Page 25 of Rescuing Mary

“I’d understand if you weren’t.”

Mary turned on her side and faced her best friend. “I’m more worried about what Truck will think. He hasn’t exactly been happy lately.”

“Really?”

“Really. After the thing at the bank, I thought things were fine between us, but they’re not.”

“He loves you, Mare.”

“I know. But I’m afraid he’s getting tired of waiting for me to reciprocate. What if he comes back and decides he’s done?”

“He won’t,” Rayne said, her voice full of conviction.

“I don’t think I’d survive if he left me,” Mary whispered.

Rayne propped herself up on an elbow. “I thought you guys talked. I saw you two at the bank. It didn’t look like he had any plans to leave.”

“We did. But…he doesn’t hold me at night anymore.” Mary was embarrassed to admit it. But this was Rayne. Her best friend in the world. If she couldn’t talk to her about what was going on with Truck, who could she talk to?

“What do you mean?”

Mary sighed. “He’s seen my naked chest. When I was sick, he’d pull me into his arms and hold me all night. Even when I felt like shit and told him to go away, he wouldn’t. When the radiation hurt so bad I couldn’t even stand having a tank top or sheet touching me, he’d wrap his arm around my belly, sleeping with his feet sticking off the end of the bed, just so he could be next to me. He never seemed to care that my chest was as flat as a kid’s. He always kissed me in the morning, on the forehead, and he’d constantly touch me. My arm. My hand. The small of my back. It used to drive me crazy…but now it’s like I have the plague. He’s right next to me, but he might as well be miles away.”

“Have you asked him about it?”

“No. How do I ask for something I always pretended I hated? I miss him, Raynie. I mean, of course I miss him now that he’s on this mission, but I missed him before that, and he was right next to me. I know he was happy I wasn’t hurt at the bank, but then I think he started having second thoughts when I didn’t immediately open up to him afterward. I’m afraid he’s trying to figure out how to tell me he’s setting me free. That he’s going to give up on me.”

Rayne sat up and threw the covers back. She padded across the small space between the beds and pushed Mary over. Without a word, she climbed under the covers and hugged Mary close. They lay like that, their arms around each other in the small twin-size bed, and Mary did her best to keep the tears from falling from her eyes.

After several minutes, Rayne said softly, “That man loves you, Mary. I’m one hundred percent sure of that. You have to open yourself up to him. Talk to him. Tell him everything you haven’t told me about your childhood, no matter how hard it is. Tell him what a bitch your mom was. Tell him about the uncles.”

“Then what?”

“Seduce him.”

Mary choked, and it took a couple of moments to compose herself. “Seriously? That’s your advice?”

“It worked for me and Ghost.”

“That’s different.”

“Not really.”

“I don’t exactly have the equipment to seduce him anymore, Rayne,” Mary said dryly, more than aware of her completely flat chest.

“He doesn’t give a shit that you don’t have boobs,” Rayne retorted.

“I do.”

“What does your surgeon say about reconstruction?”

Mary realized that because of the rift between her and Rayne, they hadn’t talked about this. “It’s possible. But it’ll take about a year and a half for the entire process. They have to do liposuction and insert fat cells from my thighs and belly into my chest to stretch the skin first. That’ll take several sessions and months. Then he’ll put in expanders, and I have to go in every week to have them filled. I’ll do that until I either get to the size I want, or the skin starts to deteriorate and the doctor says we need to stop. After several months, the expanders will have created a pocket the implants will fit into, and I can have that surgery.”

“And?”

Rayne knew her too well. “I hate the way I look right now. I can’t even look in the mirror. I can’t imagine exposing myself to Truck. I mean, he’s seen me, but I felt so awful at the time, I didn’t really care. I told you that first time I couldn’t stand to have anything against my skin when the radiation burns were so bad, but this is different. And the thought of getting fake boobs makes me feel like such a hypocrite. You know me. You know how I always made fun of women with implants.”

“This is different.”