“They also told me that your gear might be delayed,” she said, reaching for her purse, which she’d set on the ground at her feet.
She rifled through it for several moments before pulling an e-reader out. “I bought you a new one. I wasn’t able to log you in, but they told me there’s Wi-Fi and gave me the instructions so you can get everything downloaded.”
“Thank you,” I said, my emotions getting the better of me again.
She smiled and said, “No need to thank me. I was coming hell or high water. There was no way I was letting you be here for however long without at least one person you know and love coming to see you.”
I smiled at her and turned the e-reader on, looking at the instructions they gave her. A few minutes later, it was sitting on my bedside table, downloading books, and my mom and I were chatting about what was going on at home.
I saw her glance at my legs several times, but she said nothing or asked me about them.
“You can ask,” I told her during a lull in our conversation.
She noticeably swallowed, and her eyes went back to my legs.
“I’d offer to show you, but they just cleaned everything a little while ago.”
She nodded and looked back at me.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice wavering as she finished asking.
I told her, watching her carefully as I told her about being thrown by the blast, the searing of the metal into my flesh, and the pain of the shrapnel hitting me. I left out that I’d lain there for a while before medics got to us and I was in the best shape of the other people that were injured in my tent.
She didn’t need to know that. It would likely worry her more.
Once I finished telling her, she just nodded and changed the subject. And when the nurses came back later to clean them again and let them air, she left the room, only coming back once they were done.
She stared at my legs for the longest time before she started crying again and she left the room once more.
I wished I could go after her or say something to help her feel better, but I couldn’t do either. She had to work through what was plaguing her in her own way. The only way I could help was to just be there when she wanted to talk about things.
I was lucky. I would also likely have scars and a slight limp once I was healed up. But I was still lucky.
It just looked bad and recovery could take a while. There was no way to sugarcoat it. But it was what it was. I was learning to deal with it.
When my mom left for the night to head back to her room, I felt more positive than I had in a long time, and I was thankful that she could come see me, even if it was only for a week.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
BRITAIN
I WAS STUCK at the hospital for two weeks after my mother left.
I was healing nicely, and I thought I’d be able to leave sooner than that, but I was being sent home out of Frankfurt International and not through the military base, so they had to wait for approval for my travel before they discharged me.
By the time I left, I was walking with a cane, which made me feel like an invalid, but I could get around mostly by myself. I could take longer walks, the wounds on my left leg scabbed over and itched like a bitch and the burns on my right were a shiny red to herald new skin.
I was thankful—and worried—that I got a straight shot into the large airport closest to my home. So instead of having to deal with multiple layovers and being stuck in airports for an untold amount of time, I would be picked up right from the airport and driven the few hours home.
By the time we landed and I got through customs, I was ready to be off my feet and I was cursing myself for turning down the wheelchair they offered me. I shouldn’t have let my pride dictate that one. That was quickly becoming obvious.
When I walked through security on my way to baggage claim, I craned my neck to see if I could find either of my parents. When I’d asked, they wouldn’t tell me which of them were coming to get me and I hadn’t pushed. But I was expecting both of them to be waiting.
They weren’t. But August was.
I jerked to a stop when I caught sight of him standing to the side. He was scanning the crowd looking for me, and I had the urge to try to slink away. I could rent a car and drive home, even though the thought of having to use my leg that much made me wince.
It was too late for me to make a break for it, however, because I saw the moment his gaze zeroed in on me.
He started walking my way, and I stood where I was, frozen to the spot. I screamed at myself in my head to move, walk away, do something. But I couldn’t. I stood there and waited for him to reach me.
When he did, his gaze raked over me like a physical caress. I watched as he took me in, his gaze lingering on my legs long than the rest of my body, before bringing his eyes back up to my face.
“Hey,” I said after a few beats of silence, not sure how else to greet the man that ripped my heart out right before I left.
“Hey,” he returned, his voice hoarse.
We continued to stare at each other for several moments before he asked, his shoulders heaving, “Can I hug you?”
I nodded, not even thinking about my answer. I could do with a hug right then.
He stepped closer to me and folded me into his arms. My eyes fluttered closed, and I took in the feeling of being in his arms again.
He smelled and felt the same as the last time I’d hugged him. Being back in his arms was like coming home, and I could almost forget what we’d talked about and said to each other the last time we were together.
Almost.
And it was almost enough for me to just forget about it.
But I couldn’t because he’d confirmed that he’d never be able to get over me being in the military. Which begged the question of why he was at the airport and not my parents.
I pulled away from him and took a shaky step back, looking over him quickly before bringing my gaze to his.
“What are you doing here? Where are my parents?”
He shifted and looked uncomfortable for a beat before his expression cleared. “I asked them to let me come get you.”
