One Christmas Wish

by Sara Richardson

  Isaac paused on a step and sneezed again. “If you don’t have to go, what’re we doing?”

  She strained her neck as though looking around for Cecilia. “We’re going to look through their medicine cabinet for allergy medication so you don’t swell up anymore.” You moron. She didn’t have to say it.

  “Surely they have Benadryl or something.” Julia motioned for him to keep moving. “We can’t let them find out you’re allergic to dogs.”

  “Right.” He stumbled up the next step. “It’s been a while since I’ve even been around one. I was hoping I’d grown out of it.”

  “Obviously not,” she said, eyeing his itchy face. “By the way. You can’t look so freaked out when I ask you to take me to the bathroom. We’re supposed to be married.”

  “It caught me off guard, okay?” He knew he sounded defensive, but it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if he wasn’t so attracted to her. What could he say? The thought of taking off her pants had a lot of appeal. Not that she’d want to hear that from him. “What about you?” He gazed down at her. “It’s like you didn’t even know what to call me. I mean, come on. Pumpkin?”

  “Married people call each other ‘pumpkin’ all the time.”

  “Yeah, if they’re sixty.” And mentally unstable. He turned to the side so they could fit down the narrow corridor at the top of the stairs. “Maybe we could pick something else. It’s not very manly.”

  “Fine. What did you have in mind?”

  He wrestled back a grin. “How about stallion? Or sexy? Superman? Something that would indicate my expert skill level in the bedroom.”

  Her face turned as red as his eyes had to be right now. “I wouldn’t know anything about your performance in the bedroom.”

  “I could give you an idea, if you—achoo!”

  Julia laughed. “That’s okay, thanks. I think I’ll pass. Not that snot isn’t sexy or anything.” She peered into an open doorway. “Oh! Here’s the bathroom.”

  Holding back another sneeze, he pushed his way inside and settled Julia on the counter so he could blow his nose.

  “We could always call you ‘foghorn’,” she offered innocently. “That would be accurate.”

  He would’ve retaliated if he could have breathed.

  While he blew his nose again, Julia pilfered through the contents of the Gaffneys’ bathroom cabinet. “Here!” She snatched out a bottle and held it out to him. “This is perfect. Generic Benadryl. It’s exactly what we need right now.”

  “Benadryl, huh? Never tried it.” But there was a first time for everything. Blinking against the sting in his eyes, Isaac cracked open the lid and chugged.

  “Whoa!” Julia swiped the bottle out of his hand. “I think you only need a couple of teaspoons. Not half the bottle.”

  “Just want to be sure. Don’t want you to lose Oliver.” He stole the bottle back and took another shot, then capped it and stashed it in the cupboard. “You really seem to like the dog.”

  Julia smiled at him, with the real smile, the one that had been engraved in all of his memories of her. “He’s so cute. And I do think he’ll make my life easier.”

  Yeah, she deserved that, a constant companion to love and serve her. He wished she’d let it be him, but she didn’t want that. Battling heavy disappointment, he nodded. “Then I promise…I’ll do everything I can to make sure they don’t find out we’re not married.”

  Even if it meant fooling himself in the process.

  Chapter Eight

  Oh Mylanta! When Isaac had made that heartfelt promise to make sure the Gaffneys never found out the truth, Julia had had no idea this would be what he meant.

  Since they’d sat down for dinner twenty minutes ago, he’d been touching her—resting his hand on her leg, massaging her shoulder, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. The whole time he’d had this crazy, lovesick grin on his face.

  She eyed his wine glass. Was it a good idea to drink wine after you’d overdosed on Benadryl?

  Suddenly the savory smell of bangers and mash went sour. Her stomach pounded with a nervous energy. She pushed the food around with her fork, trying to quell the bad feeling that rose up.

  “Let me refill your wine, mate.” Tollie reached for the bottle and poured Isaac another full glass.

  “Thanks, mate!” Isaac said way too loudly.

  Julia kicked him under the table. When his eyes met hers, he only offered her an adorably carefree grin. Well, it would’ve been adorable if she wasn’t so worried.

