Page 53 of Manhattan Heart

I’m walking to the kitchen like a seventy year old man just got kicked in the nuts. I didn’t realize I’d feel this…slow, this inadequate.

This part of the recovery wasn’t in the doctor’s information.

I feel crazily insufficient.

I can’t even drive until my six weeks check-up.

I don’t know why it matters; my motor skills are just fine.

Not that India will let me drive even if I attempted to.

She’s threatened to sit on me if I try to go into the office.

“Yeah,” I answer absently.

She’s asked me the same question four times. Today and for the last week.

“What do you fancy to eat? I could make a smoked ham salad. Or call to that place you like that has the sweet potato soup.”

Making it to the kitchen, you’d think I’ve run a marathon with the way I’m huffing in air. I grab a seat at the island, my mind is miles away and here all at the same time. I’m not a good advocate for patience when it comes to this shit. Business deals, yes. If it means I wait for the better outcome for me, I can wait as long as it takes.

I can wait on my wife, because it’s India and she’s worth waiting for.

Being sick… healing, whatever, doesn’t suit me.

“Gray, are you even listening to me?”

I lift my head and she’s glancing over, her eyebrow arched into her blonde hair.

She’s so beautiful that my stomach hurts just looking at her.

“Yeah, I’m listening, sorry. I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I know that. But you will be at lunch, so what do you want?”

“India, I’m fine. I’ll grab something if I want it. Why don’t you go and visit your mom? You’ve been stuck at home with me for days.”

I watch as a frown coats her face and I’m instantly guilt ridden.

I don’t want to be rid of her, far from it.

But I don’t want her to be around my mood either.

Awareness slams into me. Feeling incompetent in front of India of all people, is not something I’m used to and it sits heavy and unyielding on my shoulders as my wife looks at me with sympathy.

Sympathy that I’m fucking useless right now, unable to do most of the things I could do a month ago.

I hate this.

I hate feeling like I’m seconds away from erupting.

“Mom and Hank are away in Boston for two days, remember? Besides, I need to get prepared for tonight.”

Yeah, the crew, as India calls our collective circle of friends, are all coming over tonight. Truthfully, I could do without a party …or quiet gathering as India put it. Just food and drinks, I’m allowed to have and conversation I don’t want to participate in because I know I’ll be asked how I am too many times.

I won’t ever dampen her joy though, so the crew are coming over.

“Do you want to go for a walk? The boys are about due for one.”

---