She gives me a small smile and a nod. “Come with me. Let’s get you off your feet somewhere comfortable until the doctor finishes up with your wife and comes to find you, okay?”
She leads me to a small breakroom of sorts with a couch in the center of the room, some tables and vending machines off to the far corner, and a scattering of lockers on the other.
“I’ll let the doctors know where you are so that they can come and fill you in. No one will bother you here, and if you need to make some calls to family, just use the phone on the end table next to the couch. I’ll go get some ice and lotion for your stump. No sense in having some macho-man issues when you need to make sure to avoid exasperating your skin further. Do you feel like you need anything else?”
I shake my head, waiting to hear some sort of disgust about my disability, but it never comes.
“Be right back.”
I move towards the couch, drop down, and lean my head back. I should be calling everyone—getting them here—but I feel so hopelessly lost that I don’t even know which way is up.
I roll up my pants and go through the movements to get the pressure off my stump. When I get my leg off, the skin is slightly irritated and red, but luckily, there aren’t any sores. A little ice and I should be good to go by the time Emmy needs me.
The nurse comes back, gives me a cool gel pack, and hands me some lotion. I rub it liberally on my skin before throwing the cool pack down.
“You seem to have it covered without my help,” she laughs.
“Been doing it long enough,” I say in a monotone.
“Right. I know you aren’t going to listen to me, but you really should keep your weight off it—even if it’s just for the night.”
“With all due respect—”
“Tracey,” she supplies.
“Well, with all due respect, Tracey, I don’t really give a flying fuck about my damn stump right now. As soon as I can get to Emmy, the better. She doesn’t need to be alone.”
She gives me a soft smile, her blue eyes shining with compassion. “I understand. My husband lost his leg in Afghanistan, so I can respect your pride when it comes to your body, sir, but you can check it at the door. You military men are all the same,” she laughs, and I narrow my eyes. “It’s written all over you, so it wasn’t too hard to guess. You know your body better than I do, but I can promise you this—I’m not judging you and no one else will. You should be proud of everything you’ve overcome and not look at it as such a burden. And before you ask, that’s written all over you too.”
I don’t speak. No need to. I let her words sink in and, for the first time, think of my injury as a badge of what I’ve overcome. Could she be right?
“I’ll let that simmer while I go check on your wife.” She pats my thigh and leaves the room.
Some of the ice-cold fear holding me down weakens from just thinking about Emmy as my wife. When they said it earlier, I didn’t do shit to correct them. The thought of her walking down the aisle towards me, her body covered in white lace, her eyes full of love, and that heart-stopping smile all for me does something to me.
It takes that flame of hope—the one I’ve been feeling for months, afraid I would somehow extinguish the fire if I just allowed myself a second to believe—to flicker a few times before it starts to warm my body with its warm glow.
We’re going to get past this. She is going to get past this, and I vow to never let a day go by without joining the fight she’s been warring on her own for us.
I’ll stand by her side until I’m no longer wanted—and then, if that day ever comes, I’ll throw her over my shoulder and carry her the rest of the way.
This is my second chance. The time that I man up and take a chance at everything being blessed with her love could bring me.
CHAPTER 23
Maddox
I make the only phone call I need to make to ensure that everyone else is notified. By the time I get my shit together long enough to make the call, the sun is starting to climb and I know it won’t be long before the officers from last night start trying to find me.
Axel promises to handle getting my cell number switched and a replacement phone to me as soon as possible, knowing that they’ll need to get ahold of me and mine is still somewhere in that hotel’s halls. I give him the only information I have—that she was stable when we arrived.
I’ve just dropped the phone down onto the base when the door opens and Tracey walks back in. She gives me a smile, shutting the door softly.
“Can I get some information on your wife? We can wait for the insurance stuff if you don’t have it on you, but they need to know some general information.”
I nod but don’t move my eyes up from their fixed position on the door, willing someone to come and tell me how she is.
I go over the basic information on Emmy. Just talking about her so clinically is making my skin itch. I need to see her. I have to see her.