“Thank you, honey.”

Julie shifted to face the window, missing the way Danny’s mouth curled up a tiny bit. He wouldn’t say out loud that the therapist wouldn’t just help him, but her…them. He wasn’t a dumb man. Stubborn woman needed to think she was doing him a favor, then so be it. In time, she’d figure it out.

***

EVER SO SLOWLY, light crept back into Julie’s mercurial eyes. After her first visit with the therapist, Julie’s mood had worsened. Her tears came more easily, and Danny wondered if maybe he’d pushed too hard too soon. Chester assured him that, as with soldiers returning from war, trauma was a battle fought with patience, time, and endurance, not a smile and a pat on the back. While Danny felt the loss of their baby, Julie was suffering with the guilt of not protecting what she felt was her mission, her purpose.

“Think about it, Dan,” Chester gruffed into the phone while Julie was at her second appointment, “we’re trained…no man left behind, yeah? We lose one of our own, and we feel it through to our gut. I know you lost your unborn child, I know you’re hurtin’, but she lost her life blood. She left someone behind…”

Chester’s words pierced Danny, but also brought a little more clarity, as they always did. He had been the reason Danny suggested therapy in the first place.

“Let her feel the pain, son—”

“That’s all she’s been doing!”

“No,” Chester said, “she’s been feelin’ nothin’…numb. The first session cracked her. Angry, tearful…she’s finally feelin’. You’re doin’ good, boy. Hold tight, and you’ll get our girl back soon. I promise, she’s worth the fight.”

“Fuck, Ches, you don’t think I know she’s worth it? I just miss her, man.”

###

TRUE TO HIS friend’s word, over the following weeks, Julie’s smile returned. It may not have been as bright as before, but it was honest, and it reached her eyes.

“You’re never gonna believe what movie I rented for tonight.” Danny waggled his brows as he tossed the box of Goobers and the package of strawberry Twizzlers on the coffee table and headed to the kitchen to grab two bottles of beer.

“Am I supposed to sit here and guess?” Julie called from the sofa.

Her sarcastic retort made a smile pull at Danny’s cheeks. Welcome back, baby. What he said was, “Yes, smart ass, why don’t you take a guess?”

“Hmm, Point Break?”

“No.” He placed the cold beverages on the table and served up the best glare he could.“I think seeing it twice in the theater and renting it three times so you could ogle Keanu Reeves has maxed out my lifetime desire to ever watch that movie again.”

“Danny, just tell me,” Julie mock-whined, giggling in a way that was musical and missed. “It’s rare you have the entire day and night off, and we’ve been running around like crazy all day. If we don’t get started soon, I can’t guarantee I’ll make it through the whole movie.”

“No way you’re falling asleep on this one, honey. Here’s a hint.” He cleared his throat and attempted his best Marissa Tomei accent. “‘One tire spins, the other tire does nothing.’”

“Ahh!” Julie’s arms flew up, narrowly missing the food and drinks. “You rented My Cousin Vinny? Danny, I’m so excited to see it again! We only got to see that movie twice on opening weekend. It came out right before we left on our trip.”

Danny thought back to the first time they’d seen it on opening weekend. The movie came out only a few months after he lost his baby brother, left his job, and decided to work behind a bar. He’d laughed so hard the night they saw My Cousin Vinny, and he remembered wondering how laughter was possible even when his hurt and uncertainty felt all-consuming. The four weeks that followed were medicine to his soul and produced the tiny life he and Julie had wished for.

While he had no intentions of pushing his wife to become intimate before she was ready—which clearly she wasn’t, based on the fact that the only touching she sought and accepted was being held in the dead of night when horrors pulled her from sleep and into his arms—he couldn’t help but hope the movie that brought levity to him would bring laughter to her.

It did. As they recited the lines they remembered from the two times they saw the film and snorted with abandon at the silly antics of Joe Pesci and Marissa Tomei, Danny felt tension melt from Julie’s body. Each tear that left her eyes may have come from laughter, but it held sadness that had been trapped for nearly two months.

At the end, when Julie kissed Danny’s cheek and whispered, “Thank you,” he felt the hero so many had claimed him to be.

That night, once tucked in bed, Julie tangled their fingers together as she laid her head close to his shoulder. “I love you, Danny,” she whispered. “I promise, I’ll get back to…normal soon.”

His heart pounded. Her touch, as small as it was, was a magical elixir to his skin, but her words brought both comfort and discontent. “Honey, it’s because I love you that your promise isn’t needed. You understand? Take the time you need to feel what you need to feel.” He squeezed her hand. “Not gonna lie, having your hand in mine…Christ, that small touch…heaven, Jules. But as long as you’re working on coming back to not just me but you…I’ll fucking wait. Just don’t shut me out, darlin’.”

“Okay.”

The room got quiet as her breaths evened out, each exhale warming the skin of his shoulder. She’s on her way back, he thought just before sleep claimed him.

***

WITH EACH PASSING week, Julie got stronger. As much as she hated to admit it, Danny had been right to suggest and all but force her to go to therapy. While she was grateful to her husband, watching him barely hide the twitch of his lips when she conceded to his fabulousness was a bit tough on her ego.

“Guilty, you’ve been feeling guilty…”

The resignation in her husband’s voice suggested that he didn’t hold her responsible for the accident that had ended the pregnancy, a point her therapist had been trying to drive home for weeks.

“Honey”—Danny lifted her chin until their eyes met—“you’ve been hoarding the responsibility of what happened. Got yourself a suitcase filled with blame, yeah?”

She nodded.

“Keep thinking what if you hadn’t gone to work that night? What if you hadn’t worked so hard or walked to the car alone?”

He’s been reading my mind. How else could he know the questions that have played on a continuous loop for the past twelve weeks?

“Maybe you should place your bag next to mine,” he said.

Her eyes widened. What does he mean? He did nothing wrong.

“You see, I gotta duffle stuffed with ‘what ifs’ too. What if I didn’t work on the nights you worked? What if I had a mobile phone instead of a pager? Could I have gotten to you faster? What if I insisted on you quitting your job at O’Brian’s the minute you hit your second trimester?” Humor lit his gaze. “Don’t look at me that way, babe. I know you never would have done it, but I still battle with that regret.”

She swallowed, allowing his words to wash over her, seep into her, and resonate.

“So many ‘what ifs,’ Jul, but none of them matter. You could have slipped and fallen on the way into the grocery store. You could’ve tripped down the stairs in our home. It was an accident,” he said, enunciating every word.

Slowly, she repeated him, “It was an accident, Danny. It was.”

His hazel stare burned into hers, God, his eyes saw into her soul in a way no one else’s could. Unconditional love in its purest form. That was why she’d spent so much time in the past three months avoiding them. They undid her, made her want things she needed to hide from. But lately, hiding was getting harder, mostly because she was done trying. She wanted to let him in, share her burdens, and move on. Her twelve-week obstetrician follow-up appointment was the next day; she was ready to take back her life.