by Tawny Weber
He'd done something weird to his right eye in the process. He was seeing little flashes of light here and there, having blind spots at times. He'd kept working, waiting for it to clear, but it hadn't.
So he walked back into the ER and soon found himself being scolded for not coming in sooner, by the same nurse who'd taken care of Amanda. The nurse claimed the kind of injury he had could make him lose sight completely in that eye. They wanted to send him to a specialist in Germany, which he grumbled about until he found out they'd also sent Amanda there.
Will hadn't asked about her, although it had been a constant battle not to, or to wonder if she might still be in Djibouti, if he might get to see her one more time.
Then, it hit him. They'd sent her to Germany?
"Wait. Did she get worse?"
"Her brain started swelling. We shipped her out a few hours after you left."
Shit. "Do you know what happened to her? Once she got there?"
"No, but if we sent you to Germany, you might be able to find out yourself."
"Yes, please." Will didn't even try to lie to himself about how badly he wanted that.
He got there early the next morning, caught all kinds of hell from the ophthalmologist about his eye for not seeking treatment sooner for a detached retina. Apparently it was not something to play around with.
He wanted to ask, Have you seen what's been happening in Buhkai the last few days? It wasn't like he could go across the street and find an eye specialist.
"But you can fix it, right?" he asked finally.
"Probably," the doctor said.
Will took that as a yes.
Once the doctor was gone, he found Amanda's room and knocked softly on the slightly open door. He barely got a glimpse of her—no more than a faint outline of her body, looking so small and slight, beneath the sheet on the bed as she slept—before a tall, distinguished man got up from his chair at her bedside and walked out into the hallway.
"Mr. Ambassador?" He'd left the door to Amanda's room open, but stood between it and Will, like he wasn't going to let anyone get closer to her. Will wanted in that room.
"Yes." The man seemed a bit cold, looked Will over with a skeptical eye. Will wished he'd taken the time to shower and put on clean clothes before he'd boarded the plane to come here. He definitely looked like a man who'd spent the last five days in the field.
Damn.
"Sir, Will Gerard."
"Oh, it's you." The look Will had thought was coldness disappeared, and the man became simply someone who was scared to death for his daughter. "So good to meet you, Master Chief. I'm James Warren. I can't tell you how grateful I am for what you did for my daughter."
"You're welcome, Sir." Will shook the ambassador's hand. "How is she? I heard there were some complications from the head injury."
"We had a few scary days, but the doctors managed to bring the swelling down, and they think she's going to be fine."
"I was hoping I could see her," Will said, unable to stop himself.
Hoping? He'd fight an army for five minutes with her.
"I'm not sure if that's a good idea," the ambassador said. "Between the head injury and the trauma of everything she's been through, she doesn't remember much. The doctors say it's not unusual, and while they think she likely will remember one day, I can't help but hope she doesn't. I'm afraid that seeing you might bring back some of those memories. You understand, son?"
"Of course, Sir," What else could he say? He felt dumbstruck by the news. Which was ridiculous. He'd told her himself in Djibouti to forget him, to get on with her life. And this wasn't about him. It was about her. No way he wanted her to remember something like being held hostage and raped.
Still, did that mean she didn't remember Will at all?
He hated that idea.
"I understand, Sir." Still, Jesus, that hurt. "I'd never want to do anything to make it more difficult for her."
Not even if it meant never seeing her again.
But he hadn't realized how badly he wanted to see her. Just one time, to see that she was all right.
Shit.
He wouldn't shove an old man aside and storm the door to get to her. The impulse was there, but he wasn't that crazy where she was concerned. Was he?
"They told me no one was hurt rescuing Amanda, but it looks like you did something to your eye," the ambassador said.
"Nothing serious, I'm sure," Will said. "And I didn't do it getting her out of Buhkai."
"Ahh, the embassy?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Well, is there anything else I can do for you, son?"
"No, Sir. I just wanted to make sure she was okay."
"You don't need to worry about her. I'll make sure she has everything she needs to recover from this. And I definitely owe you a huge favor. I still have friends at state, the Joint Special Operations Command, Homeland Security, all sorts of places. If you need anything, give me a call."
Will took the business card the man pulled out of a little silver case in his jacket pocket and fought not to crumple it up in his hand. The man might as well have said, Thank you for all you've done. Now get the hell away from my daughter.
Amanda Warren was no longer his concern. Which should not have been a problem. He'd never wanted to take care of a woman, to have that kind of responsibility, hadn't since he was a kid and couldn't save his own alcoholic, drug-addicted mother.
But he wanted to take care of Amanda. He'd just about cut off his arm for the right to do that.
Baxter, Ohio
Amanda had so hoped that was it, that her father kept pushing Will away from her, and Will kept doing what her father wanted. So all she had to do was get her father to stop saying whatever he was saying, and everything would be fine, right?
Will had come to Germany to find her. He'd come here, to her father's house, too, long before Amanda had ever figured out who he was and hunted him down.
Will had wanted to see her. That had to mean something.
