He swallowed past the emotions in his gut. “You don’t get it, Beth. This is as good as it will ever get. My back is the ‘after’ shot. That’s after years of skin grafts, specialists and reconstructive surgery. It will never look better than that. Do you get it? This is who I am now.”
“So?” She raked her eyes up his length, angry and confused. “You think that means I can’t love you? Please, Kirk, please don’t tell me that’s why you broke up with me.”
When he didn’t answer, her fury increased. She followed him across the room and lifted her hand. She slapped him hard across the cheek. “How dare you?” She shouted, her hair flying around her face as she glared up at him. “Do you really think I’m so shallow and vain that I’d only love you if you continued to look like this?” She nodded jerkily towards his front, his Adonis body and male model face. “I love you! I always have! I don’t care if you turn purple and all those muscles turn to pudge! I love you!”
He lifted a hand and rubbed his cheek, distractedly. “It’s not just about vanity.” And she could tell that he was back in the past, from the way his eyes stared straight ahead, without really seeing. “The bomb almost severed my spinal cord. I was told I’d never be able to walk again.” Beth gasped, and he flicked his hard eyes to hers. “Never be able to make love again.” He winced. “How could I ask you to honor an engagement you’d made to an able bodied man? How could I ask you to marry what I was going to become?”
She reached behind her for the bed, and collapsed down on to it. “It wouldn’t have mattered to me,” she insisted.
“Of course it would have. You fell in love with me, but what you loved died in that war.”
She shook her head. “No. That’s not true. I loved you, every part of you.”
He let out a sigh. “You can say that now. Now that I’m here like this, looking almost like my old self. But if you’d seen me then, you would have wanted to run a mile.”
“How can you think that? Do you really believe my love was so fleeting? So juvenile?”
“I know that I loved you enough to give you up, Annabeth. I made the choice for both of us, and it was the right choice.”
“No, it wasn’t.” She dipped her head into her hands. “I understand why you thought you were doing the right thing. But you should have trusted me more.” She lifted her face and lanced him with her accusing gaze. “I considered us as good as married. For better or for worse. That was your worse, and you didn’t even give me the chance to stand by you.”
“I thought it would ruin your life.” He said cautiously. “I thought I was the only one suffering. I believed that you would carry on with your studies. Meet someone else. Marry someone else.” He closed his eyes, shielding himself from her penetrating stare. “I had no idea about Wade.”
“I know that.” She shook her head. “What a freaking mess.”
He stayed silent, staring at her, wanting her, loving her, knowing their story was too messed up to move past.
“Why did you come to Clearview?” She asked, her blue eyes thoughtful.
He came and sat beside her on the edge of his bed. He didn’t touch her, but he was so close she could feel his warmth. “I broke up with you when I thought I’d never walk again. I told myself I wouldn’t ask for you to take me back unless I was able to stand on my own two feet.” His voice was gravelly. “It took almost four years. Four years of rehab and operations. It was the most intense pain of my life, and the only thing that kept me going was the hope that maybe, just maybe, you would love me again.”
“What if I’d met someone else?” She asked, breathlessly, because it was all too much to compute.
He shrugged. “I would have left you alone. All I wanted – all I’ve ever wanted – is your happiness.”
Her heart was pounding against her ribcage. “So you came to Clearview looking for me?”
“Actually, I came looking for Horace.” He smiled at her, slowly, his eyes were a storm of feeling. “I wanted to ask his permission to propose again. I needed to explain myself to the other man in your life.”
She shook her head slowly from side to side. “Why didn’t you just tell me all this the first night we met.”
He sobered instantly. “Because you’d dropped out of school, and ended up working in your dad’s bar. Don’t you get it? I had risked everything in the belief that you’d be better off without me. That was the first time it occurred to me that your life hadn’t been smooth sailing.” He couldn’t help himself. He reached over and pulled her to him, holding her tight against his chest. “Plus, you kinda seemed to hate me.”
She let out a sad sound, a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I hated that you left me,” she whispered against his shirt. “I was so scared and completely alone. I didn’t tell anyone except Emma that you were the father. I came back to Clearview and let everyone think I’d had a one night stand at College. It was… not easy.”
“No.” He ran his hands up and down her back. “You have to believe me, Beth. If I’d known, for one second, that you were pregnant, I would have worked out a different way to handle all this.”
“I do believe you,” she said simply. “But I’m still so mad at you I could scream.”
“How could I ask you to put up with me, like that? You would have been my nursemaid, not my wife.”
“Jeez, Kirk. It’s not like I thought you’d go to Afghanistan with a guarantee of a safe return. The risks were always pretty damn high. I thought you were dead!”
“I know.” He shook his head. “In some ways this felt worse than death.”
“Don’t,” she snapped, pushing his shoulder. “That dishonors you and every other soldier that comes back physically altered. What I love is in here,” she dipped her head and pressed a kiss against his chest, where his heart was beating thickly. “And in here.” She stood and kissed the top of his head.
“How can you love me after what I did?”