  While Tollie and Cecilia chatted jollily about their dogs, Julia leaned in. “Are you okay?” she whispered, pretending to nibble on his ear.

  “I’m better than okay,” Isaac said, his head tipping toward hers. Then he raised his hand to her cheek, gazing at her with warm, heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Julia.”

  “Awww.” Across the table, Cecilia sighed. “It’s so wonderful to see a young couple in love, isn’t it, Tollie?”

  Julia tried hard to smile, but panic crept up her throat. Isaac was wasted. Totally, completely wasted. Some men got mean when they were drunk. But not Isaac. Nope. Since high school, he’d always gotten over-the-top happy.

  He leaned in again, edging his lips right up against her ear. “I love you so much.”

  Oh good lord. “Love you, too,” she mumbled.

  “No. I’m serious. I love you.”

  “You must be the sweetest couple I’ve ever seen,” Cecilia bubbled. “Well, besides us.” She squeezed her husband’s hand. “When did you two loves know you were right for each other?”

  “In college,” Julia said firmly. Stick to the plan. They had to stick to the plan and keep it simple.

  But Isaac straightened and faced Cecilia, his expression dead serious. “I’ve always known.”

  Oh, shit. She closed her eyes to brace for the impending disaster.

  “When we were growing up…” Isaac went on in a wistful tone. “I knew I could never imagine my life without Julia.”

  Was that why he’d kissed another girl at the party that night? She was tempted to ask, but it wouldn’t do any good. Not now.

  “But we really fell in love in college,” she asserted while Isaac took a breather to drink more wine.

  The second he set down his glass, she discreetly stole it away and brought it to her lips, attempting to drain as much as possible. Hopefully the Gaffneys would think they just liked to share.

  Resting his hand high enough on her thigh to make her gasp, he looked over at her. “When I was in the Navy, I kept a picture of Julia with me all the time.”

  The wine glass froze against her lips. He what now?

  “Right here in my pocket.” He patted his chest. “I took it out to look at it every time I missed home. Or felt alone.”

  “Oh my.” Cecilia dabbed at her eyes.

  Julia tried to set down the wine glass, but her hand shook and she knocked it over.

  No one seemed to notice. They all stared at Isaac, captivated by his story.

  And hell, so was she. She couldn’t even breathe.

  “That picture gave me hope,” he said, still gazing at her. And now the silly smile was gone, replaced by a look that she could only describe as shameless longing. “Didn’t matter how bad things were. How dark. It gave me a light to get through. It gave me something to fight for.”

  Cecilia was crying now.

  Even Tollie sniffled.

  Julia’s eyes heated, too. “I didn’t know that,” she whispered. Was it true? Or part of the act?

  Isaac shifted and pulled out his wallet. He flipped through until he found something, then he handed it to her.

  “Oh my god.” It was her school picture from sophomore year, tattered and wrinkled. The words scrawled on the back were smeared but still legible. To Isaac—Thanks for always being there.—Julia xoxoxo

  Holding a hand over her mouth to trap the shocked gasp, she remembered how much she’d agonized over what to write on the back of that picture. It’d taken her a
week to think it through. That was two weeks before the accident.

  “So she might’ve fallen in love with me in college,” Isaac said quietly, taking the picture back and replacing it in his wallet. “But I’ve always loved her. Always.”

  “That’s so beautiful,” Cecilia murmured, sounding as awed as Julia felt. “Tell us more about your service, love. Where were you stationed?”

  While Isaac told them about his naval service in the Middle East, Julia stared blankly at her food. Maybe the combination of narcotics in his system had intensified his emotions. Because there was no way Isaac loved her. He couldn’t. He would’ve come back to her. Years ago. He would’ve found her.

  “Wow, what a meal.” Isaac pushed away his plate. “I hate to be a buzz kill, but I’m tuckered. I think I might have to call it a night.”

  He did looked tired. Wrecked. A side effect of the medication, most likely.

