Soldier's Heart: a Wounded Love novel

by Megan Green

  I smile at him. “He means a lot to me too.”

  “Good. He still has a long ways to go, and I can promise you there will still be plenty of dark days ahead. But I can also promise you this—that man out there is worth every single second of the pain. He may put you through some shit while he tries to get through this, but he will get through it. Not today. Not next week. But someday, he will be the Isaiah Wright I used to know. And that man is the best man I’ve ever met.”

  Tears fill my eyes at his words. “He’s already one of the best men I’ve ever met.”

  Jim closes his eyes. “So imagine what he’ll be like when he’s healed. You can help him get there, Emma. I know you can. So please, do it. Remember this during the hard times ahead of you. Remember my advice. Because you will never regret letting that man love you.”

  I wipe a tear from my cheek as I watch Jim’s head drift to the side, his breath evening out. The medication must’ve kicked in, because he’s out like a light. I take his hand in mine, smoothing my thumb over the scarred skin. “I promise, Jim. I’ll take good care of Isaiah.”

  I quickly compose myself, splashing some water on my face in attempt to cool my flushed skin and wash away all traces of my tears. When I feel presentable, I step outside the door, running into Isaiah and the nurse in the hallway.

  Janice smiles at me as she moves past me into the room. I take Isaiah’s hand, and we make our way down the hallway.

  When we get back to the truck, Isaiah wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “What was that about?”

  I shrug. “He wanted to talk to me. Make sure I had honorable intentions. You know, the normal best friend stuff.”

  He laughs softly. “Was he at least nicer about it than Amanda was?”

  I giggle. “Of course, but you have to admit, Amanda has a certain…charm about her, don’t you think?”

  He smiles. “Sure. That’s one way of putting it.”

  I swat at him with the back of my hand, but I know he’s joking. Amanda may be a bit gruff, but once you get to know her, you can’t help but love her. Isaiah included.

  He backs out of the parking stall, his thoughts returning to Jim.

  “I’m going to have to talk to his doctor. They need to do something about those meds they’ve got him on. They’re making him delusional. I’ve never heard him talk like that before,” he says with a smile. I laugh softly. But something tells me Jim knew exactly what he was saying. He was saying goodbye.

  Isaiah and I sit on the beach, the small waves colliding against the sand and spraying us with a fine mist. He was a bit confused as to why I wanted to go to the beach after visiting Jim, but I’d told him I felt like being in the sun. He’d seemed skeptical of my answer, giving me several sideways glances as we drove. But he never objected. After we’d parked, I’d grabbed a blanket from the backseat of his truck and led him to the spot I’d arranged with Beth, slightly south of a gorgeous beach house. He’s now sprawled out next to me, leaning back on the heels of his hands. His eyes close, and he lifts his face into the sun. He looks so serene. It’s breathtaking. My big, beautiful man paints an amazing picture when he’s relaxed. I take a mental snapshot of this moment. Because in about thirty seconds, this tranquility is going to be lost.

  I see her walking toward us and raise a hand to wave. Isaiah must detect my movement, because before my hand is back at my side, he rolls his neck, looking to see who I’m waving at.

  “Is that Beth?”

  I nod.

  “What’s she doing here?” he asks.

  I stay silent, my gaze traveling in the opposite direction. This was also arranged. Beth would come in from the north. They would approach us from the south. When Isaiah sees my eyes focused on something over his shoulder, his head swings around.

  “Emma, what are my fucking parents doing here?”

  My mouth drops open as the last two people I ever expected to see walking down the beach advance toward us. My head snaps back around to Beth, who’s also closing in on where Emma and I are seated. I’m unable to stop myself as I look back and forth between them over and over, trying to process what’s going on.

  Finally, right before everyone reaches us, my gaze falls on Emma. She looks at me with pleading eyes. “Don’t be mad. I know this is bad timing, what with Jim and all, but this was already in the works. Just, listen okay?”

