Three days later:
"Hey."
"Hey."
They exchange half-smiles as he moves slowly through her doorway.
"How was Minnesota?" she asks with her back to him, closing the door.
"Excruciating," he sighs.
"Whoa, that's a strong sentiment! What happened?" She gestures to the couch, offering him a seat.
He groans as he drops himself like a ton of bricks onto the sofa. "I just didn't want to be there. The weather was miserable. I felt useless. And the undertaker is a friend of Renee's from high school - so we spent an inordinate amount of time at the funeral home. And he's not such an interesting guy - being a mortician and all. And I didn't work out or eat one decent meal." He shakes his head with a grimace.
She chuckles in response. "I'm sorry, Harm. Home sweet home, huh?" Her expression amused.
He straightens himself and looks up at her as she continues to stand on the other side of the coffee table. With sincere staidness, he asks, "How have you been?"
With a deep breath she attempts to assure him. "I'm alright." Despite her efforts, the shakiness of her response again betrays her inner turmoil.
"Look, Mac, I want to apologize. I'm sorry for putting you in the position where you couldn't come to me, that I turned you away." He averts his eyes abashedly, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I'm sorry you were somewhere alone needing me. I feel sick about it." After a moment of staring at the carpet, having still not heard a response, he ventures a look. Mac's pained expression leaves him wide-eyed. "I'm sorry; this shouldn't be about me."
"But, it *is* about you, Harm! It's *all* about you." She explodes without missing a beat. To choke back emotion, she pauses and gasps a ragged breath. Realizing that he is sure to not understand her outburst, she continues. "I asked Mic not to leave and he told me that the only reason I wanted him to stay was because I was afraid to be alone. And he's right," she says, quietly, tears filling her hazel eyes. "The Corps's made me tough and independent - I don't *need* anyone. But, I'm afraid." With a scornful chuckle she adds, "The irony's that I would've been alone even if I *had* married Mic."
"What? You said that you loved him," he exclaims, thoroughly confused.
"I do love him. But, I'm not *in* love with him. For all his good intentions, there's a hole in my heart that Mic could never fill. But, I was going to marry him anyway." She wraps her arms around herself for a measure of protection, disgusted with herself.
"Why, then?" Although astounded by her alacrity, trying to put together the insufficient pieces of this deranged puzzle is giving him the start of a catastrophic headache.
"'Cause I'm afraid to be alone, Harm." She chokes back a sob, attempting to retain her composure. She removes her eyes from the familiar tip of her stockinged foot to find Harm standing in place. She sees the compassion and confusion dueling in his eyes. Drawing strength from his gaze, she continues quietly. "I would have walked off of the Admiral's porch with you - if only you'd wanted me to. But, you didn't." She attempts to smile as if it does not matter any longer. "I thought that having someone who loves me as much as Mic does is better than nothing." Seeing his face fall in disbelief, yet still unconvinced that he did not already know, she explodes, "I don't want to wait around for you forever. I DON'T!!! I hate you for making me wait. I hate you for making me feel guilty for wanting to be with *some*one, even if it isn't you. And I hate you for making me hurt Mic." Another ragged breath for air and pause for calm. "But, I can't help it. You're gonna have it your way." She looks up at him, amazed and horrified at her courage. "I have no desire to be with anyone but you, Harm." She looks down, and then drops heavily into the recliner, with quiet sobs and quiet tears. "And I hate you for that, too."
He stands there, staring at the top of her head, all but paralyzed by her impetuous revelation. Those same quiet sobs tugging at the familiar ache in his chest. "Mac . . . I thought . . . I . . . thought you *wanted* to be with Brumby. I didn't want to make it hard for you. It was your decision to make." But, knowing that that was a cop-out, he looks down and adds quieter, deeper, "I told you I wanted you."
She looks up through an agonized laugh. Jadedly, she deliberately enunciates each word, "No, Harm, you told me you wanted me to wait." He looks at her again, their eyes lock, pain flowing openly between them. "Just to keep my life on hold. What the*hell* am I waiting for?!"
He sits again, this time perched on the edge of the couch, recognizing her most recent question as his opening. "You said it; I couldn't let go. And that's just it - we were both putting our lives on hold." One more deep breath, more for effect than anything. He intends for these words to come off strong and confident but they are mere air. "Mac, I can't be the man I want to be without you."
