The Second Chance Hero (20 page)

“It was you. You were the one. You were there.” She grabbed his left hand and found what she was looking for. The scar. “Is there anything else? I don’t know what other secrets you could keep from me, but I guess I should ask.” Their gazes locked, and he saw all the light leave her eyes right before she dropped his hand and stepped back.
Shit
.

“Please don’t do this,” he begged.

“You need to leave, Owen.” She was calmer now, more like the Kim he knew, and that scared him more. He could console her if she was upset, but when she made a decision, that’s when he knew she was done with him.

“Baby, please. You have to listen.”

“I can’t.” She shook her head. Her breathing was unsteady, but her eyes had cleared. She stepped away from him. “You should have told me everything.”

“Kim . . . Don’t do this.”

“Good-bye, Owen. I love you. I love you so much and I’ll be thinking of you every day, but I can’t trust you. I can’t go through this again.”

Stunned, he watched the woman he loved, the woman who brought everything good into his life, walk out of the room, leaving him in her family’s kitchen.

He was alone. Alone in every way possible.

Dear Owen,

I love you.

There. If you got that far, maybe you’ll keep reading, and I can beg you to forgive me for being so horrible to you before you left.

I don’t know if I have an excuse that will give you enough reason to actually forgive me. I was scared. So scared. I still am. I’m afraid of what’s going to happen to you over there, what I’m feeling for you, and while I’m terrified that you could die, all I know is that I’d rather be scared with you than without you. You’re worth the risk, Owen. You’re so worth the risk. There were so many things I had to work through, but you shouldn’t have been one of them. You were the one who helped me get past the darkness inside me, who helped me feel whole again. Without you, I think it’s possible I would have had a happy life, but I never would have been happy with myself.

It’s been a tough month since you’ve been gone, and I’ve made some decisions. The first thing I did was come clean with Tom’s family. I told them everything, even if it hurt. I called Mrs. Albanese and went to dinner at the house with her, Mr. A, all the girls, and about twelve thousand relatives, including Zia Bunny and Zio Marco. You know what? She knew about Tom’s girlfriend. Apparently, Corporal Lynn paid a visit to his mom a few months ago. His mother never told anyone because she was trying to protect me. Once it all came out, we had a good cry, called him an asshole, but there’s no denying we all miss him, and whatever would have happened between us doesn’t mean I don’t miss him.

But I learned something else. I read the letter you wrote to Tom’s parents. It was beautiful, Owen. Eloquent, simple, and so very kind. Tom’s mother told me it was a great comfort to her, and she reads it over and over. You touched her with your words, and your actions that day on the front lawn meant the world to her, and to me. She told me that we were lucky to find each other and she hoped we’d be very happy.

And she meant it. Of course, that’s when I started crying and told everyone what had happened. I’ve been so miserable without you, Owen. I miss you so much and I’m so worried something’s going to happen to you. But I can’t let that keep us apart. When you get home, I hope we can talk, and I hope you can forgive me for hurting you.

I don’t deserve you. You’re so good, so kind. I had no idea how empty I would feel without you here. Or maybe I did. Maybe I knew and I thought if I pushed you away, it wouldn’t hurt. The thing is, I hurt more.

I love you so much. I hate that you’re back there, I hate that we’re not together. Casey thinks I’m crazy. I let her sleep in my bed, and I hold her and cry. I don’t want you to think you aren’t missed. You are. You are also loved beyond measure.

Oh, did your sister tell you I have your dog? She had to go away for a month and she called me. I hope it’s okay. I love her and I’m happy she’s here. It helps me miss you less.

I think I’ve slobbered enough for one e-mail, but if you’d like me to do it again, just say so.

Oh, I’m going on a job interview tomorrow. There’s a position at a local hospital for an emergency room nurse. I told Harper it’s time for her mom to take over for me. Even if I don’t get this position, it’s time for me to get back to my work. Her mom is going to move into the cottage and I’m going to move home. With everyone out of the house my parents are a little lost and they’ve missed me, so I’m going to go there until I get my bearings. I guess that’s what I should have done before.

Okay, now I’m done. God, I miss talking to you. I miss listening to you snore. I miss how you warm up the bed and how you hold me. I love you. I miss you. Please come back to me.

Always,
Kim

Looking over the e-mail for the tenth time, Kim hoped it wasn’t too late. Maybe she should keep it simple. Just telling him she loved him would be the make or break. Either he’d forgive her or he wouldn’t. If he forgave her, she wanted to spend every day of the rest of her life with him. If he didn’t, she’d go on knowing she’d ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Kim took a breath. She’d never poured out her heart like that, never opened herself to so much hurt. But Owen deserved that and more. She knew how he was living, knew the conditions were horrible. He was in danger. He deserved to know not only that she loved him, but how much.