  She gets up, greeting Beth and introducing herself to my parents quickly before making her way down the beach. I watch her. My parents kneel in front of me, Beth sitting next to me. But my attention remains on Emma. Once she’s about fifty yards away, she sits in the sand, wrapping her arms around her knees as she pulls them to her chest. Her hair fans out behind her in the breeze. And even though I’m livid at the fact she set all this up without telling me, I can’t help but marvel at how gorgeous she looks.

  Deciding to get this over with, I drop my gaze from Emma, meeting first my father’s, and then my mother’s eyes. My mother’s eyes are wet, as if she’s seconds away from crying. My father’s expression remains guarded. Not unusual. I don’t think I’ve seen this man show an ounce of emotion in his life.

  Beth speaks. “Isaiah, Emma called me and asked me to be here today. Now, this isn’t typically something I’d condone, springing something so huge on you completely unaware, but after speaking with Emma and your parents and seeing how far you’ve come in the past few months, I decided I’d go along with it because I think it will ultimately be beneficial to you.”

  I scoff. “Doubtful. And if you thought it would be so goddamned beneficial, then why didn’t you just suggest it to me? Instead of blindsiding me like this?”

  Beth gives me a pointed look. “Would you have agreed?” I lower my eyes, not answering her question. “I didn’t think so. And neither did Emma. So, here we are.”

  My jaw clenches as I grind my teeth. “So now what? You’re here. I’m here. They’re here. We going to build a fire and hold hands, fucking singing Kumbaya or some shit?”

  “Watch your mouth,” my father says, his tone sharp.

  I shake my head, not bothering to look at him. “Thirty fucking years old and you still think you can boss me around? Okay, Beth, let’s get this over with.”

  Beth glares at me. “You’re not helping, Isaiah. Your parents have traveled a long way to be here today. This means a lot to them.”

  “Oh, well that settles it then. They’ve traveled a few hundred miles to see little old me? Well, we’ll just forget about all those years of constant criticism and resentment. Thanks, Beth, you’ve been a tremendous help.”

  I know I’m acting like a child, and I can tell Beth would love to smack me upside the head. Lucky for me, she’s my therapist, so she’s not allowed. I lay back on the blanket, crossing my arms over my eyes, shielding them from the sun.

  “Isaiah,” my mom’s voice is so meager I almost don’t hear it over the sound of the ocean. I remain silent, curious to what she’s going to say after my little tantrum, but still pissed off enough I’m not going to encourage her.

  She obviously takes my silence as permission to speak. She clears her throat softly before speaking again. This time her words are a little clearer, but I can still hear the tears that threaten to spill at any moment.

  “I’m so sorry, baby. So very, very sorry.”

  The earnestness of her words catches me off guard. Dropping my arms from my eyes, I prop myself up on my elbows, taking in my mother. She looks so much older than I remember. How can that be? It’s been less than a year since I’ve seen her, but she seems to have aged a decade.

  If I’m honest with myself, I was way too wrapped up in my own shit when I saw her last to even remember much of what she looked like. She and my dad didn’t understand. All they could tell me was to pray. And that was the last thing I’d wanted to hear at the time. So instead, I’d shut them both out.

  But even before that, I had never paid much attention to them. The last honest to God conversation I can re
member having with either of them was before I graduated high school. The day after graduation, I’d packed my shit, moved in with my friend, and headed to the nearest Army recruitment office. I hadn’t looked back since.

  Seeing the sadness etched into my mother’s features though…

  Well, it makes me feel like a gigantic ass.

  My father puts his arm around her as she dabs at her eyes before the tears can fall. He presses his lips against her temple before looking at me.

  And the stoic, unsympathetic expression he’s carried for as long as I can remember vanishes. His eyes soften, his rigid jaw slackening.

  “I’m sorry too, son. For everything.”

  I look at Beth, what I’m sure is an incredulous look on my face. My father has never said sorry to me in my entire life. Not once. I briefly ponder asking Beth what she’s holding over him. Or maybe she’s a witch and has cast some sort of spell on him. Because the man I know, there’s no way in hell he’d ever apologize to me out of his own volition.

