Finding Love in France

Part 18: Regret

Watching him walk out the door in disbelief, she broke down.

He thought he heard her crying, but was so upset that he kept walking until he was in the barn. He was trying not to scream from anger. He needed a project to help take his mind off her. He was always good at fixing things. He had seen the old radio in the corner the first time she showed him the barn. But he couldn't stop thinking about her. Did he just blow it? How did a nice breakfast and flowers turn into her accusing him of being a jerk? He was so confused. What did she want from him? Girls he'd gone with before actually liked getting flowers. Did it remind her of something bad? Was his cooking that awful? It was always passable enough for him and Steve. Was it something he said? Was she onto something? Was he a creep for watching her sleep? Damn it, he was so confused and hurt and desperate not to make things worse. He started puttering with the radio and tried not to screw anything else up that morning.

She had climbed into the empty bathtub and sobbed. He loved her. Why couldn't she just enjoy it? Why did she say those things? Why was she trying to push him away? Why could she not allow herself to be happy? She was so conflicted. Her overwhelming guilt at surviving when so many others had not, including her own family, weighed heavily on her. Would she ever be able to have more than a moment of levity before her guilt took it away? Why did he love her? What had she done to deserve it? What the hell did this kind, sweet, beautiful man want with her? Who was she to find someone to love in the middle of this mess? Didn't he see how broken she was? Once he knew better, he would leave, of course he would, right? Why would he want this? She had spiraled pretty far at this point. After a while, she had tired herself out and fell asleep in the tub.

When he had worked up the courage to go back to the house, he couldn't find her. She was not in the kitchen where he left her, nor was she in the living room or empty upstairs bedroom. Was she gone? He ran down to the bunker to look, but found nothing. He started to cry in frustration. "Fuck!" he yelled, slamming his fists against the wall. Maybe she could still hear him from wherever she was...

Hearing him yell and feeling the vibration in the wall from him hitting it, she woke with a start. She sat and listened to him think.

"I'm sorry Mila! I'm so sorry! I don't know why I lost my temper. Why am I such an idiot? I can't even imagine what you must think of me right now. God, why did I say those things? Why did it bother me so much for you to think of me like some skirt-chasing jerk? Not like I haven't been that guy in the past, you were not so far off. But with you? I don't know. It's like I can't even look at you without feeling like my heart is going to burst. Fuck it, if you can hear me, I'm just going to tell you. I have never loved anything or anyone the way I love you. Not my mom. Not my best friend. Not other girls. Not Scarlet O'Hara. Nobody. And to be honest, it scares the shit out of me. I don't know what's coming for us, if we're going to get through this fucking war, or hell, what's going to happen tomorrow. All I know is that I have loved you more in this short time than I could ever imagine. I love you more than my dumb little brain can say. And I never ever EVER wanted to hurt you."

She was crying again. "James?" she called out between sobs.

He bolted upstairs and found her in the tub. Why hadn't he looked there? He ran over and hopped into the cast iron behemoth with her and just held her while they both cried.

After a few minutes, she had calmed down enough to look up at him. She saw the pain, regret, and fear on his face; it was almost too much for her to bear. She lightly wiped a tear from his jaw. "James, I am so sorry to have doubted you. It was all my fault. I am having a difficult time with all of this."

He kissed her head and said "No! Mila, this was all MY fault! I lost my cool and said some things I shouldn't have. You were just trying to be cautious. I forget sometimes that my mouth moves faster than my brain. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please don't hate me. Please forgive me?" He was begging and bit his lip to keep from crying.

"I could never hate you, my love. I just don't know if I can let myself be with you..." she started sobbing again.

"What?! No! How could you say that?! What would make you think like that?!" as he held on to her for dear life.

"I don't deserve this!" she sobbed "I shouldn't even be here! I don't deserve you!"

"Mila, no! What the hell are you saying?" he was terrified to hear her answer.

"James, don't you understand?! I should have died many times over by now! Almost everyone I know, everyone I love, they are all DEAD!" she was hysterical "I have no explanation for why I am still here, when so many others are gone! Why did I survive when they did not?! I have done NOTHING to earn any of this! To deserve to have a life! To deserve to be with you!" she collapsed in his arms.

"Jesus, Mila. Do you give yourself any credit for all the things you had to do to get here? Honestly, I have a hard time just listening to it, and you LIVED IT. Do you think that all the people you've helped, including me, aren't grateful that you ARE here? Do you ever think about all the people you are going to help in the future because you are still here? What about your family? They loved you and they protected you, willingly. Do you think that they wanted you to suffer? To beat yourself up for the rest of your life because you survived? Mila, do you know how many of my friends from the Army are never going to see their families again? You don't think that doesn't wear on all of us who are still above ground? God, I can't imagine how much pain you carry with you, but don't we owe it to everyone who isn't here? Don't we stick it to the bastards every goddamn day we are still here? Mila, look at me." He took her face in his hands. "Look at me, and tell me that by us being here, being together, that's not the biggest 'fuck you' to the assholes who want us dead?!"

"You certainly have a way with words, my love" she forced a smile as she gazed up at him. "Colorful, though they may be, you make some compelling arguments." She sighed. "Thank you, my love. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."