“God, Owen. I miss you.” She grabbed a tissue from the box that seemed to be with her wherever she went. She cried just thinking about him. Jenna had been watching TV while Kim finished the e-mail, but friend that she was, at the first tear, she was pulling her into a hug.

“It’s going to be okay, Kimmy. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Maybe not, but I believe Tom’s watching over you and Owen. He won’t let you be alone again. Owen’s coming home.”

Just the thought of anything happening to Owen was too much. “Oh, Jen. I was so horrible to him.” Kim held back as much as she could, but there was no way to stem grief once it started. After he told her he’d been the one in the hospital who’d held her, the rest of her memory filled in. She remembered him coming in. His hand bandaged. His bright blue eyes looking at her. He’d seemed to know immediately that there was something wrong.

She called her old commanding officer and found out that Owen had made the two-hour drive from his post to check on her two weeks after Tom’s death. By that time she was already on her way back to the states. But her CO said he sensed that something had happened between the two of them during those moments he consoled her, and no truer words had ever been spoken.

Kim remembered the warmth of the man who held her that day. His soft words, his strong arms. He didn’t flinch when she collapsed. He just made sure she was protected. It was Owen to the ground.

Looking at the e-mail one more time, she pressed send and hoped for the best. He had to read the first line. That was all. As long as he knew she loved him, she could live with herself. He deserved that much.

Kandahar Province, Afghanistan

July

The heat was always the killer. But Owen had been so numb inside, he hadn’t really cared. He kept his mind on the work and his marines and he had tried not to think about Kim, who was thousands of miles away. Then the e-mail had come in right before he left on a mission, and he just didn’t have time to read the whole thing. But when he saw the letter from her started with “I love you,” the day was pretty much perfect. He was going to answer her as soon as he got back.

He wondered if she knew he was thinking about her, if she could feel him. He’d hoped she’d forgiven him for not telling her about this quick tour. But he couldn’t be sorry that he was helping and that more men and women would be getting home as a result.

There had been an uptick in small firefights. The Taliban was gunning for them, and it could mean trouble anywhere. So being out with a patrol was not something Owen took lightly. Even though the village had always been friendly, even though they didn’t think there was a threat, there always could be.

He got out of the MRAP and he might as well have been walking in a furnace. It was 115 degrees, there had been a sandstorm the day before, and everything was mired in dust. There were a few kids playing outside a small house, and they smiled and waved.

That was the last thing he remembered before the rocket hit.

Two of his marines went down, and he couldn’t do anything. There were people running for cover, but at that moment, Owen could only think about the kids he’d seen.

He didn’t know if their parents were close by, if there was a place for them to go, but from what he could see, he was on his own, and he wasn’t going to let three little kids die. Gunfire erupted and Owen dodged and weaved through the hot and dusty street back to where he’d last seen them.

They were huddled against a wall, scared, crying. They couldn’t have been older than seven or eight. Three little boys.

He ran to them and tucked them behind his body as weapons fire peppered the area. His brain was working the problem and Owen wasn’t sure what he was going to do next when he saw an Afghan man yelling to him from a nearby doorway. One of the boys screamed the word for “father” and he watched them run for cover. The man waved and hurried the children inside, slamming the door and leaving Owen alone on the now deserted streets.

He heard American voices, which meant more of his guys had arrived, but they were distant. He had to get out and find the group. The whole place had gone still. The quiet was eerie.

Owen took two steps away from the wall when there was a flash and a searing, burning pain. He went into the dust. Looking down, he found his left foot twisted at an odd angle, the boot torn off. His ankle and lower leg were ripped open, the bone exposed.
Shit. Shit.

There was blood everywhere and the pain hit with such blinding force, he screamed.

“Corpsman!” he heard. “Major is down. Get over here. I need cover!”

“Don’t worry, sir.” One of his men was at his side immediately, but Owen’s vision was clouding and he turned, retched, and threw up.

The voices were becoming distant, faint. He could hear them talking about him, though.

He’s getting shocky. Shit, his foot is mangled. Cover us, we’re going to have to get him to trauma ASAP.

The voices were getting farther away, sounding like they were underwater. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake.

He felt cold. How could he be cold when it was so hot?

His head hurt and then, without any more fight left in him, Owen went to sleep.