I arched a brow, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me. Hope bloomed, and I didn’t want to be disappointed. “Why?”
He cleared his throat and said, “I was hoping we could talk about all this later…”
I continued to stare at him. After a few beats of silence, he said, “I wanted to come get you because I had to see you to see you were okay. I knew you were okay after your mom telling me… but…”
He sighed and looked away for several moments before looking at me again. His shoulders were heaving again and after inspecting his face, it looked like he might cry. “I’m sorry. I knew after you left that I’d fucked up and I should have reached out, but I didn’t. It scared me. But that doesn’t compare to how I felt when I heard you’d been injured and we waited to find out. I was with your parents while they were waiting and when they found out what happened. It was the worst having to wait for them to get information and pass it along. I didn’t like it and it made me realize that I was the biggest asshole and that I need to get over myself to make sure you’re in my life.”
I rocked back on my heel, shocked at what he was saying.
“What?” I asked stupidly.
He licked his lips and said, “I was a jackass. I shouldn’t have let you go without telling you how I felt and patching things up between us.”
I blinked at him stupidly, uncertain what to say in response.
He was saying everything I wanted him to say months before, and I was standing here like a bump on a log. Was I in the Twilight Zone?
He cleared his throat. “Let’s get your things and head back.”
I nodded and started to slowly walk, realizing how that I was idiotic to not have taken that wheelchair. August noticed and asked, “Do you want to sit up here while I get your things?”
I shook my head and stepped onto t
he escalator before him. “No. I can sit down there while we wait.”
Once at the bottom, I carefully stepped off and limped over to the board that told us where the luggage was coming out.
I saw my flight and started to slowly walk toward the carousel, which hadn’t started moving yet.
Once there, I saw a bench to the side and gratefully made my way to it, sinking down to sit, sighing as I did so.
“Do you want me to ask for a wheelchair for you?” August asked, coming to stand next to me on the bench, his gaze worriedly looking at me.
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I should be good after sitting for a few minutes.”
I hoped I didn’t grimace as I said that. I was lying through my teeth. I would give anything to just be able to lie down and not move, but that wasn’t in the cards for a little while. I’d have to wait.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes and the carousel beeped before rotating.
“What do your bags look like?”
“It should be a large purple suitcase. My duffel was destroyed.”
August nodded and said nothing, surprising me. I thought for sure he’d comment on the duffel comment.
Instead, as the luggage started coming down, he moved closer to the belt and inspected each suitcase that came down toward him.
I took the chance to study him from behind and think over our encounter thus far.
His hair was a little longer, and he looked more harried than he had the last time I’d seen him. But that wasn’t surprising considering what he’d shared earlier about being worried about me. I’d likely look the same.
He had dark circles under his eyes, giving further testament to his worry.
As much as I didn’t want to feel that way, I felt a flutter in my tummy at the thought of August being worried about me even though he said he’d never be able to support my being in the military.
There was still so much we needed to talk about and discuss, but with his words today, I had hope that we could have that conversation and come to a nice agreement instead of talking through anger and one of us leaving upset.
I had hope.
And it felt great.
August stepped forward and pulled a suitcase off, checking the luggage tag. He pulled it toward me. “Only the one?”
I nodded. Most of my gear had been destroyed. Only some of my clothing, which had been in a metal locker with some of my belongings, had survived. It was sad to realize that that I’d left with two bursting duffel bags and was coming home with one suitcase that was only partially full.
“Let’s head out then.”
August watched as I pushed myself to standing and we slowly started walking toward the short-term parking lot.
I was thankful when I saw that August had parked close to the door because the thought of having to walk through the parking garage for an untold amount of time made my body ache more than it already was.
He opened the passenger door of his truck and helped me inside before going to the back and putting my suitcase up.
By the time he got into the car, I’d already laid my seat back and my eyes were closed.
It was a long flight and my body was aching on top of the jet lag I was now feeling.
I thought for sure August would say something to me as he started the car, but he didn’t and I was quickly lulled to sleep by the swaying of the car, only waking once he parked outside my parent’s house.
After giving them both a quick hug, I’d immediately climbed the stairs—one of the most painful moments of my life—and immediately fell onto the bed, promptly passing back out again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
AUGUST
I WATCHED Britain go up the stairs and sighed as I put her suitcase by the front door. Her parents were standing at the foot of the stairs, looking at Britain's struggle.
I wanted to offer to help but had a feeling she might not appreciate it. But it was rough watching her go up. It was obvious she was in pain.
Once she disappeared into her room and the door was closed behind her, her parents looked at me.
“Everything went okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. She was surprised to see me.” I eyed the two of them and watched them blink at me with wide eyes. “You have something to do with that?” I asked.
