Page 37 of Unsteady in Love

“I understand. Thank you for helping me out. I don’t know any other way to get him to talk to me,” I confessed, looking down at the floor.

“It happens more than you realize. These warriors have their pride, and after being injured, they push the ones they love away. It takes a strong spouse to get their mate through the tough times.”

“I’m trying,” I croaked out. “I only saw him once, a month ago. I snuck into his room. He refused to see me and then…”

“Stay strong.” The nurse patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll make sure he gets the items, and that he knows they’re from you. Are you going to stay in the area or are you going back home?”

“For now, I’m going to stay here. I’m hoping Holden won’t take long to at least contact me. If he changes his mind, I want to be able to get to him as fast as I can,” I explained.

Giving me a small smile, she turned to set down the box I’d brought for Holden. I’d brought his favorite movie, music, a new phone, and computer, along with some new clothes.

“Good luck, dear. I’ll keep you in my prayers. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

I nodded because I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but if I didn’t try, I’d always wonder and regret not trying to convince him that we could have a life together. A life I wanted desperately no matter the damage.

“Thank you, Rebecca for all your help.” I wanted to hug her for being so nice and seeming to want to help me. I could use all the help I could get.

“You’re welcome. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

Every few days,I called or went by the hospital, and every time, I received the same news: Holden still didn’t want to see me. Rebecca informed me Holden hadn’t opened the computer or turned on his phone. He spent most of his days staring at the ceiling, saying nothing.

Every day I wrote Holden an email. Sometimes I wrote him multiple times a day saying little things I thought he’d like to hear or that would move him to talk to me. I left voicemails in case he turned on his phone first. I was desperate for anything to work. But as days turned to weeks, I slowly started to lose hope. I’d rented a house close to the beach. Atticus and I spent most of our time walking along the water line or sitting outside. It was as if he could feel my pain and wanted to stay close. As far as I was concerned, he was the best dog anyone could ask for.

Then one day as I was leaving the hospital, I saw one of the vets with a service dog. When I got home that night, I researched everything I could, and the next day I contacted a local program that trained dogs for veterans. I was hoping they would take Atticus into their program and train him for Holden. If I thought Holden had PTS before the accident, I was sure he had it now, and he could use all the help he could get. Atticus was the sweetest dog, and I knew he could help if Holden gave him a chance. The only problem was, it would take at least a year or two to train Atticus. I knew it wouldn’t take Holden that long to be released out into the world, and I wanted to be ready for him whenever that was.

I put in an application for Holden and enrolled Atticus into training. Even if he couldn’t be totally trained, I wanted him to be able to help as much as possible. Luckily, we could afford a dog unlike most of the vets who needed them. When I found out how many relied on grants to get the dogs they needed, I decided to donate money to help out a few others who needed one. It was the right thing to do, and Holden had plenty of money.

We were sitting outside on the deck, Atticus chewing on a rawhide while I watched children run in and out of the surf, when my phone rang. I reached over to answer without looking. Alex was the only person who called me, and it had been a few days since we’d last talked. When a gruff, pissed-off voice answered from the other end my heart nearly stopped.

“Why do I have an email stating that I’ve applied for a service animal?” Holden growled out.

“Holden,” I gasped, jumping up from my seat. Atticus barked and jumped up as well. His little tail wagged thinking we were going to play.

“Answer me,” he snarled.

“I wa-wanted to help,” I stammered out. “At first, I was going to try to train Atticus, but the…”

“I don’t give a shit what you were going to do. I don’t want or need a fucking service dog, Prue. And I don’t need you or your help.”

“Oh really?” I shot back. “And what do you have planned for when you get out of the hospital? Do you even have a house to stay in?”

“What I do doesn’t concern you,” he spat.

“Everything you do concerns me, Holden. Just because you want to be an asshole doesn’t make that any less true. Do you really want to lose what we have?” My voice broke on the last word. How could he be so cruel to me after everything we’d gone through? More than once, he’d told me I was his life. That I was what got him through the day. What was getting him through it now?

He sighed with annoyance. “We don’t have anything. Not anymore. Why can’t you understand that? It’s a simple concept.”

“Because I have loved you since I was fifteen years old. Why can’t you understand that?” I asked annoyed.

“You don’t want me,” he answered softly.

“But I do want you, Holden. I’ve wanted you for so long, and now when I finally got you, you’re trying to slip out of my grasp.”

“How can you want half a man?” His voice was broken.

“Even if you were a quarter of a man. A quarter ofyou,I’d still want you. But you’re not half a man. You’re so much more than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

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