I’ll Be There (2 page)

It didn't sound like it to Zach. It sounded like everyone was gearing up to wash their hands of him. “That's not fair, Dad,” he said. “There's no timeline for when I'll be better, or even
if
I'll be better.”

“There would be if you'd do the therapy your doctor prescribed and make an attempt to help yourself.”

“You don't think I've tried?” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how freaking much I've been through already? They tell me I'll walk again and be just like I was before, but I don't see it happening. I still have spells where I can't feel a damn thing, and when I
can
feel, it hurts like hell! So until you've had your entire body broken, don't think you can preach to me about hurrying up and healing. It's not that easy!”

“And when have you ever walked away from a challenge?” Robert yelled back. “For crying out loud, Zach, ever since you were a kid, you've refused to be told you couldn't do something. You challenged your mother and me in every aspect of your damn life! But now? Now that it really counts and it's really hard, you're going to sit here and quit?”

“I'm not quitting! I'm just—”

“I think,” Robert interrupted, “that up until now, everything in your life has come easily to you. You were a naturally gifted athlete. School and academics required very little effort from you. Starting this office and getting it off the ground, while challenging, still seemed to go according to your plans. But this injury? This accident? It's messed with your psyche. When you didn't see immediate results, you gave up and quit. It's not happening fast enough for you. Well, news flash, son, no one said it was going to.”

“You have no idea how painful it is,” Zach said through clenched teeth.

“I don't,” Robert said solemnly, “and I hate more than anything that you have to go through it. If I could, Zach, I'd do it for you; I'd take the pain on myself. But I can't. This is something only you can do. You have to decide if you're going to fight for it or if you're going to let it defeat you.”

Zach stared defiantly at his father for a solid minute. Seriously, did the old man have any idea the level of pain he was dealing with? Did he even know most days it took a Herculean effort just to get out of bed and move to a chair? Or the humiliation of needing someone to help him get dressed or take a shower?

“I think by taking the responsibility of the company off your shoulders, you can put your focus on your physical therapy,” Robert said to break the silence.

“This branch of Montgomerys is
mine
,” he growled. “I know Ethan was there with me from the beginning and I appreciate everything he's doing, but you have no right to put him in charge. It wasn't your decision to make.”

“What choice did I have?” Robert said with frustration. “We can keep going around and around in circles on this. You can't have your cake and eat it too, Zach! You don't want to work and there's a company to run! Enough now! The decision is made!”

Zach tried to stand up but his legs wouldn't support him and he fell right back down into his seat. He yelled out a curse of frustration and wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. Thankfully, his father hadn't rushed to his side to offer his help. He hated when people took pity on him and fussed around him like he was an invalid. Taking a minute to calm himself down, he flexed his legs until he had the feeling back in them completely before turning his attention back to his father.

“Please,” he said as calmly as possible. “I'm really trying to find a balance here. I don't like asking for help. I don't like
needing
help. What…what can I do to prove to you that I'm trying?”

Robert's expression remained neutral. “For starters, you have to stop firing the therapists. You're not going to get better on your own, Zach. You need them.”

“But they're idiots.”

“No, they're not. They know what they're doing and you need to listen to them. In this situation, they're the experts, not you.”

“Fine,” he murmured. “So if I do the therapy you'll back off firing me?”

“No.”

“What the
hell
, Dad? I just asked you what I had to do and you said therapy and I agreed!”

“That's only part of it.”

If Zach had been able to stand, he would have, and thrown the old man physically out the door. This whole situation was enough to make him crazy and he was tired of being played with. “Lay it all out then, for crying out loud!”

“You do the therapy twice a day as prescribed…”

“Done.”

“And you get back to work.”

“I'm not going to the office,” Zach said quickly, nearly panicking. There was no way he wanted anyone to see him like this. The only way he'd go back to the office was when he was fully recovered and back to the way he'd been before the accident. “It's too soon,” he finally said. “I don't need an audience watching me every time I fall on my face or can't get up from my seat.”

“I didn't ask you to come back to the office. The office will come to you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You're going to get back into the habit of a normal workday—with the exception of taking time to do your therapy sessions. But every day you are going to have some responsibilities pertaining to the business to take care of. You're going to get up to date on new projects and new clients, and then we'll start easing you back via phone conferences.”

If Zach had felt defeated before, it was nothing to how he was feeling now. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice cracking on the last word. “Why can't you let me do this at my own pace?”

“Because you're not doing it,” Robert said sadly as he came and sat down beside his eldest child. “I can't sit back and watch you give up on life, Zach. You're asking too much. You need to face what's happened to you and move ahead with your life. Sitting here and hiding away from the world is not the way to do it.”

“You don't know…”

Robert chuckled. “I do. None of us are guaranteed a perfect life. Some of those patients we saw when you were in the hospital up in Alaska have no hope of recovery. You do. Don't you think those people would give everything to be in your shoes? To know they'd be able to walk again?”

Zach couldn't help but remember the other climbers who had fallen with him, and his gut clenched. One of them was permanently paralyzed from the waist down and the other had lost his leg from the knee down. He knew what his father was saying was right and yet…

“What if I can't?”

“Can't what?”

“Walk again.”

Everything in Robert softened. It was the first time Zach had even hinted at his fears. Reaching out, he took his son's hand in his. “You and I both know you will. You've already made great progress.”

Zach shook his head. “Some days I can do it, and other days my legs won't cooperate.” He looked up at his father. “I don't know what I'll do if I can't walk again, Dad.”