***

Walking through the corridor of the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany, Kim worried about what she would find when she could finally see Owen. At least now she knew why he wasn’t answering her e-mails. Two weeks ago, on the same day of the attack that cost him his lower left leg, Kim had opened the door to their relationship, but there had been no response.

She told him she loved him, and that she’d be there when he got home. When she didn’t hear from him, she got worried. But it wasn’t until a few days ago, when Harper came to the cottage, that she found out what had happened and why he hadn’t answered. Communication could be tricky with military patients, especially if Owen wasn’t ready to reach out. That explained the silence, but it didn’t mean Kim was going to accept it.

Harper, Jason, and Nate flew her in the Reliance jet, and now a nurse walked her to the physical therapy gym where Owen was working on his exercises. Wondering what she was going to find, what kind of shape he was in, was eating at her, but she had to have faith. He was alive, and people came back from injuries far worse than this. And she’d be there. She’d be with him every step of the way.

But thinking about what he’d gone through, about the pain and fear he must have felt, killed her. She’d treated men who’d been brought in injured and who had awakened from surgery missing limbs. Their grief was palpable, the depression acute, and based on what she’d heard, Owen wasn’t having an easy time.

“He’s made good progress,” said the nurse. “He’s stubborn and since he was in such good shape, a lot of the basic tasks, like transfers, you know, getting from bed to chair, were easy for him.”

“That’s good. There are no training prosthetics yet, are there?”

“Not yet.”

Kim stopped and put her hand on the woman’s arm. “How is he otherwise?”

“He’s having a hard time. His family just left, they were here for a week, but he’s very distant.”

Distant? Owen was never distant. He was open and warm, larger than life. To think he’d lost that, broke her heart.

“Maybe seeing you will help. He has mentioned you.”

God, please let that be true
. “Let’s hope,” Kim replied as the nurse opened the door.

The gym was an open space, clean and white, with tall windows looking out on the campus. She saw Owen immediately, his strong back unmistakable. In a T-shirt and shorts, he held himself between a set of parallel bars, his good leg extended and on the floor, while the stump of the residual limb was in a compression sleeve.

He hopped. A balance exercise she was told.

He hopped again. She wanted to go to him, but didn’t.

He hopped again, turned around and saw her.

Kim felt the tears well in her eyes and at the same time saw them mirrored in his. But his face . . . thank God, his face lit up. He took a shaky breath and forced down the emotion she could see was swamping him. Her guy was still trying to be the big tough marine.

“Hey, marine,” she choked out, as she took a few steps toward him. Her own reaction to seeing him was making it hard to speak, but this, she managed.
“You come here often?”

A hot tear tracked over her cheek as he took three quick hops toward her.

Then three more.

“That’s a lousy line,” he said, his voice strained, hoarse.

“I got a million of them.”

He was unsteady still, so she waited until the physical therapist who stood nearby brought his wheelchair. Owen sat, extending his leg straight, and he winced. The wound was still healing, but based on the condition and location, he would be okay.

He had to be okay.

Kim was trying to be composed, be professional, but she was failing. This was Owen, her heart hurt from missing him and she was failing miserably.

“Thank God you’re all right.” She reached out and stroked his hair, kissed the top of his head and Kim ached when he blinked back tears.

“I hardly call this okay.”

“Owen. You’re alive. You think I care about a stump?” She leaned in and took his face in her hands. “I love you. I love you and I need you to get better. I need you, period.”

“Kim, I . . . You were right. Look what happened to me. I didn’t answer you and . . . How could I? I’m not the man I was.”

“Yeah, about that. I was going crazy when you didn’t respond. What were you thinking? You have me. Heart and soul. I don’t care about your leg, just about you. You’re still here and you will always be the man I fell in love with. I need you to get better so you can marry me and give me babies, and we can have a great life.”

“You want to . . . really?” The dumbass, he was actually surprised.

Kim kneeled in front of him, more sure about this than anything she’d done in her life.

“What do you say? Will you marry me, Owen?”

His mouth opened slightly and Owen pressed his fingers against his eyes, but Kim couldn’t feign strength. She was done being tough, done being brave, and she let the tears fall freely. Then Owen reached for her and held her so tight she thought she might break. “Oh, I missed you,” he said, his lips brushing against her temple. “I love you.” He tilted his head back and looked at her. “How many babies do you want?” And there it was. His grin, his spirit, everything she loved about him was right there, just for her.

“Not sure yet, but you better work hard because I want my tall, handsome marine standing at the end of the aisle when I become his wife.”

“I love you, Kim.”

“I know. Now get up. You have work to do.”

“Slave driver.”

“You have no idea.”