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Bridget helped the women with the rest of the clearing up, but her gaze kept straying to Jonas. He looked utterly exhausted but he didn’t sit down, just kept standing or wandering around. Bridget was certain it wasn’t restlessness that drove him but a fear that to relax would bring sleep. She knew intuitively that Jonas was denying himself the luxury of rest.
The impulse was strong to seek him out again and persuade him to go and get the sleep he so obviously needed. She understood his bleak mood, but he would only feel worse if he took it out on her a second time. Maybe it was best to keep her distance.
When the picnic tables were cleared and the baskets returned to the cars, the women began to join the group of men. It was as if Jonas sensed the exact moment that Bridget started toward them. At her approach, he strolled with seemingly aimless intent away from them. Automatically, Bridget slowed her steps to see where he went, stopping when she saw him heading for the tree where Molly was sitting with Patty Chapman, scrolling through the song list on Patty’s iPod. Engrossed in their happy chatter, they didn’t see or hear his approach. He didn’t talk to the girls, but turned away once more.
Bridget suddenly thought of the name for his behavior and knew what she was seeing: he was in shock. All of her senses were attuned to him and she gravitated closer. Jonas stopped, his gaze slicing to where Bridget had stopped. A hard mask stole immediately over his rugged features, concealing the emotions that had shone through only moments ago. She had never seen him in such a state and had no idea what to do.
Stay with him, her heart whispered. That’s all you can do.
His troubled gaze swung to the picnic group and Bridget’s did likewise. No one seemed to have noticed them together or were even looking in their direction.
“Let’s walk,” Jonas suggested.
“Okay,” Bridget agreed. She, too, preferred that their conversation should be private without the risk of someone overhearing.
Jointly they turned and walked away from the others. Looking up from the iPod screen, Molly watched them go, her eyes round and innocent. A thin layer of fallen leaves carpeted the grass beneath their feet, making a soft rustling sound as they walked.
He inhaled deeply and the action seemed to accent the tired, strained lines etched around his mouth and eyes. Bridget felt nothing but compassion for him. As the seconds stretched, so did her nerves.
Finally Jonas said, “We need to talk,”
“Jonas, I know you just went through a traumatic experience, but …” Bridget hesitated. “Now might not be the best time to talk. Maybe later.”
“Later? Let me tell you something, Bridget. There isn’t always a later. That young couple—” He took a ragged breath and a tear streaked down his cheek. “The social worker who was filling out their paperwork casually told them they could try again. Like they hadn’t just lost their first baby. Like they didn’t need time to grieve. Like anything could be forgotten, so long as you wanted to forget it.”
“Oh, Jonas.” Her heart was breaking for him but she couldn’t tell him that. “You need to get home and lie down and—-and—give yourself time. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
“No. But seeing that young couple hold each other and cry like they did made me realize something.”
She willed herself to be calm. “Go on.”
He took a deep breath. “That … that love is real. They had each other. They didn’t let go, Bridget. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“No,” she whispered.
He reached out to her and took her gently by the shoulders. The touch of his hands made Bridget suddenly and very acutely conscious of him. Her skipping heart was blinding her to all the reasons she shouldn’t respond to him. She stood unresisting beneath his light hold.
“You’ve let me get a little closer, Bridget,” Jonas continued, his darkening gaze roaming over her upturned face, “I’m grateful for that. I’m not going to give up, you know. Not easily. I still want you and I still love you. Maybe some things have changed, but that hasn’t. There are some things you just can’t forget.”
His head bent to lightly claim her lips, seeking nothing more. He gently drew Bridget into the circle of his arms. All she wanted to do was lie with him for just one night in a room somewhere, comfort him as best she could, let the pain they both were feeling ebb away until the sun rose once more. If time could stand still, Bridget would have been content to let that night stretch for an eternity.
When he raised his head, the satisfying warmth of his kiss fled. Bridget felt chilled. The strangely emotional state they found themselves in would vanish when he came to his senses. She forced her mind to take over control from her heart.
“I think what happened at the hospital—” she broke off, uncertain of how to continue. “It really affected you. But—”
He breathed in deeply and let go of her. “Sorry. Am I coming on too strong? Getting too emotional? Someone told me that wasn’t a good idea.”
Who would say that to him? “You’re in shock, Jonas,” she blurted out. “You’re so tired you can’t think straight. I can’t respond to what you’re saying—it wouldn’t be right.”
He held her gaze for several more seconds before glancing at his watch. “Excuse me”—his tone was withdrawn and indifferent—“I have to be back at the hospital at four.”
