Page 90 of The Bitter Rival

“I’m Nancy. Your brother’s nurse.” She turns to put a few things into cabinets and looks into the fridge. “It looks like your chef was here. There’s a gorgeous charcuterie tray in here.”

“Yeah. I’m not hungry.”

“You’ll eat something and get in the gym, young man. We aren’t playing the moping game today.” My eyes narrow at her. I’m used to this type of scolding from her in private, but not with an audience, brother or not. “I’m sorry. I hate to see how your good mood from the other day has diminished. Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” I mutter.

“You could get Charlie to find out where his girl lives,” Sam says.

“Shut up, Sam!”

“His girl?” Nancy quickly interrupts.

“Yeah. She can put a smile on his face.”

What the ever-loving hell is happening here?I’ve barely considered this thought before Nancy is walking toward the front door.Where is she going?

She swings the door open, and almost as if he’s heard us speaking of him, Charlie walks in with Boomerang.

“Man, this dog loves the snow. He can’t get enough of it.” Charlie laughs, stomping his shoes on the mat by the front door.

“Charlie, do you know where Sebastian’s girl lives?” Nancy asks.

“What the fuck?” I bellow.

Charlie looks over at me, stunned by the outburst but continues despite it.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, Sebastian? Go over there,” Sam joins the circus.

“Ya’ll have lost your minds. I’m not going over there. I’m going to my room.” I stalk past them and fling myself onto my bed once I finally reach a space devoid of meddlers.

I’ve lain in this same spot for hours, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of nothing but what a dumbass I’ve been to have destroyed my relationship with Bella. I miss her so god damn much it hurts. I’d think I was hollow inside if it weren’t for the constant dull ache that sits in my chest whenever I think of her.

Sitting up, I rub the back of my neck. What would I even say to her? If I saw her again, I would treat it as I did the meeting in the atrium at the hospital. The day I apologized to her for my horrendous behavior, not expecting anything in return. Simply hoping for forgiveness.

This must be the thought that propels me as I head into my closet and find a pair of boots. Sitting on my ottoman, I slide the Timberlands on and scold myself for considering this. I should at least have a plan instead of going over there unhinged. But I know with the way I’ve been feeling, there’s no stopping me now.

Heading for the garage, I try to go slow so as not to bring any attention to my movements. I don’t need Nancy or anyone else asking where I’m going. I’m a little nervous about driving, only because I haven’t attempted it since my weakness progressed, but I wouldn’t put myself behind the wheel of a car if I thought I could harm someone—even for Bella.

I manage to enter the garage unnoticed and slide myself into the driver’s seat after placing my braces in the back seat. As the garage door opens, it hits me. I’d completely forgotten about the ice and snow on the roads. My reaction time is a little slower than usual, but I just need to go slow and take it easy.

Twenty minutes later, I’m blessed to find an open spot near the curb that’ll allow me to pull up without parallel parking. It’s not late, yet even at 6:30 p.m., the skies are completely dark. I turn off the ignition and carefully exit the vehicle and attempt to retrieve my braces from the back seat. The snowplows have been here recently as all of the snow is pushed in steep peaks against the curb. Staying upright in this mess would be an act worthy of a performance artist even if I didn’t have MS.

Looking up the sidewalk toward Bella’s door, my heart is in my throat. I don’t want to contemplate what returning to my car dejected will feel like. I need to think positively. The minute this thought leaves me, my feet fly out from under me as my brace hits the ice. As if it’s in slow motion, my body is suddenly flying through the air like the Saturday morning cartoon characters I remember as a child, before colliding with the hard ground below. There’s no laugh track for this show. This could be disastrous.

Lying here, looking up at the night’s sky, I wonder how long I might lie here before anyone sees me. Have Bella and Austin hunkered down for the night? Most of the neighboring houses look quiet, their porch lights lit as if they’ve welcomed the end of their day. I could catch pneumonia and die out here. I let go of my remaining brace and attempt to reach into my pocket for my phone until I realize I’ve left it in the car.Fuck. Why had I thought this was a good idea?

Suddenly, I hear a noise and try to focus on the source. I don’t need to scare anyone and cause them to fall as well. I hear footsteps shuffling until they stop. Turning my head, I don’t see anyone and close my eyes. I’m soaked down to my boxers. Should I start screaming? Maybe someone will hear me and come out. Or if they call the police, at least they can help me get up.Jesus, what has happened to my life?

Opening my eyes, hoping the universe will ‘send me a sign,’ I find Austin standing over top of me. My eyes instantly well with tears at the sight. I know this has nothing to do with being found. It’s all him. God, I’ve missed this kid.

Before I can speak, he’s reaching down to lift me up. I clutch my braces as he helps to steady me. Hell, this kid is strong. Wordlessly, he helps me to get my bearings and walks me toward the steps. I stop, taking in the ice-covered things, wondering how I’ll maneuver them after what just happened. Maybe I should sit down and-

“Hold on to me,” Austin says as he unexpectedly grabs me by the side. I grab onto the railing with my right hand and hold onto Austin’s neck and shoulders with my left. Slow and steady, we manage the stairs one by one until he opens the door and helps me get to the couch.

In a flash, he runs out of the room and comes back with a towel. “I’ll be right back.” With this, he darts out the front door and returns, holding a package. “My pencils came,” he says, a familiar shine in his eyes. Placing them on the kitchen table, he returns to me and sits down on the floor beside me, helping me remove my boots. I can feel myself getting emotional again. Why did no one tell me MS was going to make me start crying like a baby at the drop of a hat.

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