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“From where I’m sitting, it looks like it got you one hell of a woman who will always stand up for those without a voice and make sure they’re heard. That’s my take on it, but I’m not part of this relationship. I will say this, and take it from someone who has had to—and still does—keep a lot of secrets that he’s not allowed to tell. It sucks. You have to put those things in a little box and set them aside if you want to live a normal life. That’s what Hazel was doing. She was trying to live a normal life when her entire world had been upended. About two weeks ago, she told me something that shifted how I thought about life.”
“What was that?” I asked, wishing I didn’t want to know but still wanting to know.
“Hazel told me that we can live our lives because of our circumstances, or we can live the life we want in spite of our circumstances. She said the difference is we get to decide if our circumstances define us and that’s why we live the way we do or if we’re letting our circumstances hold us back. I decided my circumstances define me, and I will live the life I want to live because of them.”
“This conversation is confusing the hell out of me, Dawson,” I admitted.
“It did for me at first, too, until I sat down and thought about it. My disabilities define me, but not in a bad way. I gave up a lot to protect this country, including physical parts of me. Now that I’m back, I will use those experiences to help others. I’ll make it my mission to be part of the change that this building will make in Bells Pass and the changes we can make across the government of Michigan. The way I see it, someone has to, so why not me?”
“You’re saying that’s all Hazel was doing?”
Dawson stood and tipped his head to the side in agreement. “That’s the way I see it. She didn’t want her circumstances to define her, so she lived in spite of them.” He walked to the door and pushed the button for it to open. “Think about it, but don’t think too long, or you just might be living with circumstances of your own making.”
∞∞∞
Audrey stood and moved the chair away, leaving room for mine. Once I had rolled to the bed, she patted my shoulder and smiled, giving me a nod that said I was doing the right thing. As she and Ivy left the apartment, and I gazed down at the woman I still loved with all my heart, I knew Dawson was right. If I didn’t talk to Hazel, I would live with a broken heart forever without knowing why. I deserved to hear from her lips as to why she didn’t trust me with the truth.
My gaze traveled over her, and my heart squeezed tightly. Her face was swollen and bruised, her lip was cracked, and her tongue came out every so often to wet it in her sleep, which told me it still hurt. Her left hand was in a special splint that kept her fingers separated and the last two had apparatus attached to hold the bones in place. Why wasn’t she in the hospital? She had to be in excruciating pain from her hand alone.
Ivy told me Hazel had been sleeping for several hours, but they didn’t want to leave her alone after seeing her condition. That was fair. She was in no shape to do anything but sleep, much less pack an apartment or get behind the wheel. The things Gabe told me kept floating through my mind as I stared at her and it tore my heart and soul in half. On the one hand, I was so damn proud of her; on the other, I was mad at her.
The gasp was quiet, but I heard it before I noticed her eyes were open. “Go back to sleep,” I whispered, smoothing my hand down her hip. “Sleep is good.”
“You’re here,” she whispered, but it was a bit muddled from the swelling of her face. “I’m so happy to see you,” she whispered, tears running down her cheeks and over her cracked lip. “Are you okay? Ivy said you had an AD episode. I was so worried.”
“I’m okay,” I said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “They got me to the hospital quickly and reversed it.”
“Thank God,” she said, sobbing softly into the pillow.
I wasn’t sure she was fully awake yet, but she was in real distress that couldn’t be faked. “Sweetheart, take a deep breath.” I squeezed her right hand in mine, brushing the hair back off her forehead before wiping away some of the tears. “I’m sitting right here, and I’m fine. Just take some deep breaths.”
“I’m a terrible pa—person,” she said, hiccupping on the word. “I never should have put you in danger. I didn’t believe there was any danger and disregarded Cliff’s concerns so I could stay here with you! I’m so sorry, Irving.”
Hot tears rolled from her eyes, and I could only imagine they were tears of regret. I transferred onto her bed and pulled her up into a hug, wrapping my arms around her as tightly as I could to help calm her. No rule said you couldn’t offer someone empathy and comfort even when you were mad at them, right?
Hazel wrapped her good arm around me and held me, her face buried in my shoulder as she struggled to get her emotions under control. Part of me registered that she had positioned herself at the exact right angle to support me on the bed so I didn’t fall to the side. The same part of me that registered that, tried to convince the other parts of me to give her a chance.
Once her sobs had turned to hiccups, and her breathing evened out, I loosened my grip on her. “I need to get back in the chair, but I’m not leaving, okay?” Her nod against my shoulder and the tightening of her arm told me she understood but didn’t want to let me go.
“Let me help you,” she said, lifting her cheek to face me, but I shook my head.
“I don’t need help. Just be careful with that hand.” I transferred back to my chair and positioned my legs on the footplate.
“What time is it?” she asked, resting on the pillows she’d made into a reclining ramp.
“It’s almost seven.”
“At night?” she asked.
I couldn’t help it and had to laugh. “Yes, at night. Audrey said you hadn’t slept in days.”
“I couldn’t,” she said, that lip trembling again. “You wouldn’t talk to me, and every time I laid down, all I could think was what an awful person I was for doing what I did. I was worried you were alone and hurt over there. Not only did I put you in danger physically, but I lied to you and broke your trust.”
“Is that hindsight, or did you consider those things when we got involved?”
“Not hindsight,” she said, staring at the splint on her hand. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but Cliff said I couldn’t.”
“Who’s Cliff?”
