Chapter Eleven #3
Half an hour later, they were both clean and lying in bed together. Harper had her head on Linc’s shoulder and one arm flung across his chest. Her knee was hitched up and resting against his thigh. She was a comfortable weight against him, and once again, Linc felt grounded by the feel of her.
“Is this okay? I’m not hurting your shoulder?”
“It’s the other one that was hurt,” Linc told her.
“Oh. Good. Linc?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I’m sorry you had to go through what you did.
But I disagree about the hero part. I mean, I understand why you think the way you do, but being a hero isn’t just about grand gestures or surviving huge newsworthy disasters.
I think heroes are made every day, by people doing extraordinary things when they really want nothing more than to give up.
You surviving the way you did, putting one foot in front of the other, even though it hurt like hell and you didn’t think you could continue, and staying out of North Korean hands . . . that is heroic.”
Her words settled over him like a warm blanket. Kind of the way she physically felt lying against him. He thought about what she said for a moment. He didn’t think he’d ever see himself as any kind of hero, but he could understand where she was coming from.
“If that’s the case, then you’re just as much a hero as I am.
You picked yourself up from that alley and kept on going.
You made the incredibly unselfish and difficult decision to keep your baby.
A child conceived because of rape. And you haven’t held that against Kash, not for a single day.
You’ve raised him to be an amazing kid, and he’ll be an even more amazing adult. That’s heroic in my eyes.”
He heard Harper sniff against him. “Thanks, Linc. That means a lot, coming from you. Someone I admire and look up to.”
“And your words mean the world to me too for the same reason,” he said softly.
“If you wake up later . . . if you have a nightmare, wake me up,” she ordered.
“Okay.” But he was lying. There was no way in hell he was waking Harper if he couldn’t sleep.
“I mean it,” she said sternly, lifting her head to glare at him.
Linc chuckled. She was adorable when she tried to mama-bear him. “All right, all right. Don’t go all feral on me.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t agree to wake me,” she grumbled, as she put her head back on his shoulder.
Smart. This woman was too smart for his own good.
“I’m a little raw right now, Harper. I have no doubt that my dreams aren’t going to be good, considering I just relived the worst week of my life.
But I promise that when I do wake up, I’ll try not to think too much, and I’ll be much better off lying here holding you than pacing the house like I usually do. ”
Harper hugged him and sighed. “I wish there was more I could do for you.”
“You’re doing it. Listening, being here, not turning away in disgust when you heard about the poop thing.”
She chuckled a little next to him. “Linc, I’ve had a baby.
Not only is childbirth messy, I think there was also poop involved.
Not to mention, babies are pretty disgusting themselves.
I’ve been pooped on, peed on, thrown up on, and washed more urine-soaked sheets in the middle of the night than I can count.
Of course I wasn’t turned off or disgusted by what you went through.
The human body is amazing and repulsive all at the same time.
You have to forgive yourself for what you had no control over.
That’s what you should concentrate on—not bodily fluids. ”
Linc was silent as he digested Harper’s words.
She was right.
Damn it, she was right. He’d spent years beating himself up for the way his body had failed him in that jungle. But if it had happened to one of his wingmen, if it had been one of their jets that had crashed, and they’d been through what he had, would he think less of them?
No. Definitely not.
So why was he being harder on himself than he’d be on literally anyone else?
“You’re right,” he whispered.
But there was no response from Harper. She was dead weight against him, breathing heavily, sound asleep.
Linc smiled. The trust she’d shown him tonight by opening up about what happened to her, the empathy while listening to his story, not pulling away, not even for one second, and for being in his arms now, especially after what had happened to her at the hands of her fake agent . . . it was humbling.
Walking for a week through enemy territory didn’t seem nearly as difficult as what she’d been through. Harper had been struggling for over twelve years. Linc almost felt ashamed for being as affected as he was by what had happened to him. He’d had it easy compared to what Harper had endured.
He could almost hear her scolding him in his mind. Telling him that comparing horror stories wasn’t cool. That it wasn’t a competition.
And she’d be right again.
He closed his eyes and tried to simply be in the moment. To enjoy having Harper against him. To feel her warmth all along his side. To appreciate the soft bed and warm blankets. To listen to the wind blowing outside, and be glad that he was inside. With one hell of an amazing woman in his arms.