AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Hardly,he thought painfully.
There was a brand-new set of crutches still wrapped in plastic near the doorway, but he was in no condition to even attempt to use those things yet. He could barely look at the stump on his leg without feeling hysteria rise in him, nor did he want to think about the guys back home or how he wasn’t going to be able to go back, and he must have made a sound because Daphne was coming to his side.
“Hey…” she said simply, reaching for his hand, and he let her.
Max needed that touch to keep him from crying out at the injustice of it all. He’d literally been sitting in the Army truck, doing his darn job, when in the blink of an eye, everything changed.
“Are you hungry?”
“A little…” he admitted and hesitated, looking at the nurse. “Could you bring her a tray too – please?”
All three women’s eyes widened at the unexpected and polite request, which made him feel like even a bigger heel at that moment. He’d yelled and screamed at these two nurses not four hours ago, calling them both terrible names, and he’d been cruel to Daphne for just trying to help him. He was going to need her help and felt like a weakling admitting it, but that didn’t change those facts.
“I’m sorry I was upset before. This is a lot to handle,” he confessed in a hushed voice.
And felt Daphne squeeze his hand.
“I think everyone understands how difficult this was for you,” she began softly. “It takes a good man to make an unprompted apology – and means even more to those receiving it, Max. Thank you.”
They shared a brief look, interrupted by a nurse.
“I’ll get you a tray, Mrs. Collins…”
Max felt a rush of pride in him hearing Daphne being called that – and saw her frown for a moment, but not before he saw it. Was she not okay with this, with marrying him? Why had she done it then? This was her idea, wasn’t it?
“Mr. Collins, I need to check a few things…” the nurse began and was visibly bracing herself. “I’ll need to get your blood pressure, your temperature, and check the wound.”
His leg.
There weren’t enough four-letter words in his vocabulary in that split second of terror that rushed through his mind. The idea of seeing the carnage of what was left of his limb was horrifying. They were going to unbandage his leg and look at the wound?
Max didn’t want to see it, and he sure didn’t want Daphne to see it!
“No,” he blurted out in a guttural voice and looked at the nurse who froze. Daphne clenched his hand, and he knew he was squeezing hers, but this was something he was going to struggle with until he was ready. “I don’t want to see it.”
“I have to check the wound and redress it…”
“The stump,” he snapped. “It’s not a wound - you want to see my stump of a leg. A wound is a cut, a tear, an injury. What I have is a debilitating disfigurement and a…”
“Stop it, Max,” Daphne said, interrupting his tirade without hesitation – and touched his face, turning him towards her. “She’s going to check your leg, so there is no use in getting upset. You can look away, but I want to see if it’s still infected or how it’s healing so I know what it should look like.”
“I don’t want you to see me like this,” he said through gritted teeth, squeezing her hand and trying not to get hysterical. “Please, Daphne.”
“No,” she whispered, not looking away from him and talking to the nurse. “Can you give us a minute to talk?”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” he countered.
“Max,” she began and sighed heavily. “Can we not argue about everything because you’re not going to win.”
She gave him a wan smile – and for the first time, he realized this was putting a strain on her, too. She’d only been here for a few hours and looked mentally exhausted and on edge, and he barely knew her.
“I don’t want you to see my leg,” he began again and hesitated. “I feel like less of a man and really don’t want anyone looking at it. I know you don’t understand, but if it’s disgusting or pathetic, I don’t want to see your reaction written all over your face.”
“Do you want to leave here someday?”
“What kind of question is that?!” he retorted hotly – and jerked his hand from hers. “Of course, I do… you think I want to…?”
“Max, if you are ever coming home with me at some point, then I need to see how to care for your leg, how to dress your wound, which means I need to see what I’m working with and know what to look for,” she said calmly, not looking away from his eyes. “I’m not the greatest nurse – and not exactly a sympathetic person. ‘Wash here’and ‘don’t touch this’ I can completely comprehend and remember,” she hesitated. “And losing part of a limb doesn’t make you less of a man - nor does being scared.”
