Page 61 of For All It's Worth
Chapter Twenty Five
Charlie
Idon’tknowhowlong I spent sitting on the cold tile of the kitchen floor. Time was pretty meaningless when it felt like the bottom had fallen out of my world.
That had been a pretty hard-core rejection. So where did it leave me and Max? Were we over before we’d started? What the fuck was going on?
Eventually, I got up and dusted myself off, deciding to finish cleaning up the kitchen and switching my brain off with activity. I’d have to wait for him to get in touch.
A drink sounded pretty good, but I wouldn’t undo months of progress. I was so close to six months sober.
A text ding sounded and I searched for my phone for a few minutes before giving up and using the function on my watch to find it.
“I’m here,” came the robotic-sounding voice as my phone screen lit up between the cushions of the couch.
I picked it up and opened my notifications, my heart leaping at the text from Max.
Max: I’ll explain everything tomorrow. Come over around four? We are okay, I promise. I just freaked out. *heart emoji*
It took me a minute to process. He said we were okay, but I still had this prickling feeling, like my skin was too small for my body and every movement I made would have me bursting out all over the place.
I rubbed at my chest absentmindedly, before texting back, looking for reassurance.
Charlie: Are you sure I didn’t do something wrong?
He replied immediately.
Max: I’m sure. You’re perfect. See you tomorrow? I’ll make us dinner after we talk.
Charlie: *thumbs up emoji* See you tomorrow *heart emoji*
Dinner after a talk meant that he wasn’t breaking up with me, didn’t it?
I sat and stewed in the silence of the apartment until a key in the lock drew my attention.
“Charlie? You okay?”
Relief filled me at seeing Henry’s worried face. He came around the sectional to sit next to me. I leaned into him and he slung an arm around my shoulders pulling me close.
The contact was all I needed before the events of the night came spilling out. Although it helped to talk it through, Henry had no advice for me.
“Sounds like there’s something going on with Max. Not you though,” he consoled me.
“Yeah, I mean I tried to slow it down.”
“You did.” Henry shuffled back and let out a groan.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I took a knock to my leg.” He indicated his prosthetic. “I just need to take it off. Maybe ice my knee.”
Henry reached down to remove the prosthetic, unclipping the suspension that wrapped just above his knee. He slipped the stump of his leg from the socket, the liner flexing with the movement.
I bent to take a hold of the prosthesis and gently laid it on the couch next to him, while he slipped off the sock he wore under the artificial limb to protect his skin. There was a noticeable darkening of the skin around his knee and I knelt to examine it, running a finger around it, careful of the scar tissue.
I glanced up at Henry. “Sorry, I should have asked. Is this okay? Does it hurt?”
“You don’t mind touching it?” He asked, his voice coming out gruff.
