Page 51 of Finally Mine
“It’s in the bottom. I consulted with Luke on this, so a lot of it you can thank him for.”
“New earbuds and an MP3 player?”
“It’s full of get-pumped playlists for therapy, and you can also use it to drown out your mom.”
He pulled out a tiny plastic egg next. “Earplugs.”
“Luke said your mom snores.”
“Like a fucking company of lumberjacks at a chainsaw convention. What’s this? A bracelet?”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I thought you could start accessorizing. No, it’s one of those step-counter heart-rate monitors. It’s what normal people who don’t run half marathons on the weekend use to measure their fitness. And since for the next week or two you probably won’t be hitting a 10K, I thought you could use it with your physical therapy. It’ll sync with your phone, too.”
He stared at it.Since you won’t be hitting a 10K…He could barely hobble to the bathroom and back without breaking out in a cold fucking sweat. “This is cool,Harpoon. Thanks.”
“Seriously? You’re gonna go with Harpoon?” she teased.
He was too tired to play. “We’ll see where the day takes us,” he said, unwrapping a mini chocolate bar and popping it into his mouth.
29
The clinic was a twenty-minute drive north of town. Aldo ate candy and stared pensively out the window, ignoring the sidelong looks Harper sent in his direction. He knew he wasn’t his old self. He didn’t need another reminder.
She called the office to tell them she would be back in later and made some murmurs that he could tell were dodges to questions about him. Everyone wanted the inside scoop on how Aldo Moretta was dealing with coming back in pieces.
“Beth wants me to hug you for her,” Harper said, dropping her phone in the console where she’d probably forget it.
“I have a feeling I’ll be getting a lot of that,” Aldo said grimly. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. He didn’t want their attention. All he wanted was to be left alone.
“I know there’s a certain beautiful brunette who’d be willing to get in line to hug you,” Harper said slyly, twisting the knife she didn’t know he carried in his chest. Seeing Gloria had been a fist to the gut. She was bright and beautiful and happy and hopeful. And he couldn’t be the man she needed. He’d missed his chance for the final time. When she’d looked down, he thought he’d die of shame. When he’d turned his back on her, well, he’d turned his back on the future he’d so desperately wanted.
It was for her own good. And he’d regret it to his dying day.
He grunted and prayed that Harper would drop it. Obviously, the friends hadn’t spoken since his dickheaded production at his mother’s front door. But Aldo’s luck had run out in Afghanistan, and it sure as hell hadn’t come back since. The sooner everyone got used to it, the better.
“Have you talked to Gloria?” Harper asked.
“No.”
“Care to expand on that? I feel like I’m talking to Luke here,” Harper sighed.
“Turn here,” Aldo said, relieved to see the white stone new construction on the right. The whole front of the building was handicap parking, and he swore he’d put his fist through his PT’s face if he or she suggested a handicap sticker for him.
Harper pulled into the lot and eased to a stop at the doors. “I’ll grab your crutches,” she told him.
“I’ll walk from the parking space,” he said with enough snark to dent Harper’s sunny disposition. He was an asshole, and he couldn’t stop himself.
She shrugged. “Fine.” And then proceeded to park in the very last space at the far end of the lot. She took the keys out of the ignition and dared him to say a word. Ignoring her, Aldo stepped out of the car, standing on his good leg. Harper wrestled his crutches out of her minuscule back seat.
“Get your ass in there,” she said, handing over the crutches.
He wasn’t sure what pissed him off more, that he was being an asshole or the fact that he didn’t want to go in there alone.
“You can come in if you want,” Aldo muttered and started for the entrance without looking back.
He worked to keep his face neutral even as moving from the car to the door sapped him of what energy he had. He was already sweating, and he hadn’t done a goddamn thing. It was as if the last thirty-plus years of his life had been all for nothing. Gone in a second, destroyed by one random explosion.
Harper caught up to him and pushed the button that swung the automatic door open. Together, they stepped into a waiting area that still smelled of new carpet and fresh paint. They waited for a few minutes. Not long enough for him to stop sweating before a nurse in annoying floral scrubs called for them.
