Soldier's Heart: a Wounded Love novel

by Megan Green

  I snatch the bag from his hands and scurry up the stairs. The big double doors that greet me at the crest of the stairway read Bridal Suite. Well, I think to myself, at least it was easy to find. Rapping my knuckles against the door, I press my ear against it, trying to detect any sound of life inside. Hopefully, they haven’t gone down already.

  The door swings wide, revealing Amanda in the same blue dress currently hanging from my fingertips. I throw my arms around her as Haylee rushes over to us. The three of us collectively move over to the large bed—why is there a bed in the bridal suite, anyway? Just in case the bride gets a sudden case of narcolepsy?—hugging and giggling as we greet each other for the first time in months.

  “I can’t believe you’re getting married today!” I squeal in Haylee’s ear.

  “I know!” she squeaks back at me.

  Amanda pulls away from the both of us. “Can you two take it down a decibel or two? I don’t particularly love the idea of going deaf before I’m thirty.” I smile. There’s the Amanda I know and love. Always so acerbic. And always ruining the freakishly girly moments between Haylee and I. Though I guess I should thank her for putting an end to the embarrassing display before somebody arrived to witness it.

  I take a look around the enormous room surrounding me. The huge bed takes up only a small corner of the massive sitting room. There’s a gorgeous chaise lounge in the opposite corner, a wall of mirrors sprawling out next to it. A vanity takes up residence near the window, the sweet, delicate chair perched in front of it a true work of art. A doorway leading to what I’m assuming is a bathroom is across from the vanity. And everywhere I look is white. White walls. White carpet. White curtains. White furniture. White. White. White. As far as the eye can see.

  I look at my dog fur covered work clothes, praying I haven’t tracked any dirt or excrement into the immaculate room. I sigh in relief. Everything still appears to be in order, but I better get changed quickly before I mar the snowy furniture.

  I slip into my dress, and the three of us spend the next half hour sipping champagne and gossiping like old times. It feels good. It isn’t until then I realize how much I’ve missed my friends these last few months I’ve spent distancing myself. I mentally kick myself for being such an idiot. But at least I have the world’s most understanding friends. I smile at Haylee and Amanda as they lean into each other, clutching their stomachs from laughter. I honestly couldn’t ask for better people in my life.

  When it’s only twenty minutes until show time, Amanda and I help Haylee into her wedding dress. She’s chosen a traditional white strapless dress with what is quite possibly the poofiest skirt on earth. The yards of fabric gather around her, making it appear as if she’s almost walking on a cloud. She looks stunning, and I don’t waste any time in telling her so.

  She beams at me. “Thank you. You don’t think it’s too much?”

  I shake my head vehemently. “Absolutely not. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Ryan is a lucky man.” Her eyes gloss over, and I quickly grab a tissue, thrusting it into her hand. “No, no, no,” I say as she blots her eyes. “None of that. Your eye makeup is gorgeous. No ruining it.”

  She gives me a soft, sad smile as she blinks back her tears. “You’re right. It’s just, I wish Chris could be here. For you. And for Ryan.”

  I feel the lump rising in my throat, and I swallow it back before I’m the one who needs a tissue. Amanda puts a hand on each of our shoulders.

  “He’s here. You honestly think anything could keep that man away from his best friend’s wedding? He’s here, I know it.”

  A soft knock at the door interrupts our little moment. I head toward it, silently grateful for the distraction. Joey greets me in the doorway, a nervous smile on his face.

  “It’s time.”

  “Em, I need you,” Haylee says as we step in front of the doors leading into the chapel downstairs. I stop, grabbing both of her hands as I turn to her.

  “I’m right here. Just tell me what you need.”

  “I need you to walk me down the aisle.”

  My mouth gapes, and I look between her and Amanda in bewilderment. “But—”

  “I need both of you,” Haylee interrupts me. “I want you both by my side as I walk down that aisle. I need both of my best friends next to me as I take my final steps before pledging my love to the man of my dreams. Please?”