“The only thing you did was not have enough faith in my love for you, and the degree of our commitment. And that, I can forgive.”
“I left you with Wade. I hurt you. I know I did.”
“Damn right you did. Even when you came back and threatened to take our son away.”
“I never would have, Beth, I just needed to find a way to give you money. I felt so guilty. So guilty for not being there, for not being able to help you in the simplest of ways.”
She nodded. “I know. It was still despicable. But Kirk, not once did I ever think I stopped loving you. I never even looked at another guy. I’m just… yours, and always will be.”
He looked up at her beautiful, flawless face and shook his head. “But my back…”
“Is proof that you’re a living miracle,” she interrupted him. “Every time I look at your back, do you know what I’ll be thinking?”
“Hmm?” He prompted.
“That I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Those scars are a reminder of what could have been. They’re a sign of what you went through to come back to me.”
“I don’t… believe you.” Only, how could he not? Truth was written on every crease in her face.
She squeezed his shoulder insistently. “Baby, what would you have done if our positions had been reversed?”
He thought about it, pressing his head against her flat stomach. “I’d have been with you every step of the way.”
“And I would have been there for you. We can’t go back in time, but I swear to you, I am not letting you do this to us again. If you want to be with me, then this is it. We make the decision now, and live with whatever life throws at us together. Side by side, we face the future. So? What’s it to be?”
He looked at her, his heart bursting, his body tingling. “Is it even a choice? Annabeth Sparks, you are, without a doubt, the most amazing woman on the face of the earth. I was born to be with you. Please, will you let me slide that ring back on your finger.”
She nodded, tears falling freely now. But they were tears of happiness and
relief. Finally, she could breathe.
He reached behind him to the bedside table, and pulled the solitaire out. It still fit like a glove, just as he did.
EPILOGUE
One year later, exactly.
“Come on, son, give your mama a break and spin me ‘round the dance floor,” Horace called across the crammed Harvest festival.
“Glad to, Pops,” Wade shouted back, sprinting through the crowds to stand on Horace’s steel tipped toes.
At five years old, he’d had a growth spurt. He was still one of the smallest guys in his class, but he looked near enough his age. And what he lacked in size, he made up for with personality and smarts. Annabeth watched, a smile on her face, as her father and her son danced goofily amongst the more serious festival goers.
A.J’s set was in full swing. He was belting out a mix of original material and classic covers, and the crowd was going wild. Since marrying Emma Whittaker, Clearview residents had overlooked the fact he was from Austin. They’d adopted him thoroughly as one of their own.
“Hello, Mrs Robinson,” Kirk said, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist and pulling her back against his flat wall of abs.
She spun in the circle of his arms and looked up at him. Her eyes held the same glow they always did when she looked at him. Every day was a blessing, especially because she knew what life was like without him in it.
“Hi,” she smiled up at him. “I’m glad you finally made it.”
“Sorry to keep you. I had to go check things at the pier.”
“And? How’s it looking?” Kirk’s project was becoming an obsession for the whole town. The prospect of the restored structure was an exciting one.
“Well, we’ve just broken ground, so to speak, but I can tell you that it’s going to be pretty special.” He smiled down at her. “Almost as special as my wife.”
She rolled her eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Robinson.”
He pulled her closer, so that she could feel the force of his erection. “What a shame. I might have to think of another way to get back in your good graces.”
She nodded wordlessly, her cheeks flushed, her breath hitched in her throat with pleasurable anticipation.
“Your dad still minding Wade for the night?”
“Yeah. He and Cass are going to head home after this.”
“Great. Let’s go. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Her life with Kirk had been a never-ending string of surprises. He was constantly planning trips, buying gifts, bringing her breakfast in bed; a million ways that all added up to show her, every day, how much he loved her.
For once, though, Annabeth suspected she might have planned her own surprise, and she couldn’t wait to spring it on him.
He’d set up a picnic on the beach in front of their home. The house she’d been so angry at him for foisting on her was now their sanctuary. Kirk had converted the whole basement area into a combined rehab/office space for him. Somewhere he could do his exercises every day and keep up with the requirements of his job.
“I packed your favorites,” he said, straightening the blanket so that she could sit down.
Annabeth looked at him skeptically. “You did?”
“My assistant did,” he clarified with a mollifying smile.
“Almost the same thing,” she winked at him.
“Champagne?” He handed her a flute and she took it without tasting it.
“Are we celebrating?”
“We sure are,” he agreed with a smile. He leaned back, looking at the way the dusky sky was kissing the Gulf of Mexico.
“Oh?”
“One year of life with you, Mrs. Robinson. That deserves a toast, don’t you think?”
She nodded, following his gaze and looking out to sea.
“I arrived in Clearview thinking I had hardly any chance. That the prize I’d worked for all those years would surely be out of my reach. But here you were.”
“Waiting for you,” she said, a small smile on her lips.
“I just wish I hadn’t missed so much. So much of Wade’s life, especially.”
“But you’d never know it now, looking at the two of you together.”