  I sit up straight, crossing my legs underneath me. Beth places her hand on my shoulder.

  “I’ve had some long conversations with your parents over the past week, Isaiah. I really think you should hear what they have to say.”

  I look back at my parents, their faces hopeful. I nod.

  My mother lets out a breath of relief. And my father gives me a soft smile. What. The. Fuck?

  My mother extends a tentative hand. I open mine, letting her place her fingers against my skin. A tear slides down her cheek at the contact, but she doesn’t move to wipe it away. I watch its path as it slides down her face and off her chin, falling onto the fabric of her shirt. She squeezes my fingers firmly.

  “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me,” she says, her voice thick.

  I look at our clasped hands, her words making me feel slightly uncomfortable. When my eyes meet hers again, she smiles.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. Not only in the last year, but all the times before that. You’ve always been so strong. So independent. I didn’t know how to handle it. But everyone needs a mother. I should’ve tried harder to get through to you. It was so easy to let you shut me out. And I took the easy way.”

  Her tears fall continuously now, but she doesn’t stop speaking.

  “You were so different from your brother. He was always so happy. So eager to please. And it makes me a terrible mother to admit this, but he was so much easier. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love you both. In some ways, I love you more. And in some ways, I love him more. But each of you own an equal half of my heart. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that. I let you distance yourself from me, and a piece of my heart has withered a little more each day since that happened. I can only hope it isn’t too late to revive that shriveled part of me. I hope somewhere, deep inside, a part of it still beats.”

  Tears prick my eyes as she speaks. I tighten my fingers around hers. When she finishes, she leans into me, wrapping her thin arms around my shoulders. I cry into her hair as she squeezes me tighter. After a few moments, I pull back. She places her hand against my cheek, rubbing her thumb across my cheekbone.

  “You look so much like your father,” she says, her voice full of love and wonder.

  At the mention of him, I turn my attention to my dad. He lowers his eyes to where he circles his finger in the sand.

  “Acts just like him too,” he adds.

  I want to object. I want to tell them exactly how not like my father I am. Except, looking at the man before me, I can’t find the words. Because he’s right.

  I’m a stubborn, headstrong son of a bitch. I don’t take shit from people, and I love having authority. I love being a leader. I pride myself on my resolve. My ability to contain my emotion. Well, until my world turned upside down that day in Iraq. Things changed inside me that day. Things I had trouble accepting. Because, deep down, I am my father’s son. And neither of us has ever done well with change.

  Our eyes lock, and in an instant, I understand this man more than I ever thought possible. His large Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. Mine follows suit. He stops tracing shapes in the sand, extending his hand to me. I grasp it, and he covers both our hands with his other, squeezing tightly.

  “I’m sorry, son.”

  Three simple words. But they mean as much to me as all the ones my mother gave me. Maybe more. My resentment has never been directed at my mom. Sure, I wish she’d have stood up for me more to him, but that’s not who she is. My mother is the antithesis of a confrontational person. Which works out well for their relationship. Because my father is the definition of it. Just like me.

  Beth rearranges herself on the blanket next to me, reminding me of her presence. She hasn’t said a word through this entire exchange, and I’d sort of forgotten she was there. She’s beaming at me when I look at her. She gently pats my hand with hers before climbing to her feet.

  “I think you’ve got this covered. I’m going to go keep Emma company.”

  I watch her as she walks away and settles herself next to Emma. I see Emma’s worried face as she looks at her. And then I see her eyes seek out mine as she smiles at me. I give her a small wave, returning her smile.

  We still have a long way to go, my parents and I, but for the first time in my life, I want to embark on that journey. It’s going to be long. And it’s going to be rocky. But I have faith that in the end, it will be worth it.

  I turn back to my parents, renewed hope in my heart.

  I’m having fun.

  Three words I never thought I’d utter while in my parents’ presence.

