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Vince grunted. “Easier said than done.”
Dr. Hopkins chuckled. “Trynot to worry.” When Vince nodded, he began again. “Your memories might surprise you. They may overwhelm you and make you emotional. Or even angry. But that’s normal and all part of the process. It’s essential to communicate with your therapist, your support system, and me when you’re facing difficulties. We can adjust your treatment plan as needed. We all need to focus on setting small, achievable goals. Every step forward, each goal achieved, no matter how small, is a victory. It’s about progress, not perfection.”
“Like I said, Doc, I’ll do anything to get my life and memory back. All I want is a future with Hailey. It’s all I ever wanted.”
I smiled through my tears. I wanted to tell Vince about Hudson right then and there, but knowing how much he’d already been through and his frustration at not remembering that we were married, I just couldn’t bring myself to break him down when he finally found hope and confidence.
Chapter 8
Hailey
I sat behind the wheel, my heart fluttering like a thousand butterfly wings. Crisp air drifted through the open windows as I eased onto the next street. A heavy sense of anticipation hung heavy around us. The sun’s descent cast a warm, golden light over the neighborhood. It had been almost two years since Vince was home. Two years since I held him in my arms. Two years of aching emptiness and sleepless nights, hoping and praying for this very moment—one I thought I was foolish for believing would ever come.
It was an odd change, me behind the wheel instead of Vince. He was always the one behind the wheel whenever we were together. It wasn’t anything macho, but just because he enjoyed driving. And I hated it. I much preferred looking out the window. Since Vince’s disappearance, I’d gotten used to it, and Hudson loved to ride in the car. It was part of our routine to drive around the neighborhood while he sat in the back, and I narrated the happenings going on outside.
“Here we are,” I said as I turned onto our street.
“Home, sweet home. Finally.”
“You remember it?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm. Blue house, white trim. Three up on the left.”
I sighed with relief when he pointed it out.
I hustled to his side of the car after I parked. “Here, let me help you,” I said when Vince opened his door.
“Hailey, I got this. I’m hurt, not an invalid.”
“Right,” I said, clamping my mouth shut. I winced as he pulled himself to his feet. He didn’t want help, but his strained face told me he could have used it. I wrapped my arm around his waist to hold him steady.
“Hailey, I can do this.”
“I know you can. I’m not helping you. I’m holding you. Are you going to deny me that?”
“No.” We both knew I was lying. But neither of us was going to call me out on it. “It feels good.” His words made me smile.
A chorus of barks rang from inside the house. Chewie, our loyal chow-chow, knew I was home. His mixture of howls and yelps was his way of begging me to come inside. I knew what waited for me on the other side of the door. He would jump and prance around me in circles until I patted his head and called for him to follow me to the back, where he would go outside, go potty, and receive a treat for being aGood Boy. It was our normal welcome-home routine.
“Do you want me to let him out?” I asked.
“Yeah. Don’t forget his leash.” His words were music to my ears. It was something he always told me whenever we let Chewie out. I didn’t need Vince to remind me, but it felt good to hear.
I steadied my shaking hand as I slipped the key into the lock. I expected Chewie to jump and dance around in greeting when I opened the door. He always welcomed me home withhellobarks and kisses between his prancing. “I’m here, Chewie,” I said. “Just a second.” I held the screen door open with my foot as I unlocked the deadbolt. Chewie flew past me like a bolt of lightning. “Chewie!” I yelled, fearful he would run down the street and I’d have to chase after him. He’d never run past me before. Vince had trained him to always stay inside when we came through the front door.
Masculine laughter thundered from the driveway. It was good to hear him laugh like this.
Chewie yelped and whined as he lunged at Vince. He leaped onto his hindquarters and wrapped his front paws around Vince’s waist. From where I stood, it looked like he was hugging Vince. Chewie’s tail was a propeller whipping around in excitement. Chewie shoved his head against Vince’s side, his tail wagging furiously as if trying to communicate his own relief at being reunited with his master. He sniffed and licked Vince every place he could as Vince patted and sweet-talked his furry best friend.
“I’m home, buddy,” he said. His words were music to both Chewie’s and my ears. As if knowing what Vince meant, Chewie yelped three times, lowered himself, and nudged Vince’s hand before he licked it. He let loose three more barks and then held up his paw. Vince took it and shook it.
When Vince’s eyes met mine, an instantaneous whirlwind of emotions stormed through me—love, desire, fear, and hope. I saw them reflected in his eyes, too. Despite feeling overwhelmed by everything, Vince’s gaze still held the same tenderness that captivated me the first time we met.
It ripped me apart to watch the man I loved with every fiber of my being struggle with his own emotions. My brave Navy SEAL finally broke down. As his emotions burst through, he leaned against the car for support. He wasn’t steady on his feet yet. He was weaker, more vulnerable.
Wanting to play and not understanding Vince’s condition, Chewie jumped up again.
I rushed forward as Vince pushed Chewie off of him with gentle hands. His hands trembled as he continued to pet Chewie. Whether it was from pain or emotional turmoil, my heart clenched as the man who had always been my pillar of strength currently fought to stay strong. Our eyes met again as I rejoined my guys. I willed Vince to feel and accept my support.