  Amanda grins at me from where she stands on the opposite side of Haylee. I’ve known all along the plan was for Amanda to walk Haylee down the aisle. As her oldest friend in the world, it was pretty much a given. Haylee’s father has never been a part of her life. And her mother had been the worst excuse for a mother in all of mankind. So it had made sense that the one person who’d always been there for Haylee would be the one to give her away.

  But I never expected this.

  “Are you sure?” I manage to squeak out, my voice thick with the tears I’m desperately trying to hold back.

  Haylee nods at me with absolute certainty. “Yes. Amanda and I discussed it. And we’re both in agreement. It’s only fitting my two best friends give me away. So, what do you say?”

  A stray tear escapes and slides down my cheek. “Of course I will.” My voice breaks slightly as Haylee brings her hand to my face and swipes away the tear.

  “None of that, remember?” She smiles at me, gripping my hand firmly in her own. Amanda grabs hold of her other hand before nodding at the ushers on either side of the large double doors. They swing them open in unison, and the music in the room changes as everyone in attendance rises to their feet.

  Haylee’s grip on my hand tightens, and I hear her inhale sharply. Her eyes are on her feet as we take the first few steps into the chapel. I give her hand a light squeeze, and she peers over at me, her eyes shrouded by her thick lashes. I nod, smiling softly in encouragement. She exhales deeply before finally lifting her gaze.

  The look on Ryan’s face the moment her eyes meet his is astounding. It’s a look of such pure love. Such complete adoration and devotion. My breath catches at the knowledge of being in the presence of so much love and tenderness. I look at Haylee, and every single emotion I’d seen in Ryan’s eyes is reflected in her own. Her steps quicken, and she’s all but dragging me and Amanda down the aisle behind her. It’s as if she can’t wait another moment to be in his arms. In fact, I’m pretty sure if she didn’t have me and Amanda holding her back, she’d be full on sprinting down the aisle in order to reach him faster.

  When we finally make it to the altar, Ryan takes a step down, reaching out to take Haylee’s hand. She turns to Amanda, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before leaning into me.

  “Thank you for everything,” she whispers into my ear, feathering her lips against my own cheek. I squeeze her back before moving to take my place next to Amanda. Across from me, Joey stands next to their old Army captain, Sergeant Wells. Amanda’s husband, Justin, stands next to them. And right next to where Ryan stands is a chair, Chris’s service cap and the folded flag I’d received at his funeral perched on the cushion. Ryan had said there was no way he’d be able to get married without Chris by his side. The chair had been brought in as a representation of his fallen friend.

  I choke back a sob at the sight. My eyes find Joey’s, and he winks, bringing his right hand to his chest as he taps his thumb against it with his fingers splayed wide, American Sign Language for the word “fine.” I smile. This was something we’d used to do whenever things got to be too much. In the early days after Chris’s death, when the hurt had still been so fresh, yet everyone had insisted on asking how we were doing. The acceptable response was always “fine,” even though we were feeling anything but. So it had sort of become our thing. If either of us was ever feeling overwhelmed, we’d sign the one word neither of us ever wanted to speak aloud again, and the other would come running.

  Joey’s reminder of our old pact calms me, and I release a breath I hadn’t been conscious of holding. I sign back to him, nodding to let him
know I really am fine this time.

  The pastor begins his sermon, speaking of love and honor and commitment. You know, the usual wedding stuff. Honestly, after a few moments of listening to his stale tone, I tune him out. Instead, I bask in the love surrounding me. I stand and watch my best friend look at her soon-to-be husband like she’s the luckiest girl on earth. And I think to myself, that’s the true testament of love. It’s not in those words written hundreds of years ago. It’s not in the things society deems acceptable, the standards by which we’re supposed to live our lives. Love is the way Ryan looks at Haylee, as if she’s the most precious thing in the world. It’s the charged air between them, as if the few steps separating them is too great a distance. The pure, unadulterated love these two have for each other is inspiring. And for a moment, I allow myself to think.

