Page 70 of All That Glitters
Now, after, I couldn’t figure out how to get back to who I was and I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to go back.
If I didn’t, though, I’d lose everyone I’d ever known, everyone I’d ever called friend. That had been one of the hardest things through it all. The loss of people that I’d known all my life. It wasn’t their fault. It was mine. I’d refused visits. I’d refused phone calls. I’d let text messages go for weeks, months without replying.
The thing was, I didn’t know how to let anyone back in. Helen had been the exception to the new rules I’d set in my life. Some by choice. Some not.
I sat up carefully. I couldn’t always move with as much ease as I once used to. I was stiffer. My muscles and some of my nerves were tight. My joints often hurt. I’d stopped going to physical therapy, but I still worked through the exercises they’d given me and could feel my body getting stronger.
Pain meds were a no-go for obvious reasons, unless approved by the governing body in racing and the kind of meds I would need for pain were on the no-no list. That was fine. I never liked taking those kinds of pills anyway.
Feet on the floor, I stood and slowly moved forward. In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face and avoided my reflection.
Back in the bedroom, I peeled off the shirt I’d sweat through and put on a clean, dry one. I did the same with the cotton pajama bottoms I’d been wearing.
The amount of effort it took sometimes to do the simplest things pissed me off. I was a grown man. I knew how to take care of myself and yet the way I moved, the stiffness… Exercising helped and I’d been adding more and more to my routine as I became stronger, but sometimes, I moved so slow, so timidly, so uncertain of my footing.
I wish I could take the text back, tell Helen not to come now that I was up and moving around, but even then, she’d still show up. She would be concerned. And deep down, I would be glad.
Headlights flashed through the living room window when Helen pulled to a stop.
When she’d been here days ago, I made her strip naked before she got to the door. I wouldn’t be doing that tonight. Nothing at all that happened then would be happening tonight. My mind was in too precarious a state.
The Jeep door shut, the beep for the alarm loud in the quiet that was the cottage and its surroundings.
Seconds passed and there was a single knock. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“It’s open.”
When she turned the knob and stepped through, I felt a small smile cross my lips. This was not the Helen Troye that most people were used to seeing. This was the one only a few of us ever saw.
Baggy jeans. An oversized, long sleeve faded Taylor Swift shirt. Beat up Chucks. Hair up in a messy knot. No make-up, no jewelry.
I’d seen her this way more times than I could count, but this time, this moment something shifted inside me.
Had she been in for the night? Not that she was much for going out a lot. She didn’t go clubbing or go to parties. Maybe she’d been working. Maybe having a late dinner with Hale. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“It’s nothing, Ash.”
Ash. I liked when she called me that. She wasn’t the only one who did, but the way she said it, intimate and personal… It was a sort of balm and my soul ate it up. “I don’t care if you think it’s nothing. I want to know.”
“That’s not part of our arrangement.”
“Hm… Then maybe I need to change the terms. Or explain them further. Everything to do with you is part of our arrangement.”
“Don’t start. Are you alright? Did something happen?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m here because you texted me. So, you first.”
There was something off about her and I would bet my championship trophy that it had to do with Hale, but if I wanted to know for sure, I would have to meet her halfway and I wasn’t a meet anyone halfway person.
“Nightmare. I had one.”
“Do you have them often?”