“You'll never have to find out,” Robert said quietly, “because I have every faith in you that you're going to overcome this and be just fine.”

Emotions were clogging Zach's throat so he nodded. They sat quietly, side by side, for several minutes before Zach reached over and hugged his father. “I wish I had your confidence on this one.”

“Just give it time. Let me call the therapist in. Let's get started right now.”

Panic nearly choked him. It was one thing to say he was going to try with the therapy; it was quite another to be forced to jump right in. “Dad,” he began, “you just said to give it time and then you immediately start to cram it down my throat. You need to back off a bit and let me handle this. I'll do the therapy, but you have to…just let me do this my way.”

Robert jumped up, the peace from a moment ago completely gone. “No. I knew you agreed too easily to this. You're going to keep jerking me around and I'm like a damn dog chasing his tail. It's now or never, Zach. I'm not waiting on you anymore. Either you're serious about this or you're not.”

“I
am
serious, but you show up here today and drop this…this…bombshell on me and just expect everything to change and be all right? Well, it doesn't work that way!” he yelled.

“You have to at least try!” Robert said with frustration. “You have to put in a damn effort! How do you expect to be the man you were before the accident if you don't try? Isn't that your goal? To be that guy?”

“You know what?” Zach said and forced himself to his feet. His crutches were next to the couch and he quickly reached out and planted his hands onto the grips so he could face his father. “No matter how much you push or yell or threaten, I'm not going to be that man ever again. It doesn't matter how much I want it, it doesn't matter how much you want it. Look at me!” he yelled. “I'm never going to climb any more mountains or jump out of any more airplanes. I'm reliant on a pair of damn crutches to get me wherever I need to go and that is not the person I want to be! Maybe it would have been better if the damn fall had killed me!”

Robert was momentarily stunned silent. This was the most they had talked about any of this, and he'd had no idea his son was struggling quite so much. It all made sense and it just frustrated him even more that there wasn't anything he could do to make Zach feel his life wasn't over.

“I'll do your damn therapy and I'll work from home and play at absentee-president, but you don't get to tell me how or where or when. And if that's too much to ask of you then you can have the damn company,” he spat. “There isn't a quick fix here and shame on you for trying to force one.”

A sigh escaped before Robert could stop it. “I'm not trying to force a quick fix. I'm trying to encourage you not to give up. You're my son and I love you, and I can't bear to sit back any longer and watch you just shut yourself off from everything anymore! I can't do it!”

“Then do us both a favor and don't. Go back east. You've done all you can here and honestly, I don't want to deal with you anymore. I want you to go.” His words were calm and did nothing to convey the anger, the hurt, the anxiety coursing through him. He was shaking so hard he feared the crutches wouldn't hold him up but he still held on for dear life.

“Zach…”

“No, I'm serious. We're done.”

Robert stood rooted to the spot and stared at his son. Five minutes ago he thought they were fine, and now… He hung his head in defeat. “It doesn't matter to me if you climb a mountain or jump out of a plane, Zach. It never did. Those weren't conditions on my love for you. I just want you to be happy.” With that, he grabbed his jacket and walked out.

Zach waited until he heard his father's car pull away before reaching for the glass he'd left sitting on the coffee table and heaving it at the wall. The glass shattering wasn't nearly satisfying enough.

Nothing would ever be enough again.

He slowly made his way across the room and sat down on the chair he had positioned to look out over the West Hills. It was peaceful, it was quiet. It was the only thing he'd had to look at for a long time. Who knew, when he'd purchased this house because of the spectacular view, he'd come to despise it so much? The home that used to be his haven was now a prison.

One of his own making.

Zach growled as he shifted to get more comfortable in the chair. It wasn't as if he had asked to fall off a mountain, but he never expected the recovery process to be like this. The doctors and therapists had all offered him serious pain meds but he had refused them all. He wasn't a weak man and he had a high tolerance for pain.

Or at least he thought he had.

With every little sign of improvement came more pain than Zach thought a human being could bear. He might not even mind it if he felt he was getting somewhere. But along with regaining feeling and range of motion came the uncertainty. There were days he had feeling in all the places he was supposed to, but other days? Nothing. The doctors felt it was nerve related but Zach wasn't so sure. Unfortunately, until the rest of the swelling went down—and God, when was
that
going to happen?—he was stuck.

Everyone thought they understood what he was going through. They felt they had all the answers on what he needed. They didn't know shit. He wouldn't wish this kind of hell on his worst enemy. Turning his head, Zach glanced at the bar in the corner of the room. Two shelves lined with some of the finest liquor money could buy. Just a drink or two and he might not even care if he felt anything below the waist or not.

He cursed. It was no better than dealing with the pain meds and he knew he was stronger than that.

His head fell back against the chair as he closed his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't want to get better or that he didn't want to go back to work. He wanted all of those things, but he wanted them
now
. Patience had never been his strong suit and with the way things were going now, it would be a freaking lifetime before he felt comfortable being around other people again.

It was bad enough his family had to see him like this. And Ethan. There was no way he wanted to be on display like some sort of curiosity in a freak show. He was the strong one, the athletic one. He knew that was how people thought of him and saw him.

There was no way he wanted anyone to look at him with pity…or worse. It would just about kill him to have people look at him and think how the mighty had fallen. Zach hoped that even if someone dared to think it, they'd have the decency to keep it to themselves. Unfortunately, he
had
been a cocky son of a bitch, and there were undoubtedly hordes of people who would love to see him in this weakened state.

Dammit.