  What if? What if Chris had survived? What if it had been someone else? Not that I wish Ryan or Joey would have been killed. But why Chris? And what would our wedding have been like? Would we have had a large ceremony in a church? Would I have worn a big poofy dress like Haylee’s? Or would we have ended up forgoing all of it and eloped to Vegas? Just the two of us. Maybe get married by Elvis. Whatever it would have been, it would have been perfect because it would have been with Chris.

  And shockingly, standing here amongst all my best friends, thinking about what could have been, all I can do is smile. Sure, I can feel the tears pricking in the corner of my eyes. But they’re not out of anger or pain. They’re out of happiness. Happiness for two of my very best friends. Happiness over being lucky enough to know this kind of love at one point. Happiness for the time I had Chris, however brief it might have been.

  A sudden realization hits me. I’m no longer angry. I am able to think back on our time together and remember it with joy. I can smile at the memories I have of him. His silly antics. His hilarious personality. The fact that no matter where he went, he instantly made friends with everyone. He was just that kind of guy. People were drawn to him.

  I can respect the fact that he died doing something he loved. Something he was proud of. And while I might never be able to forgive the man who killed him, I’m no longer angry at the Army for his being there. He knew what he was getting into, and he went readily. Enthusiastically, even, because it was something he was passionate about. Fighting for the freedom of his country meant the world to him. If there was one characteristic that defined Chris, it was his selflessness. His amazing ability to put the needs of others before his own. I will always be proud of him for that.

  The pastor’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “The bride and groom have each prepared a little something they’d like to share.” My eyes fly to my friend and her almost-husband. I had no idea they’d written their own vows. The pastor turns to Haylee, nodding at her to begin. She takes a deep breath, clears her throat, and speaks.

  “Ryan, I want you, and everyone here with us today, to know you saved me. When you came into my life, I was lost. I tried to tell myself I had it all together, but the only person I was really fooling was me. I was living a lie. My days were dark. My nights, desolate. I was stumbling along, living half a life, until you found me. Until you showed me what it truly meant to live. And love. You showed me the meaning of true love. It isn’t just something we read about in fairytales, the handsome prince swooping in to save the princess, the two of them riding off into the sunset and living happily ever after. True love is about saving each other. It’s holding on to each other on a cold winter night. It’s laughing at your awful attempts at humor. It’s watching John Hughes movies with me until you think your eyes are going to bleed,” a soft laugh breaks out amongst the onlookers, and Haylee smiles. “And it’s being there for each other through it all. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful. You taught me that. I’ll never be able to repay you, but I’ll start by vowing to be the best wife I can possibly be. To try to be to you what you are to me. Which is…everything. You’re my whole world, Ryan Porter. And I love you so much for it.”

  I sniff, wiping the tears that have formed in my eyes at my friend’s beautiful words. I look at Ryan, seeing a thin stream of tears trickling down his own cheeks. He closes the small distance between them, taking her face in his hands. He tilts her head back slightly, forcing her eyes to look directly into his. He bends his head to hers, and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss her. I hear the pastor clear his throat, as if trying to remind them it’s not time for the kiss yet. But instead, Ryan stops just before their lips touch, his face only inches from hers. He gazes into her eyes for long moment. And when he speaks, his voice is so soft the entire congregation takes a collective breath, holding it in so as not to drown out his words.

  “I. Love. You,” he begins, punctuating each word. “I’ve thought long and hard about what to say to you today. What words could possibly convey the strength of the feelings I have for you? I searched high and low, in English, Spanish, French, and Italian. And you know what I found? Nothing. There is not a single word in existence that rivals the power of the love I feel for you. I cannot wait to spend every single day with you for the rest of my life, Haylee Jordan. You make my life whole. You are the reason my heart beats. My sun rises and sets with you. You said I was your whole world. You…you, Haylee—you are my entire fucking universe.”

  Everybody gasps. A laugh bubbles in my chest, and I’m unable to contain it from bursting from my lips. Ryan turns and winks at me. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s sworn in a church. He dropped a couple f-bombs during his speech at Chris’s funeral too. The man obviously doesn’t know the meaning of the words “sacred space.”

  The pastor looks around uncomfortably, as if unsure what to do next. Ryan looks to him, at least having the humility to look sheepish. “Go ahead.”