“We might have forgotten to tell her we weren’t coming is all,” Rita said, smiling at me. “Nothing more.”
I pursed my lips. “Right.”
They just grinned. “Want something to drink or do you need to get home?”
“I’ll stick around for a bit.”
I didn’t mention that I was hoping Britain would wake up while I was still there and that I’d maybe get another chance to talk to her. I was sure her parents were hoping for the same, so I wouldn’t push my luck with that.
If I was there, and she would talk, then great. If I wasn’t, I’d get her another time.
I followed her parents into the kitchen and sat down on one of the stools around the kitchen island, Jon joining me while Rita pulled lemonade out of the fridge and poured it into glasses for us.
I smiled my thanks and took a sip, sighing as the cold drink slipped down my throat.
“She seemed tired,” her mother remarked, joining us at the counter.
“She just flew from Germany,” Jon said. “That’s to be expected. We’ll go check on her soon.”
I nodded. “She was tired when I got her and slept the entire way back. Not surprising considering her injuries and flight.”
We chatted for several more minutes and I finished my drink before standing. “Let me know if I can do anything,” I told them while putting my glass away and clapping them each on the shoulder before leaving.
I wanted to stick around and wait, but it would likely be awhile before Britain was up and she deserved time with her parents. I knew she had to be missing them. I’d get my chance to talk to her soon enough.
TWO DAYS LATER, I’d just gotten home from work when someone knocked at my door. I’d been stripping out of my work clothes, so I sighed as I put my arms back into my shirt and pulled it back on.
I reached the door and pulled it open, my eyes widening as I took in Britain standing there, leaning on her cane.
“Hey,” she said, smiling. “Can I come in?”
I nodded and stepped back, watching as she carefully navigated the lip to the front door.
“You want to sit inside or outside?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said as I shut the door behind her.
I waved my hand toward the living room and followed her as she stepped into the room and sank onto the couch.
I perched on the arm of the love seat and raked my gaze over her. She was looking better than she had when I picked her up from the airport.
“How are you feeling?” I asked her, taking her the healthy color that was already back into her cheeks.
“Better than a few days ago,” she said with a chuckle. “I overdid it at the airport and I paid for it yesterday. I couldn’t get out of bed.”
I winced. “Ouch. But you’re better today?”
She nodded and turned her cane in her hands. “Yeah. I took pain pills and stayed in bed, resting up. I didn’t get up today until later, and that helps. I’m sure I’ll be exhausted once I get back home, though.”
“I’ll drive you back,” I joked.
She smiled at me. “You’re so kind.”
We both laughed, and that helped to break the tension between us. I slid from the arm of the chair into the loveseat itself.
“Otherwise, you’re good?” I asked when she said nothing.
“Yeah. I feel mostly adjusted. Still tired, but I think that’s to be expected.”
I nodded. “I’d agree. I’m sure you’ll be up and moving in no time.”
“I hope so.”
Another prolonged silence passed between us before I cleared my throat and asked, “Sooo… what brings you over?”
She shif
ted in her seat and looked at her cane, playing with it again. I said nothing and gave her the opportunity to get her thoughts together. I knew what I wanted to talk about, but I didn’t want to rush her or put any pressure on her to have that conversation.
She looked back at me and I could see the determination there. “You said you regretted our last conversation.”
I nodded, and she continued, “I wanted to talk about that.”
“Okay…” I said, not sure exactly what she wanted me to say. I’d said pretty much everything I’d been thinking with it.
“Did you mean it? That you were a jackass and over it and that you’d support me?”
I blinked at her for a few moments before I nodded. “Yeah. The time away from you while you were deployed and once you were injured was the worst. I thought when we broke up when we were in college that it was bad. But that was nothing compared to the knowledge that you were in an active war zone and that you were injured and I couldn’t even go see you because I wasn’t anything to you.”
My heart started beating quickly the more I talked and my palms grew sweaty.
“I was scared shitless that I’d never get the chance to apologize to you for not only what happened right before you left, but also what happened back in college. Rich helped me realize that just because I don’t love the military doesn’t mean I couldn’t support you on your journey. They aren’t exclusive and I can deal with it. I just want you in my life.”
Silence greeted my words, and I stared at Britain, waiting to see what she’d say.
I wouldn’t be surprised if she got up and walked out. It had taken me years to realize what it was I should have been saying years before when we first talked about her entering the military.
I knew I’d hurt her before, and I knew I’d hurt her now by repeating history. I wanted the chance to make things up to her, but she had to give me that chance and I couldn’t push it. If she wasn’t ready, she wasn’t ready. And she might never be ready.
Vetted: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 22