"Wha'?" Her question a barely-articulated reaction.
"It took me being willing to lose you to Brumby to understand what a clod I've been. I know what I want out of life. And I've tried to get it - with Annie and Jordan and Renee. But, I could never . . . deep down, I knew from the beginning that they wouldn't work out. Mac, it's you. And I'm sorry that it had to go this far for me to get here, but I don't want to put my life on hold any more. I'm done wasting time." She dazedly stares at him. "Do you really hate me?"
A reactive chuckle escapes her lips. "Harm . . ." She looks down again to compose her thoughts. She begins with a slight smile as she meets his awaiting eyes. "I hate everything you've put me through," and, acknowledging him as her protector, "everything that you allowed me to put myself through." She shakes her head; she can feel the tears coming again. "I could never hate you. I was just so tired of standing still. So, I tried to move on with Mic. But, it wasn't fair to him because I wasn't in love with him." She averts her eyes, slowly inhaling, building strength. "And it wasn't fair to me because I *am* in love with you."
Her breath catches in her throat as his hand is placed gingerly on her knee. "I'm sorry that I didn't understand. The last thing I want to do is hurt you and . . . and I don't think I've ever been able to avoid it. Mac, at the party . . . I really thought that it was Brumby you wanted. I tried to give you a way out but you didn't seem to be interested. I - "
"*Harm*!" Him and his blasted excuses! Seething, she leaps out of the chair and paces the room. "Sometimes a girl needs to be *fought* for. Mic gave up his country and the Navy for a *chance* with me. You wouldn't even put your precious pride on the line." She stops and faces him head on, looking him dead in the eye. "That doesn't make me feel like I'm worth much."
"Not worth much?! Oh, my God, MAC!!!" He exclaims with a deep wrinkle in his brow and disbelief in his voice.
She lets out an exasperated huff.
After everything they have been through together and for each other, it is preposterous that she thinks that she is worth nothing to him. She cannot honestly believe that. And he knows it. But, having just laid her heart on the line, he knows that he must respond in kind. Quietly, knowingly, he goes for it. "You're bitter."
"HA! I think I have a right to be," she shoots back, angrily defiant. He has pushed her away so many times and ran them around in circles for so long, damn straight she is bitter!
"It just makes it harder for me," he continues.
His quiet introspective tone rubs her frayed nerves. "Hard for *you*?!"
"Mac, I don't think you heard me."
"I've heard everything you've said, Harm," interrupting, becoming more angry with the passing of every word.
"No, you heard but I don't think you were listening. I want you. Now." He stands, arms limp at his sides, begging with his eyes.
She wonders at those last words - is her heart deceiving her? "So, I'm just supposed to accept that? Am I supposed to run into your arms and forget about everything . . . ?" Her frustration slow to dissipate.
"How do I make it up to you?" Knowing that he probably never could truly expiate. But, at this point, he will try anything.
"That's for you to figure out," she spits back at him. He wants bitter, she will give him bitter.
Well, that only leaves him one option. He moves around the coffee table and stands directly in front of her, in an open position. "Mac," here goes nothin', "I love you."
His words pierce through her anger; she opens her eyes and finds herself staring, just inches from her, at his throat. His throat. Those words just came from his throat. Did she really hear him say that?! She tilts her head to look into his eyes. "Really?" She asks, matter-of-factly.
A chuckle escapes his lips. Wow, is he nervous. This vulnerability stuff is not easy. "Really."
"What about Renee?" She inquires, cautiously, skeptically.
He dismissively waves his hand. "We'll talk when she gets home."
"When will that be?" She asks, wistfully, the declaration beginning to sink in.
"Some time next week, I think."
For a moment, she is absolutely speechless - his dulcet words like candy. Are they setting a date to "get together?" With the help of her careful smile, she finds her voice. "I forget how many years it's been. I guess I can wait another week."
He reaches out for her and pulls her into his arms. With her head tucked under his chin, she feels his rapid heartbeat. The few times that they had embraced, she had always felt so comfortable. But, this . . . this place she never wants to leave. And with his promise, she never will. With her eyes closed, and the sound of his pounding heart in her ear, she asks for that promise. "Say it again."
"Mac!"
"Say it again."
"I love you."
