Page 28 of Darn Knit All

“Dude.” I shook my head. “You’ve been married for three years. You have kids. Shouldn’t you be over fucking-like-rabbits by now? Surely, you’re moving into the quickie-missionary-while-the-kids-are-watching-cartoons-on-a-Sunday stage?”

“God forbid.” Linc perched on the edge of my desk. “Isn’t today your day off?”

“Mm.”

An electric shock pulsed up the damaged nerves of my amputated limb. The false flag signals indicated I had a cramp in my non-existent calf.

Again?

Phantom pain had become a familiar part of my life. It varied between shooting and burning pains, to full-on cramps. I’d never tell anyone but my therapist, but I sometimes imagined it as a ghost limb, following me around like a specter, desperately trying to reattach itself and reclaim the life it should have had.

Not at all morbid.

Well used to the sensation, I began the process of removing my prosthetic, gritting my teeth against the pain.

“You okay?”

“Cramp,” I managed to bite out. “It’ll pass.”

Linc reached over my desk, pulling a wheat bag from the top drawer of Annie’s desk. “I’ll get this. You need some pain relief?”

I shook my head.

In my last year of high school, I’d made the mistake of accepting a ride from our dad. Walter wasn’t the kind of guy one could rely on. Drunk and a little high, he’d driven us straight into a power pole. The bastard had walked out practically unscathed while I’d lost my right lower limb. Ending at the knee, the leg was the one major difference in appearance between my twin and me.

Not so identical.

The incident changed the trajectory of my life. Medical bills, hospital costs, therapy, not to mention the changes that were required to my house to make it functional. The life I thought I’d have, the life I’d wanted to live, had been taken away.

I’d long ago made peace with my reality, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t grieve. There is a grief that comes with knowing there are paths of your life that you’ll never walk. You can mourn the dreams you had for yourself, and the experiences you envisioned that won’t be achieved, while still finding joy in the decisions you choose to pursue.

Fuck me, I’m a morose bastard today.

Well used to my occasional muscle spasms, Linc returned with the warmed heat pack, handing it to me to lay over my rigid, throbbing muscles.

“Thanks.” I dug my thumbs into the spasming tissue. “I need to talk to you.”

Linc settled against my desk, his expression carefully blank. “Shoot.”

I knew that expression. I despised it.

It was his, I-want-to-help-make-everything-better-but-I-know-better-than-to-offer look. It was the worst, second only to his, I-wish-it-had-been-me-in-that-carlook. He tried to hide it but was never quite successful.

“I need to take some leave.”

Linc’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, when were you thinking?”

“Two weeks.”

“Uh-huh. And for how long?”

This would be the true test of our relationship. “At least six weeks.”

“What?” Linc spluttered. “Six weeks?”

I sighed silently. Dropping my head, I watched my thumbs massage my flesh. “Mai needs help with something. I said I’d do it.”

“For six weeks?”

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