“I don’t have any words to describe how lucky I am, Beth.” He fixed her with a serious gaze, one that set her soul on fire. “I don’t think life could get any more perfect.”
Beth nodded slowly, and the smile that spread across her face told him something was afoot.
“You look very mischievous,” he pondered, moving to her side.
“That’s because I have a surprise of my own, Kirk Robinson.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes.” A quick frown flickered across her face. “And I am almost certain you’re going to like it.”
“Only one way to find out,” he prompted, scanning her face questioningly.
“You, me and Wade are going to get a new little soul to love.”
His frown was one of confusion. “Am I … Did I get that right? Do you mean…?”
She laughed, and rubbed her still-flat stomach. “Yep. Dan reckons I’m about three months gone.”
“Oh, hell!” Kirk jumped up and whooped through the air, his whole body expressing his joy. He cried out again then came to kneel beside her. “Honey, I’m thrilled. I was wrong before. Now I think life couldn’t get any more perfect.”
He pulled her against his chest and kissed her on the lips. It was achingly sweet and desperately hungry. Slowly, he lowered her back to the sand, keeping his lips on hers. “And this time, I get to be by your side for all of it. Any nasty cravings or midnight snack requirements, I’m your guy. Foot rubs around the clock. Whatever you need.”
She grinned against his mouth. “I knew I married you for a reason.”
“You did. You married me because I’m hopelessly, completely in love with you, and you were kind enough to put me out of my misery.”
“To put us both out of our miseries,” she corrected, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight.
Life was full of twists and turns, unknown detours and unexpected rewards. In a million years, Annabeth Sparks never thought her road would rejoin Kirk’s. But now that it had, she knew they’d travel through life side by side, for all time. And there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
THE END
Following is an excerpt from Clare Connelly’s first novel in The Hometown Hero Series: A SECOND CHANCE AT LOVE. Available to purchase or borrow now.
A SECOND CHANCE AT LOVE
Clare Connelly
All the characters in this book are fictitious and have no existence outside the author’s imagination. They have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names and are pure invention.
All rights reserved. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reprinted by any means without permission of the Author.
The illustration on the cover of this book features model/s and bears no relation to the characters described within.
First published 2015
© Clare Connelly
CHAPTER ONE
A lone seagull flapped slowly along the shoreline, echoing Madeline May Howard’s own sense of complete and total oneness. A harsh wind tore off the Atlantic, threatening to pull loose some of her sophisticated blonde chignon.
It did not, though.
Madeline’s hair would never move without her express approval. She’d learned long ago that no good could come from obeying every whimsy and flippant fancy. And her hair, make up and clothing seemed to resonate with that same sense of obedience.
“You don’t want to get too close to the edge, ma’am.” A small voice was almost lost on the breeze, but Madeline caught the final word. It occurred to her that it was odd. For two reasons. Firstly, those common civilities she’d been raised with seemed to belong to a bygone era now. At only twenty-eight, she often felt like a relic in the fast paced world in which anyone with a mobile phone could become a YouTube sensation. Six years in Ivy Le
ague colleges gaining an elite law degree, and her biggest professional successes came only when she sold a great sob story to the hungry followers of social networks. It was the place most people seemed to get their news, and now, her team went first to Facebook, twitter and YouTube, rather than CNN, if they wanted to get a case out to the world.
The other reason the polite term struck Madeline as odd was that it made her feel old. She looked wistfully at the churning waves, rendered lead-grey by the storm-plagued sky, and remembered the last time she’d been on this shoreline. Then, she’d run, as a free spirit. Barefoot, sand sticking to her exposed limbs, long hair flying disobediently and tangled in the breeze, a smile spreading from ear to ear on her fair face.
Not a trace of that girl remained now.
She trained her Louboutin pumps away from the stone wall that led to the sand beneath, and scanned the grass foreshore for the owner of the small voice. On one of the rickety old benches that had been placed throughout the township of Whitegate, Maine – the same benches that had been there for as far back as Madeline’s memory stretched – sat a small, dark haired girl.
Madeline was late. She’d taken her time in the town, picking out the changes here and there, and the overwhelming, saddening similarities everywhere. It had been a long time since she’d been in Whitegait. Several years. So she’d taken her time, and that time had made her very, very late. Her father abhorred lateness. Even in his current state, he would no doubt summon the energy from somewhere to deliver one last, biting lecture to her when she finally returned to the ranch. His lectures, delivered with a cold, unflinching cruelty, were as reliably unkind as Whitegait was beautiful.
It was ungenerous to think of Kenneth in that way. He was, after all, surely only days from death. That certainty did nothing to her heart. It certainly didn’t make her grieve. No. His inevitable passing was not something she was prepared to mourn, except perhaps in an abstract way, as it signaled the end, forever, of what could and should have been her life. It was a credit to her generous nature that she didn’t rejoice and swing her arms in the air, for only with the passing of Kenneth Bartlett the Fourth would Madeline finally start to think of herself as free.
Raising the Soldier's Son: So what if they share a history? That's in the past. And it's staying there. (Hometown Hero Series Book 3) Page 12