  “Of course!” Cecilia popped up. “You two should get back to the cabin and enjoy some time alone.”

  Julia leaned her back against the chair, wishing she could chain herself to it. “Oh, but I’d love to hear more about Oliver’s parents.” Yes, she was trying to stall. How was she supposed to go back and be alone with Isaac all night after what she’d just learned?

  “We’ll talk more at breakfast,” Cecilia assured her as she started to stack dishes.

  “Wait.” Julia gathered the silverware, clanging it together in her shaky hands. “If you have a stool, I can do the dishes.”

  “Nonsense.” The woman confiscated the silverware and shooed her. “You go back to that cabin with your husband, Julia. Don’t worry about anything except spending some quality time together.”

  Quality time. That was a lot more dangerous than Cecilia made it sound.

  * * *

  Didn’t think he’d be doin’ this anytime soon. Isaac carried Julia across the threshold and into their love nest. The sneezing and wheezing had gone away, but now his head ached like it used to when he’d blow off steam at the bar while he was on leave.

  Carefully, he set Julia in her chair next to the bed, then slumped onto the couch a few feet away, kneading his forehead, trying to feel normal.

  He’d said too much. Damn Benadryl. It was like truth serum. Now Julia wouldn’t even look at him. She hadn’t said two words to him, either, since he’d revealed that picture in his wallet. Damn, he really had a low tolerance these days. He’d known exactly what he was saying, but he didn’t care. He was tired of pretending to be married to her and yet also having to pretend he wasn’t attracted to her when they were alone. The whole thing took way too much effort.

  An awkward silence made the room feel even smaller. It seemed Julia wasn’t going to break it, so he had to. “Sorry about dinner.” He’d meant every word he said, but Julia obviously didn’t want to hear any of it. “I haven’t had much to drink since I came home. I should’ve stopped with the Benadryl.”

  Her expression was guarded, but at least she looked at him. “Why haven’t you had much to drink?”

  Not that he wanted to broadcast it, but… “I’ve been dealing with some stuff. Depression, mostly. Doc says alcohol can complicate things.”

  She wheeled herself close enough that he got a clear look into her eyes. They looked sad. “Did you see terrible things over there?”

  “Not as bad as other guys.” Compared to the Marines, he’d had it easy. Only lost three members of his team in a decade. Which wasn’t so bad, all things considered.

  “But it was still horrible?” she rasped.

  “You can’t go into a war zone without seeing horrible things.” Haunting things. They replayed in his dreams, mostly. Since he wouldn’t let himself think about them during the day.

  Shadows from the fire flickered across Julia’s face. “Is it hard to be back, Isaac?”

  It’d gotten easier since he’d seen her. Not that she’d want to hear that, either. “It’s funny. I wanted to come back for so long.” He’d wanted it like nothing he’d ever wanted in his life. He’d wanted to see beauty and good instead of the desolation, the unending destruction. “Then when I did, I realized everything had changed. Life moved on without me. I’d changed.” Wow. How did he find it so easy to talk to her? Most of the time he sat in his psychologist’s office in complete silence, the man nodding and jotting notes, even though he hadn’t said a damn word. But Julia…she’d understand more than most people. She’d had her fair share of trauma. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve already lived the most important part of my life, you know?” That was the hardest part of coming back. “I mean, what could possibly be left?”

  Her eyes closed and her hand flickered like she wanted to reach for him. He hoped to God she wouldn’t because one touch like that and he’d forget about giving her space and pull her right into his lap.

  “There’s so much left for you, Isaac,” she said, all confident and even, like she could read the future.

  He believed her. He knew that in his head. But there were days it was hard to convince the rest of him. “You get so used to being over there. Having that crazy sense of purpose every single day. Always being on alert, focused.” Being surrounded by the guys. The ones you’d sworn to protect. The ones who risked everything to protect you. “Then when you get out, you’re lost. Like you have to find a whole new purpose for your life.” And there was no one to show you how to do it. How to reintegrate into normalcy when you still carried the images of death, all of the regrets for what you’d been forced to do…

  “You’ll have a great life.” This time Julia did take his hand. She squeezed it tightly in hers. “You’ll get married and have kids and be the best dad.”

