One Christmas Wish by Sara Richardson Page A

Isaac?”
    It’d gotten easier since he’d seen her. Not that she’d want to hear that, either. “It’s funny. I wanted to come back for so long.” He’d wanted it like nothing he’d ever wanted in his life. He’d wanted to see beauty and good instead of the desolation, the unending destruction. “Then when I did, I realized everything had changed. Life moved on without me. I’d changed.” Wow. How did he find it so easy to talk to her? Most of the time he sat in his psychologist’s office in complete silence, the man nodding and jotting notes, even though he hadn’t said a damn word. But Julia…she’d understand more than most people. She’d had her fair share of trauma. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve already lived the most important part of my life, you know?” That was the hardest part of coming back. “I mean, what could possibly be left?”
    Her eyes closed and her hand flickered like she wanted to reach for him. He hoped to God she wouldn’t because one touch like that and he’d forget about giving her space and pull her right into his lap.
    “There’s so much left for you, Isaac,” she said, all confident and even, like she could read the future.
    He believed her. He knew that in his head. But there were days it was hard to convince the rest of him. “You get so used to being over there. Having that crazy sense of purpose every single day. Always being on alert, focused.” Being surrounded by the guys. The ones you’d sworn to protect. The ones who risked everything to protect you. “Then when you get out, you’re lost. Like you have to find a whole new purpose for your life.” And there was no one to show you how to do it. How to reintegrate into normalcy when you still carried the images of death, all of the regrets for what you’d been forced to do…
    “You’ll have a great life.” This time Julia did take his hand. She squeezed it tightly in hers. “You’ll get married and have kids and be the best dad.”
    He absorbed her touch, her strength. Somehow it made him feel more complete. “What about you, Julia?” What kind of life did she want?
    She pulled back, her eyes avoiding his again. “I’ll never get married,” she said, as though she’d been waiting to inform him of that fact for hours.
    The finality in her voice made him flinch. “What?”
    “I don’t want anyone to take care of me.” Her head shook. “I won’t force a man into waiting on me for the rest of his life.”
    “ Waiting on you?” He could hardly talk, what with the anger crowding his throat. How could she write it off—how could she just accept that?
    “Yes. Waiting on me.” Her voice rose. “Doing exactly what you’re doing. Carrying me around. Getting stuff for me. It’ll get old after a while. Trust me.”
    He scooted to the edge of the couch. He wanted to shake her but he knew better. “You would do things for him, too. Don’t you see that?” How could she give up on ever having a significant relationship because of her limitations? “That’s what a marriage is, Julia. So sure, your husband would do things for you. Not because he feels obligated but because he loves you. Which means he wants to serve you.” God, if she gave him the chance, he’d gladly carry her around for the rest of his life. Small price to pay for Julia’s compassion and strength and…his gaze lowered down her body….
    Raising her hands to the wheels of her chair, she turned herself slightly so she faced the fire instead of him. Her chin had that stubborn lift. Reminded him of all the times he and Ben had told her she couldn’t tag along with them. “You can’t stop me,” she’d always say. And they knew she was right.
    But he wasn’t about to let this go.
    “You’d do things for your husband, too. You’d make him laugh.” Because Julia was funny as hell. “You’d tell him the truth.” She definitely wasn’t afraid of that. “You’d always be there for him. You’d make him happy .”