Charlotte Hawkes – The Army Doc's Secret Wife (страница 8)

There’s always a choice. The thought crept into his head before he could stop it. You just made the wrong one.

‘That’s why I need to push my body. Recover. Then I won’t need to be discharged into anyone’s care,’ he spat out.

‘That isn’t going to happen, Major.’ Dr Fields strode into the room, one of his interns by his side.

Dammit, that blasted smile of adulation again.

‘Ben, this isn’t just about your physical recovery. Even if your rehabilitation continues on this fast track you’ve put yourself on—and I highly doubt that it will, since I think you’re pushing yourself far too hard and will end up doing your body more harm than good—I would still need to know you had someone to stay with during the last part of your recuperation. Someone to support you, talk to you, observe you and make sure they’re on hand if there happen to be any unforeseen complications.’

‘If you’re talking PTSD, Doc, just come out and say it.’ Ben shook his head. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You might not want to admit it...’ the doctor spoke gently ‘...but the nightmares which wake you in the night, have you screaming out in a cold sweat, are a symptom of PTSD. It’s still relatively mild at this stage, and only natural after all you’ve been through, but the longer you refuse to deal with it, the worse it will get.’

‘There are men out there who have suffered a lot worse than me,’ Ben growled, not wanting to be having this conversation. ‘Buddies of mine who lost limbs or didn’t even make it. I’m already back on my feet. I’ve nothing to complain about.’

‘Which is the problem.’ Dr Fields sighed. ‘Still, we’ll save that for another day.’

No, they wouldn’t. Ben gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He was fine, even if he didn’t deserve to be. But he needed to get out of here.

His eyes slid to Thea. For all her bravado now, he could still remember her standing by his bedside in those first few days, her face white with fear and concern for a man she hadn’t seen in five years. He clenched his fists; she’d been dragged into this out of some misplaced sense of obligation but it had nothing to do with her. There was no way he was about to let her take responsibility for his care. Her unfailing loyalty was her downfall.

He could only imagine how much she must have resented being summoned here. How much she must hate him—dragging her into a marriage in order to fulfil his own need to honour his promise to her brother. Only to give in to his baser desires, his long-standing attraction to her. So what if they had both shared the attraction at one time? He’d had no right—it hadn’t been part of the plan. And, anyway, what kind of man bedded his dead best friend’s grief-stricken sister?

‘Ultimately, Ben, your body still has a lot of healing to do, and I am concerned that you’re driving yourself too hard. You need to back up a little, or you risk doing permanent damage.’

‘I hear you, Doc.’ Ben nodded flatly. No chance. He was out of here as soon as they all left him alone.

Dr Fields turned away from Ben to the intern. ‘Dr Thompson—since Major Abrams isn’t feeling compliant, I suggest you run those tests after all. Time-consuming, yet non-costly,’ he added pointedly. ‘I may not be able to stop Major Abrams from destroying the body I worked so hard to repair, but I can slow him down. At least for a few hours.’

‘Really, Doc? Pointless tests?’ challenged Ben.

‘They aren’t pointless if they stop you from hauling your butt out of here the minute we walk out the door for another set of exhausting laps. Now, Dr Abrams—’ Ben started, and then realised that Dr Fields was addressing Thea. ‘Have you got a moment?’

Ben resisted the uncharacteristic compulsion to get up and throw the chair out of the window. For a start, he doubted he’d have the strength. And secondly he never let his temper get the better of him. He never let any emotion get the better of him—hadn’t his father always drilled into him the need to keep a tight, unrelenting control over all his emotions as all times? He’d be ashamed of Ben if he knew how his son had used Thea five years ago. Not that his father had ever been proud of him—even when he’d followed in the Colonel’s footsteps into the army.

Ben shut down the familiar sense of failure, but it had already got a grip, and as the intern began his nonsensical tests Ben couldn’t deny that part of him was grateful for the excuse to take a break—if only for an hour of rest. It was probably the same part of him which was finding it so damned painful to put one foot in front of the other as he shuffled along at such an interminably slow pace.

