The Lover's Diaries

You Can't Do That

I took in a shaky breath, hugging myself as I stood in the kitchen, the cool spring breeze blowing through the windows. I chew my lip, trying to collect my thoughts. I feel a strong pair of arms circle around me, and soft lips kiss that spot on my shoulder. For a moment, I let my eyes close.
He traces the tie-string of my top, twirling it between his fingers. "I know you're hurt, baby—"
"Hurt? Oh no. I am not hurt." I push away from him, needing the space. "My feelings aren't hurt. My heart isn't hurt. You didn't hurt me..... I am offended! You marched in there, with no gun, no backup, and no vest! You went in there, into a warehouse with gun-toting maniacs who were hell-bent on killing you! You marched in there, cape flying dramatically behind, not giving a damn about anything but yourself. I'm offended you think you can just do that! I'm offended you weren't thinking! I'm offended you didn't think about me. About Jack. About Sean..... I'm offended, because you don't care about us," I finish quietly, looking to the floor.
"Linda, that is-"
"I can't believe you did that! You- you can't just do that, Danny!"
"I know, and I'm sorry. But—"
"Sorry? You're sorry? Oh, well. That fixes that, doesn't it?" I almost smirk sadistically. "You can't sweet talk your way outta this one, oh no." I cross my arms, shaking my head. "Sorry doesn't fix anything. If you were really sorry, you wouldn't have done that. I can't believe you don't care."
"Linda, that is a lie. I do care."
"Oh yeah, Mr. Hero-Complex? Today, it was this. Last year? The bank. The year before that, drug cartel. The year before that, the car bomb. Before that, every single damn thing. 2004 to 2008, Fallujah. 2003, hospital roof. '02, fire. '01, the bridge. 2000, the convenient store. '99? The f****** plane! '98, another bomb. '97, robbery gone wrong. '96, Mungo. '95, joining the force! '91 to '94? Fallujah!"
"How do you-"
"Because I wrote them down, Danny! I wrote them down." I sniff, the tears finally slowly slipping from my eyes. I turn away, and look down. "It's all in my diary. Everything. The anger I felt, the worry, the fear...." I turn around quickly, "every damn year you do something stupider than the year before that! I can't lose you!" Quietly, with clenched fists, I whisper, "I can't." As quickly as I had gone to fear, I go back to anger. "And you don't seem to care about that! At all! You.... mean, pathetic," I walk up to him, and start jabbing his chest. "Egotistical, narcissistic, arrogant," with each adjective, I hit harder, with both fists. Each hit, my voice falters more. "Hero-complexed, asshole, son of a bitch!" When my words are drowned out by my sobs, I feel Danny hold me.
Danny feels me try to wiggle out of his grasp. "No, no. Linda, calm down..... you know I love you more than anything in this world, and I'd do anything to keep you safe. And that's why it seems like I do stupid things sometimes. I'm keeping you and the boys, and Erin, and Nicky, and Jamie, and Dad, and Pops all safe." He kisses my forehead as I desperately cling to him, my body shaking with sobs.
"I- I can- can't bre- breathe." I choke out between sobs.
Danny loosens his tight hug, and I shake my head. My breathing became very shallow and labored. Quickly, he pulls back, releasing me so I can have more air. "Okay, baby." He easily lifts me onto the counter, standing between my legs. "Just breathe. Breathe, baby. In.... and out."
I close my eyes and try to concentrate on my breathing.
"In."
One.... two... three.. four...
"And out."
After minutes of the same routine, and no change, Danny starts getting concerned, I can tell. "Linda, baby. Honey. Is anything hurting?"
I tap my chest, then my head. One hand grips his shoulder, holding onto my life line. I suddenly push him away, and jump down from the counter. I start pacing, wringing my hands together.
"Linda, please, sit still. Calm down. Do you feel dizzy?"
I only nod, clutching my chest with both hands.
"Words. I need words, sweetheart."
"Yes, and nauseous. And- and- and.... Danny, I- I can't...."
***********
Suddenly, I'm in the warm bed. I slowly opened my eyes, a headache present in the front of my head. I groan and shift, smelling the familiar cologne that Danny uses. I inhale, burying my face into the lee of his shoulder.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Mmm," I whine, snuggling impossibly closer.
"What's wrong? What can I do?"
"Oh, I just have a headache, that's all.... Danny?"
"Hm?" He starts rubbing my back in small circles.
"What, uh..... weren't we just in the kitchen?"
"Uh..... yeah." He sounds almost scared. "Yeah, we were."
"So...."
"How'd we end up here?"
"Yeah."
"You, uh, you fainted. After a full-fledged panic attack."
"Oh..... why?"
"Linda, right now, I think it's best if you don't know. I'll tell you when I'm sure you're okay."
I smile softly, "but I am okay. What happened? I wanna know. Please."
He sighs, and holds me tighter. "I, uh.... I did something pretty stupid. And, rightfully, you got pissed. You threw yourself into a panic attack." Danny starts to shift, and rolls me onto my back. He presses his forehead against mine, "gosh, you scared me, baby."
I feel guilty about that. "I'm sorry, it's just.... you got me so mad—"
He cuts me off with a kiss. The kiss is so intense, and, despite doing this so many times, I don't relax into it. Not right away, anyways. It's not until he pins my arms above my head that I start to relax.
I think he can sense my slight rigidness, cause he caresses my face with his other hand. That hand moves to my throat, and he rests it there. He lightly chokes me- but not really. He just holds my throat and kisses me so intently, so forcefully, I can't remember who's air I'm breathing.
I'm able to wriggle my hands free of his grip, and they find his face. My left arm wraps around his neck and my right leg around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.
We're having sex, at two in the afternoon. No, it's not sex. It's making love. It's sweet and romantic, and I want it to last forever. His lips brush against my skin so perfectly, it's like the feeling of a thousand butterflies. Actually, it's like that whole song. He takes his time, makes sure every inch of me feels the love he has for me.
It seems like slowly making love takes more out of me than the fast-paced sex we often have. Don't get me wrong, both are great. But now, since that night in the hotel, it's like we have to rediscover our bodies. And I kinda like that.
Danny will always do stupid things, I know that now. It's just apart of who he is. But maybe, after today, he'll see what it does to me, and he'll think about jumping head first into a messy situation.
"I love you."
"I love you, too, Danny."
The problem isn't exactly resolved, but he knows what his stupidity does to me now. And I think he's going to be more careful.