La fine
"Hey."
"Hey."
They exchange half-smiles as he moves slowly through her doorway.
"How was Minnesota?" she asks with her back to him, closing the door.
"Excruciating," he sighs.
"Whoa, that's a strong sentiment! What happened?" She gestures to the couch, offering him a seat.
He groans as he drops himself like a ton of bricks onto the sofa. "I just didn't want to be there. The weather was miserable. I felt useless. And the undertaker is a friend of Renee's from high school - so we spent an inordinate amount of time at the funeral home. And he's not such an interesting guy - being a mortician and all. And I didn't work out or eat one decent meal." He shakes his head with a grimace.
She chuckles in response. "I'm sorry, Harm. Home sweet home, huh?" Her expression amused.
He straightens himself and looks up at her as she continues to stand on the other side of the coffee table. With sincere staidness, he asks, "How have you been?"
With a deep breath she attempts to assure him. "I'm alright." Despite her efforts, the shakiness of her response again betrays her inner turmoil.
"Look, Mac, I want to apologize. I'm sorry for putting you in the position where you couldn't come to me, that I turned you away." He averts his eyes abashedly, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I'm sorry you were somewhere alone needing me. I feel sick about it." After a moment of staring at the carpet, having still not heard a response, he ventures a look. Mac's pained expression leaves him wide-eyed. "I'm sorry; this shouldn't be about me."
"But, it *is* about you, Harm! It's *all* about you." She explodes without missing a beat. To choke back emotion, she pauses and gasps a ragged breath. Realizing that he is sure to not understand her outburst, she continues. "I asked Mic not to leave and he told me that the only reason I wanted him to stay was because I was afraid to be alone. And he's right," she says, quietly, tears filling her hazel eyes. "The Corps's made me tough and independent - I don't *need* anyone. But, I'm afraid." With a scornful chuckle she adds, "The irony's that I would've been alone even if I *had* married Mic."
"What? You said that you loved him," he exclaims, thoroughly confused.
"I do love him. But, I'm not *in* love with him. For all his good intentions, there's a hole in my heart that Mic could never fill. But, I was going to marry him anyway." She wraps her arms around herself for a measure of protection, disgusted with herself.
"Why, then?" Although astounded by her alacrity, trying to put together the insufficient pieces of this deranged puzzle is giving him the start of a catastrophic headache.
"'Cause I'm afraid to be alone, Harm." She chokes back a sob, attempting to retain her composure. She removes her eyes from the familiar tip of her stockinged foot to find Harm standing in place. She sees the compassion and confusion dueling in his eyes. Drawing strength from his gaze, she continues quietly. "I would have walked off of the Admiral's porch with you - if only you'd wanted me to. But, you didn't." She attempts to smile as if it does not matter any longer. "I thought that having someone who loves me as much as Mic does is better than nothing." Seeing his face fall in disbelief, yet still unconvinced that he did not already know, she explodes, "I don't want to wait around for you forever. I DON'T!!! I hate you for making me wait. I hate you for making me feel guilty for wanting to be with *some*one, even if it isn't you. And I hate you for making me hurt Mic." Another ragged breath for air and pause for calm. "But, I can't help it. You're gonna have it your way." She looks up at him, amazed and horrified at her courage. "I have no desire to be with anyone but you, Harm." She looks down, and then drops heavily into the recliner, with quiet sobs and quiet tears. "And I hate you for that, too."
He stands there, staring at the top of her head, all but paralyzed by her impetuous revelation. Those same quiet sobs tugging at the familiar ache in his chest. "Mac . . . I thought . . . I . . . thought you *wanted* to be with Brumby. I didn't want to make it hard for you. It was your decision to make." But, knowing that that was a cop-out, he looks down and adds quieter, deeper, "I told you I wanted you."
She looks up through an agonized laugh. Jadedly, she deliberately enunciates each word, "No, Harm, you told me you wanted me to wait." He looks at her again, their eyes lock, pain flowing openly between them. "Just to keep my life on hold. What the*hell* am I waiting for?!"
He sits again, this time perched on the edge of the couch, recognizing her most recent question as his opening. "You said it; I couldn't let go. And that's just it - we were both putting our lives on hold." One more deep breath, more for effect than anything. He intends for these words to come off strong and confident but they are mere air. "Mac, I can't be the man I want to be without you."
