Wounded Hero (Heroes with Heart Book 2) Read online

  Wounded Hero

  Hope Ford

  Contents

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  1. Peggy

  2. Jeremy

  3. Peggy

  4. Peggy

  5. Peggy

  6. Peggy

  7. Peggy

  8. Peggy

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

  Wounded Hero © 2021 by Hope Ford

  Editor: Kasi Alexander

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  1

  Peggy

  I can’t lose him. I can’t. This past year has been the worst of my life. Heck, our whole family’s life. I’ve wanted to give up so many times, but the love I have for my husband and our kids is the only thing that holds me together.

  I just want to be happy. I want my husband to hold me and tell me he loves me and it’s going to be okay. But I know it’s not going to happen, at least not anytime soon. My husband of twenty years can’t stand to be touched. He’s so down on himself, and I don’t know if he’s ever going to be the same again. I try not to let my insecurities surface, but it’s almost impossible. He has no interest in me... in our kids. It’s like he’s already given up on us. Somehow, someway, I have to show him that I love him no matter what. That even though he’s in a wheelchair or wearing his prosthetic legs, he’s still my husband, and I love him. I can’t lose him.

  I’ve got a thousand things to do, and while I am used to shouldering most of it on my own, I know I need to start finding a way to include Jeremy in our day-to-day lives. I’m used to doing it all. For most of our married life he would be gone months at a time when he would get the call for duty, and I am very capable of doing things on my own. But now that Jeremy’s home, I need to push him to help me and show him how much his family needs him. He’s hurting, and he pushes me and the kids away, but I’m not giving up. I just have to find a way to reach him.

  I’ve told myself it takes time and to be patient. It kills me that he’s pulled so far away from us, but I keep reminding myself that it’s not always going to be like this. Sure, it feels like forever, but the truth is, it’s only been a year since the bomb killed his army brother, injured his friends, and took his legs. So that really isn’t very long in the whole scheme of things. All I can do is pray that the therapy Jeremy is going to helps. It’s bound to get better. It has to because I can’t imagine it getting worse.

  I’m afraid he’s killing the relationship he has with our kids. They’re both to the point now where they find it easier to just avoid him than to keep trying to include him in their lives. It’s time I intervene. I have to, for the sake of our children. They need their dad.

  I’m nervous as I sit outside the therapy office where Jeremy goes for counseling. I’ve offered to come with him numerous times, but he has flat-out told me he doesn’t want me here. I shake my head at the memory. He might as well have slapped me in the face for how much his words hurt me. But just like with everything else, I clammed up, didn’t say a word, and went along with his request. I know he doesn’t want me here because he doesn’t want me to see him any more vulnerable than he’s already had to be. He wants me to see him as the same strong man he was before the explosion. At least, that’s what I believe the reason is.

  I walk into the office, and the secretary is away from the desk. I debate knocking on the door. His appointment should be over any time, and I really need to get to work. I look between the door and the empty desk for a few seconds before finally saying heck with it. The fact remains that Jeremy is my husband. It shouldn’t be a problem for me to just stop in and give him a message. With that thought fresh in my mind, I knock soundly on the door.

  A woman opens it, and she’s so young and beautiful it makes me take a step back. I can’t be in the right place. How could someone so young, so innocent looking be helpful to a veteran trying to recover from such violence and loss?

  “I’m sorry. I was looking for Dr. Greening and my husband, Jeremy Kilburn.”

  The woman smiles at me and opens the door a little wider. “You’re in the right place.” She opens her hand toward the room, gesturing for me to come inside. Jeremy is in his chair parked closer to the chair that Dr. Greening clearly uses than the couch where her other patients must sit.

  Jeremy looks surprised to see me, and his face is red as if he’s embarrassed or a little guilty. I chance another glance at Dr. Greening in her slim skirt and fitted dress shirt. I barely hold back a flinch when I think how I must look in my scrubs. No doubt frumpy compared to her. Jeremy still hasn’t said anything to me, and it’s then I decide it is no doubt guilt that is on his face.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I say, not wanting to enter farther into the room than I’ve already stepped. “You said you’d be done with your session, and I wanted to catch you afterward. I need your help with the twins. They are scheduled to take their tests at the DMV for their learners’ permits in an hour, and I can’t take them. I got called into work.”

  Jeremy looks uncomfortable. Dr. Greening, who has returned to her chair close to Jeremy’s, reaches out and squeezes his hand. It’s like a punch to the gut, and I inhale deeply. The way she’s turned toward Jeremy, the way she’s looking at him, the worried look on her face, it’s obvious she’s attracted to him and cares deeply for him.

  But probably what’s worse is knowing that Jeremy allows the contact, allows this Dr. Greening to touch him. It’s more than he’s allowed me to have with him. His face is so red, he’s probably angry that I’m here, and it makes me feel even more rejected and betrayed. He grunts his displeasure at me. “A text message would’ve worked. I’ll take them.”

