Tender (Book 1 - Complete)

Chapter 35 - Lynn

As Jamie's hands clamp down around his artificial thigh—or what he calls, the socket—my breath hitches in my throat. I have no fear as to how I'll react. I honestly couldn't care less if he's missing a leg. But, I find myself anxious for him. I understand that this is a big deal. He's stripping away a layer of confidence and willingly revealing his greatest insecurity to me. It's incredible.

My eyes travel with the movements of the socket and as Jamie releases a muffled exhale, he presses a button on the side of the plastic molding and pulls it away from his flesh. I can hear the suction release as the prosthetic breaks free and Jamie carefully lays it on the ground next to him. His thigh is covered in a rubber-looking sock, which is what must have kept the socket suctioned to his leg.

I want to ask questions as he begins to remove the sock, but I refrain. It's already difficult enough for him to reveal this part of him, I'm not going to add stress to the situation by interrogating him about each step involved with taking the prosthetic off. Instead, I tell myself I'll just do a little Google research of my own later.

Once he's rolled the rubber fitting off his thigh, he gets to work removing a couple layers of socks. His eyes meet mine briefly as his fingers grip the last sock hiding his skin from sight.

"Ready?" he asks, with a tight smile.

"As I'll ever be."

And then the material is sliding away from his flesh. I watch, transfixed, until Jamie drops the sock onto the ground and plants his hands firmly against the ground beneath him as he studies my reaction.

"Hate to say this," I tell him, eyes skimming the scar along his stump, "But that was severely anticlimactic."

A loud laugh of relief breaks through his lips, and I glance up at his smiling face. I watch him for a moment, relaxing in the warmth of his expression. His eyes lock with mine and I feel the entire world shift, realigning itself to fit into this altered universe—a universe where the emotions emitting from Jamie's eyes reflect mine. We're in sync, and I'm not sure if it's just a moment, or if I'm glimpsing a certain truth inside Jamie's normally shielded heart. A truth that leads me to believe he might just feel something greater than friendship between us.

It's a startling realization. The thought itself feels so foreign. He's denied me for so long that I actually did give up hope, which was why I found it so easy to joke about it with him. Because I knew anything more would never happen. Now?... I'm not so sure.

As I continue to analyze his features, he does the same to me. Humor has evaporated, taking with it all signs of comfort. Nerves begin to spark with anticipation as my body moves me forward. He watches, curiosity swimming in his gaze as I slowly lift my hand toward him. I'm hesitant—unsure—but only for a moment. Before I can convince myself that it's a bad idea, I slide my fingers over his scar.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jamie gasps, the very second my fingertips graze his disfigured flesh. "What are you doing?"

I don't stop, because I feel like this is important. He needs to understand that it doesn't bother me. I find beauty in this blemish because it resembles victory. He went through hell and managed to win against the ugliness of depression and defeat and guilt. They still remain but they don't control him. My eyes follow my fingers as they slide across his thigh, tracing the mark that signifies the day his life was changed forever.

When Jamie's palm slams down over my hand, my eyes jump up to meet his again. He's watching me, the most peculiar look on his face. It's a mix of feelings. He mortified and startled and puzzled all at once. He doesn't release his grip but he does loosen it, and I take this as encouragement to continue. Only, instead of sliding my fingers across his residual limb, I lift my hands to his face and trace the edge of his jaw.