Romantic love story

Chapter Five: A Bleeding Heart

It took Terry several minutes to get his grief under control. By the time he climbed into the jeep, his clothes were sopping wet and fast soaking the vehicle's upholstery. The thought came to him to be grateful the downpour hadn't spoiled their Labor Day barbeque, that at least everyone had a day on the beach before the rain started.

Terry tried to focus on that thought. God held back the rain until now. And Terry had held back his tears until leaving Madison.

Back to her.

Terry let out a low moan. Why did everything in his life have to come back to the pain? It seemed no matter what he did, life was bent on reminding him of what he tried so hard to forget. Madison's troubled gray eyes held seemingly terrible secrets, but Terry felt as though he shared in their quiet torment simply by being in her presence.

From her panicked reaction to the hypothetical woman, Terry knew his guess of abuse had been correct. What kind of abuse almost seemed irrelevant. Madison was a survivor. That was what mattered.

Focus on that, he thought, starting the jeep before the tears had a chance to come back. Remember God's grace, claim His precious promises, and keep moving forward.

I have to keep moving forward.

The renewed determination helped to staunch the fresh wave of grief threatening to overtake him.

I'm a mess, Terry thought. Thank God, John isn't here to see this. Or, for that matter, Izzy.

Every trace of grief must be wiped away before he could return home. Otherwise, Terry feared John's offer to help Madison might be taken back in a frenzy of trying to protect the wrong person. Madison needed the help, not Terry.

"Please, God, don't let me break down," Terry prayed as he turned the jeep onto the main road. "For her sake, make me strong."

* * * *

It didn't make sense to wait up for Terry after the triplets had been put to bed, although the thought had occurred to John to do just that. Wait on the sofa with a book, then doze off until Terry came home. The gesture would let the guy know someone had noticed he was gone. It would also make Terry feel like someone was watching over his shoulder every waking moment, and John didn't want to do that to his friend.

Rolling onto his side, John stared at the digital clock beside the bed. The time kept getting later, and still Terry had yet to come home.

Izumi's sigh broke through the silent darkness of the bedroom. "Why don't you call the apartment?" She leaned over to snap on the bedside lamp, turned to look at John. "Neither one of us are going to get a wink of sleep until we know he's all right."

John shook his head. "I'd feel like an intruder. He and Madison are probably talking, and Terry forgot about the time."

Another glance at the clock squeezed a distressed moan from John. "I think I liked it better when he was helping Victor. The man was a bloodsucking leach, but at least Terry didn't have the Madison factor to contend with." At the feel of Izumi's touch, John rolled onto his back, lifted an arm to let his wife come closer for some serious snuggling. "I wish I knew what God was thinking when He sent her to Three Mile Bay. With Terry searching for someone to save, it was only a matter of time before he found her. It was inevitable." John looked down at Izumi. "Not that I'm questioning God. He knows best-- obviously-- but I wish I had God's foreknowledge. It'd make getting to sleep easier."

"Why don't you call the apartment? Or Terry's cell phone?"

"I can't shadow the guy for the rest of his life, Little Dove. I am my brother's keeper, but even that has its limits. Do you really want me to call and ask if he's cried lately? We'd both feel like idiots. Besides, if Terry needs help, he'll let me know."