  It would’ve worked if you answered your phone, I think, but I don’t say out loud. I’m so overcome with emotion that I can’t look at Jeremy anymore, not without crying.

  I have to walk into the room, and I do so quickly. I lay the paperwork on the table next to him because even touching him to hand him papers will cause him to tense up. I know that. “Here’s the paperwork you’ll need.”

  But the whole time, I can’t look at my husband of twenty years. I know that I’ll get that same distant look. That’s the only one he gives me anymore. Instead, I look at Dr. Greening.

  The good doctor smiles at me. “If you have the time, you’re welcome to stay. I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

  I try to smile at her, but I’m sure it looks more like a cringe. She’s more welcoming and inviting to me than my own husband. “No thank you. I really do have to go. I’m sorry to have interrupted your session.”

  Dr. Greening starts to say something, but I don’t stick around to find out what it is. I pull the door shut without another glance at Jeremy. Being rejected by him weighs heavily on me as I walk back to my car. I can’t keep doing this. My positive attitude from before is gone, and now all I can do is wonder where we go from here.

  2

  Jeremy

  I stare at the closed door Peggy just walked out of. There’s a deep burning in my gut. It feels like it’s been there the whole last year, but it’s worse right now. I hate for my wife, the woman that I vowed to love and protect almost twenty years ago, to see me like this. Just seeing me here, vulnerable like this, had her practically running from the room. I knew all the times she asked to come it was a bad idea.
Now I know it was. She was obviously disgusted with me; it was obvious from the way she couldn’t even look at me.

  “You seem upset, Jeremy. Do you want to talk about why you don’t want to bring your wife into therapy with us?” Dr. Greening asks.

  I sigh in frustration. “No. I don’t want to talk about that again. I’d rather talk about why I’m no closer to being who I was before the... accident. It’s been a year of this therapy, and I’m not near the man I was when I left. This isn’t working.”

  I want to get up and pace. It’s amazing that I’ve never noticed it before, but I’m definitely a pacer. Since the bomb went off, the need to pace is immense. It’s just one more thing I’ve had to give up.

  Dr. Greening scoots closer to me, and I look away. I can barely stand to look anyone in the face anymore because I’m sick of seeing their pity. “I understand your frustration, Jeremy, but what you’re saying isn’t true. When we first began therapy, you were so upset that you had to be driven around every time you needed to leave the house. You’re driving now, you’ve learned to use the hand brake and accelerator, you’ve paved your way back to independence. You’ll continue to gain more and more independence. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re making great progress.”

  What good is progress when I’m still going to be a burden to my family and disgust my wife?

  I think it, but I don’t say it out loud. I’ve never let our conversations include my wife. It’s as if I need to keep her out of this. She’s already gone through so much, I don’t want to bring her even further into it. It feels like I can’t protect her from anything else, but I can protect her from what’s talked about in this room. I at least owe her that.

  I put my hand on the arm controller, ready to get out of here. Without looking at the doctor, I mumble that I need to go. I know why Peggy came here to ask me to take the kids for their appointment. If she had texted me, I probably wouldn’t have answered. And if she had asked me at home, I would have made an excuse not to do it. She put me on the spot in there, and I couldn’t very well say no. As a matter of fact, I would have done anything—said anything, agreed to anything—to get her out of this room.

  I drive across town and am early at the high school. Jaxon and Josie are both freshmen this year and seem to be adjusting well, considering everything our family has been through. They’re twins, and I still find it amazing how alike but also how different they are.

  When they spot my truck, I can tell they’re surprised. I haven’t picked them up from school probably since grade school. All the time I went away for assignments, Peggy took care of the family and household.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?” Josie asks, climbing into the back seat as Jaxon jumps in the front.

  “Well, you have the learners’ permit test, and I thought I’d take you.”

  Jaxon is quiet and subdued as I pull out of the parking lot. He’s a lot like me and keeps things bottled in. Josie is the opposite. She’s bouncing in her seat. “I’m so nervous.”

  The whole way to the DMV I quiz them with “what if” scenarios, and sadly, it’s the best conversation I’ve had in months. There’s no talk about my legs or inadequacies. I’m just having fun with my kids. I can forget for a minute that I’m disabled. At least until I pull into the parking lot of the DMV. “Go on in, kids, and get signed in. I’ll be in in a minute.”

  They both look at me with wide eyes, and I know they’re trying to figure out what they should do to help me. I can see the doubt in both their eyes, and I can’t blame them. This is the first outing we’ve had in over a year, and I’ve been pretty unhinged since I got home. I give them a smile. “I’m fine. I’ll be right there.”

  My body temperature goes up knowing that I have to go in the building. I’ve avoided crowds for so long now, I get anxious just thinking about it. I have my prosthetics on, and I’m getting better with them, but I still lean heavily on my chair. For a split second, I consider walking in but change my mind quickly. I use them only to go from the driver’s seat to the chair. That’s it. I don’t even think my family has seen me try to walk yet, and they probably won’t for a while. Not until I can do it without falling flat on my face.

