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Chapter 24
Two weeks later
Laila stood at the front desk of Walter Reed Hospital, twisting the fake engagement ring with its gaudy paste diamond on her finger. She hadn’t told anyone she was coming, knowing Mel would try to dissuade her. Knowing that Jase would probably put her name on some ‘do not allow to visit’ list.
Screw that. She’d flown to Washington as soon as Mel told her Jase had been transferred there.
The receptionist finally put down the phone and smiled at her. “You’re here for...?”
“Jase Conway. Jason,” she said, speaking clearly. Firmly. As if she had every right to be here.
The woman frowned at the computer screen. “He just arrived two days ago,” she said.
“I know,” Laila said, setting her hand on the counter so the receptionist would see the engagement ring. “He was sent here sooner than I expected, and it took a little time to make my arrangements.”
“Of course,” the woman murmured, her gaze on the ring. “Did you get the pass you were sent?”
Laila shook his head. “It probably passed me on my way here. As soon as I heard he was being transferred here, I took off. Took me a couple days to get here.”
The woman studied her for a moment, then sighed. “I’d be in a hurry, too,” she finally said. “Do you have a picture ID?”
Laila handed over her driver’s license, making sure to use her left hand. With another glance at the ring, the receptionist studied the license for a moment. Handed it back. “He’s in room 207.” The woman gave her the directions to a separate building and handed her a pass to clip on her shirt. “You can keep the pass as long as your fiancé is here. But please turn it in when he’s discharged.”
“Will do,” Laila said as she attached the pass. “Thank you so much.”
The woman nodded at the signs on the wall to Laila’s left. “Follow the yellow signs. They’ll take you to his building.” Her voice softened. “I hope your fiancé does well with his rehab and is released quickly,” she murmured.
“Thanks,” Laila said. “Me, too.” She adjusted her backpack and followed the yellow signs.
According to Mel, Jase had had surgery in Kabul. The surgeon had stabilized his fractured femur with a surgical plate and repaired as much of the soft tissue damage as he could. But Jase’d been medevacked to Germany, where he’d had two more surgeries. He’d stayed there for ten days and then been transferred to Walter Reed for rehab.
Mel had no idea how long he’d be at Walter Reed. It depended on his progress. She’d said she’d let Laila know when Jase had been cleared for visitors.
Laila had bought the fake engagement ring, operating under the ‘better to ask forgiveness than permission’ axiom. She’d figured it would be tough to refuse to let a wounded soldier’s fiancée see him.
She was desperate to see Jase after watching him get shot in front of her, but she had no idea what to expect when they were face to face. As Laila neared his room, she jittered with nervous energy. She re-arranged the tote bag on her shoulder. Slid her hand up and down the straps. Swept her hands down the thighs of her jeans. No matter how Jase reacted to seeing her, she’d vowed to be understanding. Calm. Logical.
And stubborn enough to refuse to leave, no matter what Jase said.
At the door to his room, she drew in a deep breath. Blew it out slowly and repeated the calming breaths until her hands stopped shaking and the vise in her chest eased. She could do this.
Plastering a smile on her face, she tugged off the fake ring, dropped it in her tote bag and knocked on the door.
“Yeah,” Jase said. “C’mon in.” The dull, expressionless sound of his voice made her heart ache.
Laila pushed the door open and walked into the room. Jase sat up in bed, wearing a tee shirt and baggy athletic shorts and holding what looked like an iPad. Angry red scars criss-crossed his left thigh. His hair was cut very short, and he was clean-shaven. He was thinner than she remembered, and his eyes were flat. Emotionless.
“You taking me to the torture chamber?” he asked without looking up from his screen.
“No,” she said, not allowing her voice to waver. “I’m here to see you.”
The tablet dropped onto the white sheet of his bed, and he jerked his head up. Stared at her for a long moment. She thought she saw joy in his expression, then it fell away, leaving him stone-faced. “What the hell are you doing here, Laila?”
“Visiting you,” she said. “Mind if I come in?”
He stared at her for so long she was afraid he’d say no, then shrugged, as if he didn’t care one way or another. “I can’t stop you,” he said, his voice filled with bitterness. He grabbed the sheet at his feet and dragged it up to his waist.
Was he ashamed of those scars? Laila’s heart ached at the thought. But instead of asking him, she moved to his bed and pulled a chair close to him. Sat down so he wouldn’t have to look up at her. “How are you doing, Jase?”