  The pastor stumbles over his words a bit, but is finally able to pronounce Haylee and Ryan man and wife. A loud whoop echoes through the corridor, and everybody claps. Ryan plants the biggest kiss on Haylee I’ve ever seen. After a few moments, when it’s clear the two of them aren’t coming up for air anytime soon, Joey leans in and taps him on the shoulder.

  “Alright, Romeo, that’s enough. Save some of it for the wedding night.”

  Ryan presses a few more soft kisses to Haylee’s lips before finally pulling away. He grabs her hand and throws both his arms in the air, taking Haylee’s with him. She throws her head back in laughter as he sweeps her into his arms and carries her back down the aisle, pausing to chat with friends and family as they go. He never once puts her down though. His arms stay firmly wrapped around her body the entire ten minutes it takes them to make it up the aisle.

  I’ve never seen two happier people in my life.

  “Wanna dance?”

  Joey comes up behind me, grabbing my hand and whisking me off my chair. I giggle, slightly drunk at this point in the after party. We’ve been at the reception for a couple hours now, and it’s finally winding down. The entire evening has been a whirlwind of pictures, speeches, food, and dancing. I’ve loved every minute of it. But now that it’s quieting down, I can admit my feet are killing me.

  “Do we have to? I feel like I’ve walked at least a thousand miles today. In three inch heels, no less,” I add, raising my eyebrows and pursing my lips into a smug line.

  Joey lifts me, spinning me around. “Kick them off. Nobody will notice.”

  I do as he says, and he sets me back on my feet, pulling me against him. He moves with such grace and ease you would never suspect he has a prosthetic leg hidden beneath those slacks. He lost his left leg in the same roadside explosion that killed Chris. Watching him learn to walk with his new leg was difficult. He had a lot of long, hard days. A lot of frustration and heartache. But looking at him now, it’s difficult to remember those days. He’s just Joey now. Loyal, carefree, content Joey.

  He spins me under his arm and pulls me back into his arms.

  “What are we doing here, Em?”

  The confusion I feel must show on my expression b
ecause he laughs.

  “I mean, what are we doing? You know. Look at Haylee and Ryan.” We both turn and look to where they’re locked in each other’s arms on the dance floor, oblivious to anyone around them. He continues. “Look at how happy they are. We deserve that. We need that.”

  I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes wide with shock. “Uh, what? Where—”

  “Ew,” he interrupts. “Don’t be gross. I don’t mean we we. Dude, you’re like the little sister I never had. I just mean we both deserve what they have. You know. With other people.”

  I exhale. Now that I know he’s not trying to come on to me, I slap him playfully on the arm. “What do you mean ew, you ass?”

  He laughs. “Oh please. You know you’re gorgeous. I just mean…no. Just no. I can’t even try to think of you that way. It makes my stomach queasy. But you know I love you.”

  He dips me as he says this so I can’t smack him again, but I do know what he means. Over the past few years, people have often made the assumption Joey and I were a couple. And I guess I can see why. We spend a lot of time together with the business. The house is technically mine, but he was staying over so often after long days of dog training and home repairs, it made sense for him to move in. But we’re just friends. Like he said, he’s like the brother I never had. Ryan had Haylee to help him heal after Chris died. Joey and I had no one. So, we sort of bonded in our shared grief. We helped each other heal, in our different ways, my dog Maggie playing a huge part in both of our recoveries.

  We finish the dance and make our way back over to the table I’d been sitting at. I pull my phone out of my clutch to check the time. It’s later than I thought. I turn the screen to Joey so he can see the time.

  “Woah, almost eleven already? I wonder how late these two lovebirds are planning on partying. I don’t want to fall asleep behind the wheel.”

  And as if the wedding gods hear us, a few minutes later a voice comes over the speakers, announcing Haylee and Ryan will soon be making their escape. All of the unmarried women are ushered to the base of the staircase, where Haylee will be tossing her bouquet. I have no desire to participate in this anarchy, but if I know Haylee, she won’t throw it until I’ve joined the fray.