But I loved my wife, so I kicked off the track pants and pulled my shirt over my head. They had fixed the scar on my cheek when they redid my face, bu... my body was another matter. There were small clusters of scars on my arms, chest, and even my back where the shrapnel had hit. There was also a pretty good scar where they’d had to put my intestines back in place, as well as a few obvious bullet holes.People tried not to stare but couldn’t help themselves. After about an hour they got used to. I think only for a moment rather or not to grab a beer. But I deny myself the pleasure.I want to call out for my wife but I stop myself and began to search for her, kicking off my loafers off in the living room to better silence my steps. I walk about the down stairs checking the spare room and down stairs bath. Then I make the short climb up the stairs and begin to check the other spare room. The one we hope to fill with our offspring one day. I check in the upstairs bath room and then to our. More

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