"I remember in the hospital in Germany, hearing your voice. I don't remember what you said, but I remember your voice—"
"Amanda, it's not that. It's not your father—"
"No, he made you leave. I know it."
"He didn't make me go. I told you, nobody makes me go anywhere I don't want to go, unless it's people up the chain of command, and I've ignored them, too, at times—"
"I was so happy you came back for me. I wanted you to, so much. Will, I don't know what my father said, but you can't let that keep us apart. I'll tell him to stay out of this, and he will. I know it—"
"Amanda," he said more forcefully, "it's not your father."
"No. I remember. You came to Germany to find me."
Lundstahl, Germany
Slowly, Amanda started to become aware of sounds. No, it was more that she was becoming able to make sense of the sounds. Beeps. Blips. Footsteps. Sounds swirling inside her head slowly coalescing into words.
Ambassador.
She knew that word. That was her father.
Her father was here?
She'd like that, to have him close. She'd always felt safe with her father, and it seemed very important right then to feel safe.
She thought about trying to open her eyes, but it would take so much effort, and she was tired. Her head hurt, and it was hard to think. Time moved in odd ways, and she didn't understand what had happened, what was wrong.
She might have whimpered, made some sort of sound, because her father was there again.
"You're going to be fine," he said. "I'm right here with you. I won't go anywhere, I promise."
"Wait—" She'd heard those words before. Almost the exact words. That she was safe. That she would be fine. That he would stay with her.
Not her father.
Who was he?
Why did it seem like he was important?
"What happened?" she muttered, feeling like she'd said that a thousand times.
She was so confused. She couldn't re
member if anyone had answered her.
She found her father's hand and latched onto it, then thought it wasn't quite right. She remembered another hand, one that had felt like a lifeline to her.
I'll never forget you.
Yes! In her poor, muddled brain, she could hear another man's words.
God, I hate to leave you like this, hate the idea of you waking up and thinking I walked out on you.
No, he couldn't do that. He couldn't leave her.
What happened? What happened? What happened?
Her father kept whispering, trying to calm her down, but where was he? He was important. She needed him, and for a moment, she'd thought he was there.
The fog in her brain started to lift, and she wasn't as scared, didn't feel so alone or afraid. She could breathe easier, relax a bit. She was safe with him.
I was hoping I could to see her,
There it was, that voice.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
He was here! Everything was better with him.
I just wanted to know that she's okay.
She was if he was here! Okay. Better. Safe.
Amanda tried to tell him. She tried so hard, and then he was gone.
Where was he?
Baxter, Ohio
"Okay, yes," Will admitted. "I was there, and yes, when I saw your father in Germany, he didn't want me to see you. I came to this house, a few weeks later when I first got back into town, because I knew you were here."
"And he told you to leave me alone again."
"He did. You didn't remember what happened to you, and there was no way I was going to make things harder for you by bringing all that crap back. I told you that when you first came to see me at the shelter, and I meant it. I agreed with your father completely about that."
Amanda still couldn't accept that.
Her father could be so polished, so courteous, as humble as need be for his job. And if he needed to, he could stand up to kings, dictators and presidents. If ever a man was capable of going toe-to-toe with a badass Navy SEAL, it was her father. And he would have used whatever it took, if he thought he was doing the right thing for Amanda, to talk Will into staying away.
Like saying, You are not good enough for my daughter.
Amanda cringed at the thought.
"He fed you some kind of crap about not being good enough for me, and it is crap, Will. You are the best person I know. The bravest, the strongest—"
"Stop it!" He actually yelled at her, his voice so sharp she flinched. "Your father loves you. He would do anything for you—"
"So would you," she yelled right back. "Don't try to tell me you wouldn't. You have already. You always do. Whatever I've needed, you've given me."
"What your father said in Germany... yeah, he was kind of an ass. But when I showed up at this house, he wasn't as scared, as close to thinking he might lose you forever. He wasn't nearly as arrogant or dismissive of me. But he did say he knows what my life is like, how much I'm gone, how dangerous the job is, how hard on relationships, how tough a woman has to be to handle that—"
"So I'm not tough enough?"
"No. That's not what I said. That's not what he said."
"Then what did he say?" Amanda was yelling again, couldn't help it. So much depended on this. Her whole life.
"He said you lost your mother when you were a little girl, and that despite loving you like crazy, at times he couldn't be there for you, either, because of his job. So there you were, a little girl without a mother and sometimes without a father. So he'd asked you to be tough and strong and handle that, and he regretted that now. He wished he'd been there for you, the way a father should be—"
"He's a wonderful father," she cried. "We were this tough little team, me and him. We got through it just fine, and I'm proud of him. I'm so proud of what he does. He works so hard. He makes a difference."
"I know. I believe that."
"You make a difference, too."
Will ignored that. "Your father, when you were in Buhkai and you were so hurt and so scared, it ate him up inside. It still is. And he wanted you to finally have someone in your life who wasn't off trying to save the world, wasn't putting anything else ahead of you. He wanted someone to be here for you, take care of you, love you, because you'd never had that, and he thought you deserved it. I get that, Amanda. I want you to have everything, just like your father does."