  I open the door and look down at the ground below. All I have to do is walk on my prosthetics to the back of the truck and get my chair out. I can do it. My mind starts whirling... and then go inside where everyone will stare at me. Just as I’m about to slide from the seat, Jaxon comes out of the DMV. He’s looking at me sheepishly. “Hey, Dad. She said there’s only one paper you need to sign, and I can take your license in for you.”

  I stare at him, debating going in there. I know I should. I need to show my kids that even through everything that happened to me, I can still function... I can still be there for them. And just as I’m about to tell him just that, my fifteen-year-old son starts to say, “It’s all right, Dad. It’s not a big deal. Just the fact you want to be with us is enough. The rest of it can come later. There’s no rush.”

  I nod and take the pen he’s holding out to me. I sign my name and pull my driver’s license out of my wallet and hand it to him. We are avoiding looking at each other, and my voice is thick with emotion. “Thank you, son.”

  He smiles in relief. No doubt he’d worried if he was making the right decision by coming out here. I’ve been a bear to live with, and I know I have. My wife, my kids, everyone has tiptoed around me, and I hate that on top of everything else that has happened, I’ve taken it out on my family.

  He takes my license and the papers back. “We’ll be out after our tests.”

  I nod and watch him run back into the DMV. Even though he’s not letting on, I know I let him down. Him and his sister... again.

  3

  Peggy

  I park outside the house after my shift and sit in my car, looking up at the dark windows. The old days of rushing in when Jeremy was home are long gone. Now I can’t help but sit here and prepare myself for what’s about to happen, wondering what kind of mood he’s in. Day after day, I’ve almost pulled back out so many times I can’t even keep track of the number. Today’s probably the worst, though. After everything with Dr. Greening, I don’t even know if I can look at Jeremy now. Before this last year, I would have bet a million dollars that he’s not a man that would cheat. But now, and I can’t believe I’m thinking it, but I’m not sure. He won’t touch me, he won’t even look at me. But I shake my head, not wanting my thoughts to go that way. Surely not. Jeremy took our vows seriously. I know he did. It’s just been a devastating year. I want a break, just a small one, so I can collect myself. But knowing that my kids are inside probably being quiet and just trying to stay out of the way and Jeremy’s probably in his chair watching TV, I feel the demand to go in and offer some kind of normalcy to my family.

  I take a deep breath, gather my things, and walk to the front door. As soon as I walk in, I’m taken aback by the laughter I hear from the kitchen. Still clutching my bag and purse, I go cautiously toward the unfamiliar sound. Both the kids are sitting at the table, and Jeremy is too. The sink is full of dishes, no doubt from Josie and Jaxon’s meal prep, but I can’t even be upset by it. It looks like they just finished their meal and they’re just talking.... and laughing.

  “Mom! We both passed!” Josie screams and jumps up, running to me. I hug her, and my son reaches back to give me a fist bump.

  “Congratulations. That’s exciting news! I’ll have to take you out driving this weekend.”

  They both nod and go on and on about their test and how hard it was. Jeremy is just staring at them, still not meeting my eyes.

  When they finally stop for a breath, I interrupt them. “So I’m so proud of you both, but have you finished your homework?”

  “Done,” they say at the same time, and we all start laughing.

  “Can I go call Emma?” Josie asks at the same time Jaxon asks, “Can I go play video games?”

  I nod my head and start clearing the table. “Sure, you guys cooked. I
got clean-up.”

  They both are gone in an instant after they thank their dad for taking them.

  Now, with the kids gone, Jeremy only has me to look at, and I can tell that’s hard for him. I do my best to put aside the angst I’ve been feeling since seeing the gorgeous young therapist leaning in and squeezing my husband’s hand. I thought about it all night at work and told myself that I’m going to keep it together and just let it pass. But now, seeing Jeremy and his refusal to look at me, I can’t keep my mouth shut.

  I carry the dirty dishes to the sink and with my back to him, I ask, “Is that woman why you don’t want me to go with you to your therapy appointments?”

  Jeremy makes a sound in his throat like I’m being completely ridiculous, but he doesn’t answer, and I can’t disregard how I’m feeling.

  I turn with my hand on my hip. “Are you attracted to her?”

  He’s shaking his head. “How can you ask me that? I go to therapy to try to get better, to be better. Dr. Greening is my therapist, and that’s it. Who cares what she looks like? Don’t you want me to get better?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “You know what, Jeremy? In all of that, you didn’t deny that you’re attracted to her. She touched you. I stood there and watched another woman comfort you, hold your hand when you haven’t allowed me to touch you in months. You’re into her, aren’t you? I can’t believe I’ve listened to you and stayed away. This whole time you’re going and having private sessions—”