Page 52 of Tart
“Amber!” I pulled her back to a standing position and held her there. “You gave me a heart attack,” I said, my heart pounding. “The brace doesn’t even hold you up anymore, does it?” She shook her head, a tear dripping down her cheek when I pulled her into me. “You’re scared. This is the first time you’ve been this scared that the leg is never going to work again.” Her head nodded on my shoulder, and I held her, rocking her gently. “I’m not going to stop taking care of you, Amber. We’ll find a way through this. I know it won’t be easy. I know that I’m not the one dealing with the pain and uncertainty every day, but I am going to be here to support you.”
She grasped me desperately, her fear palpable against my skin. “Thank you, Bishop. I know you want to go camping, but I can’t. I’m staying here. I’m sorry.”
She lowered herself back to the couch, and I ran my finger over the spot on her knee that was red from falling. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t taking you camping, my little tart. I’m not cruel. I understand your feelings about that, even if you think I don’t. I would never do anything to make what you deal with even harder. Do you believe me?”
Her head nodded, but she shrugged. “Maybe not intentionally. I know that my reaction to the mere idea of camping is ridiculous, but I can’t help that. I’ve tried, you don’t know how many times I’ve tried. I decided if I was going to live a relatively normal life, I was going to have to stop trying. I was going to have to stop trying to please everyone else to the point that it crippled me. Summer is hard. I struggle with not obsessively checking the weather to make sure nothing is going to take me by surprise. I will always struggle with that. When it storms, even when I’m in the basement, I’m curled up in a ball sobbing while it rages overhead. If I’m at work, I hide in the cooler until it’s over because I can’t hear it in there. Hay-Hay never says a word, bless her heart.”
I stroked my thumb down her cheek and leaned in for a soft kiss. “You weren’t curled up in a ball sobbing in my basement that night.”
“I was on the inside,” she said, finally laughing a little bit. “You were good at distracting me from the fear. I guess when I’m alone, the thoughts that no one will know I was down there, or that I was hurt, just take over my mind. It’s stupid when it’s just a little summer storm, I get that, but I can’t change it, either.”
“It’s not stupid. I don’t know if anyone has told you this before, but I feel like I should. What you experience during storms is normal after the experience you lived through. It’s normal, Amber. Has anyone ever said you’re completely normal to be out of your mind afraid of something that once tried to kill you?”
She swung her head back and forth. “Never. I was told I needed to be stronger against the emotions taking over my mind. They gave me biofeedback techniques and ways to focus on other things, but that’s hard to do when you’re too scared to remember any of it. I need to be stronger, but I’m not. I’m too weak right now.”
I took her shoulders and turned her to look at me. “You’re wrong. You don’t need to be stronger. Good God, what you’ve lived with and dealt with since the injury proves your strength. Fair warning, if I ever hear anyone tell you to be stronger, I will bitch slap them.”
Her laughter filled the room, and she laughed for a good long time. “I’ll remember that because I’d like to see it.”
I caressed her cheek tenderly and smiled. “I would, but the point is, I know you feel weak right now. You’re not. You’re stronger than I am. You’re beautiful to boot, and this weekend, you’re mine.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere, Bishop. My leg isn’t good. It’s hard to travel, and the crutches make beaches nearly impossible to navigate.”
I placed my finger on her lips. “I know. I have this all worked out. Do you trust me?” Her head nodded against my finger again. “Good. I’m going to get your crutches so you can clean up while I finish the plans I have, okay? Trust me? I’ve got you.”
Her head nodded, and I grabbed her crutches from the floor of the foyer and carried them to her.
“Thanks,” she said, propping them under her arms. “What should I put on?”
“Remember that sundress you wore the first night we were supposed to go to The Modern Goat?” She nodded, and I winked before I headed to my room for a change of clothes.
Twelve
“You were right, thisis the way to do a honeymoon,” I said, floating on the water with the sun beating down on me. My brace and crutches lay forgotten on the dock, and I was enjoying the freedom to just relax without being uncomfortable. Last night we had finally made it to The Modern Goat for dinner. We shared their surf and turf and talked about everything from our childhoods to our college days. I had never been more comfortable with another person in my life.
Bishop laughed from where he was sitting in an innertube and trailing his hands through the water. He wore nothing but a pair of swim trunks, and I couldn’t take my eyes off his chiseled chest and glistening skin. “I’m glad you’re enjoying our staycation.”