  At Emma’s insistence, we’d all come to Wright Taste to meet up with Kev and his family. I’d wanted to go home, having had enough family bonding time for one day, but Emma had flashed a little pout at me when I tried to beg off, and now here I am.

  And watching her, my mom leaning into her and the two of them holding onto each other as they laugh at something one of them said, makes all the emotions of the day worth it. Kevin’s daughter, Vanessa, is perched on Emma’s lap, her wild toddler hair standing up in a dozen different directions. She plops her hand right in the middle of the milkshake in front of her before turning and offering it to Emma. Emma’s eyes dance with amusement. She grabs Vanessa’s pudgy little hand, pretending to noisily eat it as she reaches for her napkin. Vanessa’s high pitched squeals of laughter ripple through the restaurant, causing several other patrons to turn to look at us.

  Normally, I’d be embarrassed by the attention we’re currently receiving. But every single person whose attention we’ve caught is smiling, watching this gorgeous woman as she plays with my niece. After she finishes wiping off Vanessa’s hand, Emma plants a kiss to the top of her head, smoothing her hair back as she snuggles her closer.

  And that’s when it hits me. I’m in love with this woman. I’d suspected it for a while, but I was too scared to admit it to myself. But seeing her here, with my family, a baby on her lap… I want it. All of it. With her.

  I want that to be our baby on her lap. I want my ring to be on her finger. I want to see her walking toward me, a white dress on her slender body, a veil hiding her gorgeous face. And I want to be the one to lift that veil. To plant a kiss on those perfect lips. To vow to love her forever. In sickness and in health. None of that ’til death do we part” bullshit though, because no matter how long I live, it will never be enough time with Emma. Death will never be able to put a stop to the love I have for this woman.

  As if she can hear my thoughts, Emma’s eyes lock with mine, and she smiles.

  Hi, she mouths, a sparkle glinting in her eye. Happiness.

  I grin back at her. Hi.

  Kevin’s wife, Rachel, slides into the booth next to me, interrupting our moment. She slides a beer over to me. My eyebrows pop, and I give her a questioning look.

  “He said you deserve it after the day you’ve had,” Rachel says, nodding her head over to where Kevin stands
behind the bar. It’s been a pretty slow night here, the cooler fall temps having driven away some of the tourists, but Kev has still had to run over and play bartender when someone orders a drink. He lifts the beer he’s been nursing for the past hour to me. I lift my own, and together we take a long pull. He winks at me as he puts his down to help the customer approaching the bar.

  My dad is over at the pinball machine in the corner with Kevin’s other daughter, Gabby. At seven, she’s shaping up to be the spitting image of her mother, lucky for her. Rach has always been a knockout. Even back in her awkward teenage years. She grew up in the house across the street from us. And for as long as I can remember, Kevin has been in love with her. I used to laugh in his face when he told me he was going to marry her someday.

  A girl like that would never marry a guy like either of us, Kev. I’d said the words to him at least a hundred times over the years. And eight years ago, he’d proved me wrong.

  Looking at Emma now, I can only hope that once again, I’m wrong. A girl like her should not be with a guy like me. But damned if I’m going to let her get away from me now.

  Gabby throws her arms up, cheering loudly as the machine lights up, indicating she has beat the high score. She doesn’t know my dad has the key and reset it before they started to play. But the joy and pride on her face as she beams at her grandpa and gives him the biggest high five I’ve ever seen melts my heart. I’m going to start resetting that damn machine every time she comes in. At least until she’s old enough to figure it out. Because I want to see that look on her face as much as I possibly can.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I reach for it as Gabby runs over to throw her arms around her mom. I look at the screen, seeing a number I don’t recognize. I send it to voice mail as Gabby climbs onto her mom’s lap, leaning over to me.

  “Did you see me, Uncle Isaiah? I beat it!”

  I put my big hand on her little head, moving it back and forth as she giggles. “I sure did. Good job, kiddo.”