she sent me away less than six months later claiming she needed to save herself, I thought it still may not be true. Surely she was the crazy one, right? The only person I ever gave my whole heart to after that was Jack and look where it got him. The second I felt like I could give my heart to you all hell broke loose. I almost lost you, too.”

“Sophie,” I try to interrupt her
, but she’s already shaking her head, fully facing me for the first time.

“Chase, I know it’s crazy. I know
now that it’s not my fault that my dad died or that my mom went crazy. I know I couldn’t have stopped Jack from being killed in Afghanistan and I’m nearly convinced that I had little to do with your accident.”

“Sophie, no part of that was your fault,” I interrupt her.

“Please let me finish,” she says softly and I nod. “I know it’s crazy, but that’s what’s been holding me back. I was so sure it was crazy before, but it happened to Jack anyway. Then,” she says, her voice cracking. “It almost happened to you.”

Sitting up
straighter, Sophie pulls my hand into hers and searches my eyes.

“Do you remember the day you came to the apartment after you heard me talking in my sleep?
Do you remember what I told you I was afraid of?”

“Yes,” I admit quietly. It was the day I knew I would do anything for her. 

“I knew the second I saw you that you had the power to destroy me,” she whispers. “That hasn’t changed. I know you think that I’m hesitant because you think I don’t love you as much as I loved Jack, but that’s just not true at all,” she says, shaking her head as her eyes well up again. “I’m terrified because I love you more. I lived through everything that happened with my parents, I just barely managed to endure losing Jack,” she says low, holding my eyes as another weak sob breaks through her lips. “But I’ve known from the second I saw you that I’d never survive losing you, Chase. It would kill me.”

“Come here, Baby,” I whisper, pulling her into my lap and repositioning our bodies onto the chair.

“There’s nothing I want more than to marry you, but I won’t do it until I can get this doubt out of my heart. You deserve better than that,” she says into my chest. “One day, I will work through my crazy and when I do, I promise you I’ll say yes, Chase,” she says straddling my lap and looking into eyes. “If you still want me, I’ll marry you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“I’m not going anywhere
,” I whisper, stunned by both her story and her admission.

“You say that now, but I don’t know how long it will take. You may not want me
anymore by the time I work through all this crap,” she sobs into my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her as tight as I think she can bear, kissing the side of her tearstained face.

“I’ll always want you, Baby.”

“Please don’
t give up on us,” she begs. “I know I suck at showing it sometimes, but I love you so much that it hurts my heart. The thought that I can’t give you what you want is killing me, Chase. This is tearing me to pieces. If you can’t see that, then you’ve never known me at all and this has all been for nothing,” she whispers, shaking her head and wiping the tears from her eyes. “I just can’t bear the thought of that. Not with you.”

Pressing my lips to hers, I give her a soft, chaste kiss before she rests against my chest. Pulling the blanket over us, I rub slow circles over the small of her back and hold her.

“I love you so much,” she whispers.

“I love you, too, Baby
.”

After a few moments of silence between us, I feel her starting to relax against me.

“Chase?” she says quietly.

“What Sweetheart
?”

“Will you sing to me?”

“Always,” I say into her hair, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “What do you want to hear?”

“I don’t care what it is,” she whispers in a broken voice. “Just please don’t let me go.”

“I won’t ever let you go.”

Holding her tightly,
I begin singing ‘Everlong’ by Foo Fighters quietly into her hair. It’s a song that never ceases to make me think of her, of us. Squeezing me tighter, she shudders into my chest, new tears racking though her. I keep my grip tight on her, singing to her even hours after she’s long been asleep, knowing I couldn’t let go if I wanted to.

I’ll wait for her crazy for
forever.  

***