"Wha'?" Her question a barely-articulated reaction.
"It took me being willing to lose you to Brumby to understand what a clod I've been. I know what I want out of life. And I've tried to get it - with Annie and Jordan and Renee. But, I could never . . . deep down, I knew from the beginning that they wouldn't work out. Mac, it's you. And I'm sorry that it had to go this far for me to get here, but I don't want to put my life on hold any more. I'm done wasting time." She dazedly stares at him. "Do you really hate me?"
A reactive chuckle escapes her lips. "Harm . . ." She looks down again to compose her thoughts. She begins with a slight smile as she meets his awaiting eyes. "I hate everything you've put me through," and, acknowledging him as her protector, "everything that you allowed me to put myself through." She shakes her head; she can feel the tears coming again. "I could never hate you. I was just so tired of standing still. So, I tried to move on with Mic. But, it wasn't fair to him because I wasn't in love with him." She averts her eyes, slowly inhaling, building strength. "And it wasn't fair to me because I *am* in love with you."
Her breath catches in her throat as his hand is placed gingerly on her knee. "I'm sorry that I didn't understand. The last thing I want to do is hurt you and . . . and I don't think I've ever been able to avoid it. Mac, at the party . . . I really thought that it was Brumby you wanted. I tried to give you a way out but you didn't seem to be interested. I - "
"*Harm*!" Him and his blasted excuses! Seething, she leaps out of the chair and paces the room. "Sometimes a girl needs to be *fought* for. Mic gave up his country and the Navy for a *chance* with me. You wouldn't even put your precious pride on the line." She stops and faces him head on, looking him dead in the eye. "That doesn't make me feel like I'm worth much."
"Not worth much?! Oh, my God, MAC!!!" He exclaims with a deep wrinkle in his brow and disbelief in his voice.
She lets out an exasperated huff.
After everything they have been through together and for each other, it is preposterous that she thinks that she is worth nothing to him. She cannot honestly believe that. And he knows it. But, having just laid her heart on the line, he knows that he must respond in kind. Quietly, knowingly, he goes for it. "You're bitter."
"HA! I think I have a right to be," she shoots back, angrily defiant. He has pushed her away so many times and ran them around in circles for so long, damn straight she is bitter!
"It just makes it harder for me," he continues.
His quiet introspective tone rubs her frayed nerves. "Hard for *you*?!"
"Mac, I don't think you heard me."
"I've heard everything you've said, Harm," interrupting, becoming more angry with the passing of every word.
"No, you heard but I don't think you were listening. I want you. Now." He stands, arms limp at his sides, begging with his eyes.
She wonders at those last words - is her heart deceiving her? "So, I'm just supposed to accept that? Am I supposed to run into your arms and forget about everything . . . ?" Her frustration slow to dissipate.
"How do I make it up to you?" Knowing that he probably never could truly expiate. But, at this point, he will try anything.
"That's for you to figure out," she spits back at him. He wants bitter, she will give him bitter.
Well, that only leaves him one option. He moves around the coffee table and stands directly in front of her, in an open position. "Mac," here goes nothin', "I love you."
His words pierce through her anger; she opens her eyes and finds herself staring, just inches from her, at his throat. His throat. Those words just came from his throat. Did she really hear him say that?! She tilts her head to look into his eyes. "Really?" She asks, matter-of-factly.
A chuckle escapes his lips. Wow, is he nervous. This vulnerability stuff is not easy. "Really."
"What about Renee?" She inquires, cautiously, skeptically.
He dismissively waves his hand. "We'll talk when she gets home."
"When will that be?" She asks, wistfully, the declaration beginning to sink in.
"Some time next week, I think."
For a moment, she is absolutely speechless - his dulcet words like candy. Are they setting a date to "get together?" With the help of her careful smile, she finds her voice. "I forget how many years it's been. I guess I can wait another week."
He reaches out for her and pulls her into his arms. With her head tucked under his chin, she feels his rapid heartbeat. The few times that they had embraced, she had always felt so comfortable. But, this . . . this place she never wants to leave. And with his promise, she never will. With her eyes closed, and the sound of his pounding heart in her ear, she asks for that promise. "Say it again."
"Mac!"
"Say it again."
"I love you."
La fine