"Fine. I want you."
He threw his head back and groaned.
"I don't want you to blame him for this. I don't want any misunderstanding about that, because I know you love him. I know you need him."
"Now you're going to tell me who I'm allowed to be mad at? Who I can blame for keeping us apart?"
"No—"
"That's what you just did, Will." God, he was the most annoying, stubborn man. How had she not seen that before?
"Amanda, I mean, no, that's not it. That's not the reason... I can't be with you."
And again, there it was. Like slamming into a brick wall.
God, what was it?
"What is it, then?"
He shot her a pleading look. It scared her, because he looked scared.
Nothing scared Will, except her being hurt or afraid.
He'd faced down armed militants who'd kidnapped her, and he'd single-handedly dragged her out of hell.
"Just tell me," she begged. "I can handle hearing it, Will, whatever it is. Tell me, and we'll deal with it."
"It's me," he finally said, looking so sad and vulnerable she started to cry for both of them.
"What about you?"
He was perfect. Maybe a little stubborn, maddening at times, but what man wasn't? He was still perfect to her.
"It's just... the way I am, Amanda."
"Okay," she said, softer now. He was talking, and she didn't want him to stop. "What way?"
"There's a part of me... There was a time in my life when things were so crazy, so out of control, that the only way I could handle it was to shut down. Everything. Everything I felt, especially."
"Okay. I can understand that." She hated it, him feeling that way, trying to cut himself off from his own feelings to survive.
"It got to be a habit. It got to be... just the way I am." He looked like he was confessing his deepest, darkest sin, his greatest shame. "Turning off every emotion. Distancing myself from everything and everyone in my life. I still do it. I've made my peace with it. It feels... not normal.... I know it's not that, but it's just... the way I am."
"Will, we all have our idiosyncrasies—"
"It's so much more than that. I don't feel things the way normal people do," he said. "I keep a certain distance between me and everybody else. It feels safer to me. I don't think that's ever going to change, Amanda. If I could change for anybody, it would be you, I swear. But I don't know how to do it. I'm sorry."
"Don't know how to do what? Feel? You're trying to tell me you feel nothing for me?"
"No. Not... nothing. Just not what you deserve. I don't love you the way you deserve to be loved. I don't know how. I won't let myself, and I want you to have that. I want you to have the best of everything, and that includes a better man than I am."
She shook her head. "Will, there's no better man for me than you."
He gave a curt laugh. "Of course, there is."
"Oh, my God, you really believe that?"
"Of course, I do. I know it."
Amanda sat back, made herself breathe, dried her tears. Now she knew. She understood. She just had to explain it to him in a way he understood, too, because he had to get this, or he wouldn't be with her.
"Let me try to say it this way," she began. "There have been men in my life I thought I was in love with, and men who said they loved me. But none of them have been as kind, as caring, as considerate, as sweet, as gentle or as loving to me as you have. None of them came close. Everything inside of me, everything I feel says you love me and you want to be with me."
He looked baffled, lost
, and still so sad.
"Okay, let's start with the easy part," she said. "You want to be with me?"
"I told you. You deserve—"
"Just answer the question, Will. Do you want to be with me?"
He looked like he wanted to argue, but couldn't quite decide which tack to take. He started to talk more than once and stopped, so she jumped in.
"Do you think I'm going to walk away from you one day?" she asked. "Or that I'll fall apart like your mother did, and you won't be able to put me back together again? I already fell apart, Will, and you already saved me. You put me back together. You got me through the hardest thing in my life. You were everything I needed, everything I could have wanted from someone who loves me. You already passed that test."
He didn't agree with her, but he wasn't arguing, either. He looked stunned, so she must be getting somewhere with him. She kept talking.
"So, if it's not that, is it me? Do you think I'll let you down one day?"
"No. I think you're perfect."
"Oh, I'm not. I'm a mess, but that's a conversation for another day—"
"I mean it. You're perfect. You're amazing and so brave and sexy and beautiful. Perfect."
"I think you're perfect, too." She smiled through her tears. "So, this problem? Is it just the words? About being able to say you love me or even believing in love? Because I don't need the words, Will."
"Of course, you do—"
"I don't care what you call it—these things you feel for me. I feel so clearly that you love me, Will. Everything you've done to take care of me, to help me, to put me back together, everything about the way you touch me, the patience you have with me, the way you make me feel... all of it says you love me. You don't have to give me the words."
"Amanda, I feel more for you than any other woman I've ever known."
"Okay. I'll take that, gladly. I don't think it even matters that much to me if you believe in love... Well, except that I'd like you to know what I mean when I say I love you, because I want you to have that, too. To understand it and believe it. But if the thing that holds you back is that word, love? I don't need it. Not from you."
"I want you to have it," he said.
"Why? I've had it before—men who said they loved me. Saying it is the easy part. What you do because of it is what matters, and with those other men, it didn't feel like this. It wasn't nearly this. You and the way you love me is the best thing I've ever had. It's more than I ever believed I could have, and it's more than I ever imagined feeling for someone."