  He absorbed her touch, her strength. Somehow it made him feel more complete. “What about you, Julia?” What kind of life did she want?

  She pulled back, her eyes avoiding his again. “I’ll never get married,” she said, as though she’d been waiting to inform him of that fact for hours.

  The finality in her voice made him flinch. “What?”

  “I don’t want anyone to take care of me.” Her head shook. “I won’t force a man into waiting on me for the rest of his life.”

  “Waiting on you?” He could hardly talk, what with the anger crowding his throat. How could she write it off—how could she just accept that?

  “Yes. Waiting on me.” Her voice rose. “Doing exactly what you’re doing. Carrying me around. Getting stuff for me. It’ll get old after a while. Trust me.”

  He scooted to the edge of the couch. He wanted to shake her but he knew better. “You would do things for him, too. Don’t you see that?” How could she give up on ever having a significant relationship because of her limitations? “That’s what a marriage is, Julia. So sure, your husband would do things for you. Not because he feels obligated but because he loves you. Which means he wants to serve you.” God, if she gave him the chance, he’d gladly carry her around for the rest of his life. Small price to pay for Julia’s compassion and strength and…his gaze lowered down her body….

  Raising her hands to the wheels of her chair, she turned herself slightly so she faced the fire instead of him. Her chin had that stubborn lift. Reminded him of all the times he and Ben had told her she couldn’t tag along with them. “You can’t stop me,” she’d always say. And they knew she was right.

  But he wasn’t about to let this go.

  “You’d do things for your husband, too. You’d make him laugh.” Because Julia was funny as hell. “You’d tell him the truth.” She definitely wasn’t afraid of that. “You’d always be there for him. You’d make him happy.” Wasn’t that the point? “Marriage is giving yourself to the other person. In good and bad. Sickness and health.” Energy twitched through him as he reached for her chair and steered it back to him. “You have so much to offer someone. Don’t you know that?”

  With a hard tug on the wheels, she jolted away from him. “You don’t understand. You have no idea how it feels. I won’t hold anyone back,
Isaac. Marriage is not an option for me.” She wheeled herself to the other side of the room as if that was the end of the conversation.

  Heaving his weighted body off the couch, he followed behind her. “That’s like me saying I’m too damaged to have a relationship with anyone.” And he couldn’t hear that. “Everyone’s damaged, Julia.” He slipped in front of her so she couldn’t hightail it across the room again. “It might be more visible on you, but everyone has something to overcome.”

  Her eyes fired up as she pointed at him. “You’ll feel better someday. There’s medication, counseling. There’s hope for you, Isaac. I’ll never walk again.”

  He reeled back like someone had slapped him. Unbelievable. All this time, everyone thought Julia had risen above the accident, that she’d made peace with what had happened to her, that she accepted it. They were dead wrong.

  He dropped to his knees in front of her. “You say you’re fine with it. With everything that happened to you. But you’re not.”

  Her eyes reddened. “Yes. I am.”

  “You’re not.” An angry tension fortified his jaw. “Look how you fight everyone who wants to help you. Who wants to be close to you.” He reached over to hold her chin steady so she’d stop looking away from him. “Julia…did you ever let yourself grieve what you lost?” He only asked because that was the process he’d been walking through for the last month. “It’s part of moving past it. Dealing with it.” At least that’s what the doc had said.

  She slapped his hand away from her face. “When would I have done that? Between all of the surgeries? Between trying to convince my parents and my brother that it wasn’t their fault? You should’ve seen what the guilt did to them all, Isaac. It changed them.” She swiped angrily at the tears that trailed down her cheeks. “So no. Maybe I didn’t grieve. Maybe I just wanted to move on. That’s all I want. To move on.”

  His knees ached but he didn’t stand. He stayed there. On the floor. So he could be with her. “You can’t move on until you face it. Until you acknowledge what you lost.” He knew that. He’d tried, too.