Weakness, he thought with disgust, and his father’s words echoed in his ears. Weakness has no place here.

* * *

Ben grunted with effort as he executed a one-armed pull-up out of the wingback chair and into the wheelchair which would allow him off the ward without attracting attention. Ever since Thea had visited yesterday that intern had held him hostage, running unnecessary test after test. He hadn’t managed to get out once, and it had left him feeling irritable.

Yet he couldn’t deny that his body felt stronger than ever after a full twenty hours of rest. Maybe today was the day to push himself to walk outside in the fresh air. Once he was outside, in the quieter areas of the hospital grounds, he could discard the unwanted lump of metal and force his body not to be so weak. Dr Fields was wrong. He needed to push harder, not less.

He propelled the wheelchair along strongly with his good arm, only stopping once he’d reached the peaceful gardens outside and found a quiet spot. With a deep breath he pulled himself to an unassisted standing position. So much for a walk. He didn’t think he could even take a step. Thank goodness no one could see him like this—weak as a kitten and utterly tragic.

‘So now you’re trying to kill yourself trying to walk around outside the hospital, without even a wall to lean on?’

His head jerked up. It was an effort to stay upright, but he’d be damned if he fell over in front of her. In front of anyone.

He lashed out before he could stop himself. ‘What the hell are you doing here? Are you following me?’

Thea blanched visibly at his hostility and he immediately felt ashamed of himself. Yesterday she’d been so strong, so unintimidated, he had forgotten how easily undermined she could be. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her, yet he had to stay resolute. Thea was only here because the Army had contacted her as his next of kin—as his wife.

His wife. The words echoed around Ben’s head, taunting him.

For five years there had been no contact between them, and these sure as hell weren’t the circumstances in which Ben would ever have chosen to have her back in his life. When he was helpless and unable to provide for her...to protect her. A wave of self-loathing washed over him. He wasn’t even a proper man any more. Just a shell of a man who couldn’t walk without leaning heavily on a wall, a rail, a walking frame.

Pathetic, he thought scornfully.

He needed Thea to leave. Now. And surely she wanted to leave, deep down? She couldn’t want to be with him now. No one could. He had to convince Thea that her duty was done, that he was fine and that he didn’t need her. Then she could leave, get on with her life.

He steeled himself. ‘Hell, Thea, can’t you see that I don’t want you here?’

‘I don’t understand what I’ve done to make you hate me so much.’

As fast as the anger had arrived, it disappeared. Hate her? What on earth made her think that? If anything, it should be the other way around.

Suddenly he felt exhausted. He didn’t want to fight with her any more. He just wanted her to feel free to go back to her own life whilst he concentrated on his recovery.

‘I’ve never hated you.’ Ben spoke quietly. ‘But our marriage was never meant to be anything more than on paper. You shouldn’t be here now—this isn’t your responsibility. I was just trying to make you see that.’

‘If you don’t want me here, then answer me something.’

‘Answer you what?’ he asked, wondering why he felt as though he was walking into some carefully set trap.

‘Why am I still listed on your Army paperwork as your next of kin?’

Ben felt his breathing stop, before exhaling with a whoosh of air. So he was right—she was only here under obligation, because the Army had called her. She resented him for it, and he couldn’t blame her.

‘I left you on the Army paperwork because we were married. If I’d put down someone else as my next of kin it would have raised questions.’

‘I see.’

Something flashed across her face, but it was gone before he could identify it.

He’d also left her on it so that she would always have a direct means to get in touch with him if she ever needed his help. He’d even hoped she would—especially in those first months after their wedding night. After all, they hadn’t used protection. He supposed it was a blessing that nothing had ever come of it; in his experience an absent soldier never made a good dad. And yet he suspected a tiny part of him had once hoped otherwise. Not that he could say that now.