Page 74 of Falling Slowly
As I reached for a rock ledge to find my next footing, I fumbled. A smaller stone came loose under my foot, and I rolled down with it, scraping my ass along the bumpy surface until I landed against a large pine like a downhill skiing cartoon character. I only realized I’d hurt my ankle when I tried to take another step and it buckled. Pain seared through my left foot,all the way up to my calf. If I hadn’t still been holding onto that pine, I might have fallen all the way down.
“I can’t walk!” I cried. My voice echoed back from the rock wall, amplifying the panic. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
Charlie climbed back up to meet me until I could wrap my arms around his neck.
“Hold on to me,” he said, carefully inching his way down the slope, holding onto trees and exposed roots. “This feels like the ninja training at the gym—which is a piece of cake for me, so don’t worry.” Judging by the way he panted, the words were meant to reassure himself as much as me.
When we made it to level ground, he set me down on a mound of soft grass and rolled up my pant leg to examine my ankle.
“It’s just a sprain,” I said, although I had no idea. Either way, what could he do?
“It’s starting to swell up.” He felt around my ankle, gently pushing his finger into the skin. It felt tight, like a water balloon being filled. The ankle throbbed in sync with my heartbeat.
Once the initial shock wore off, the reality of the situation dawned on me. I couldn’t walk. How were we ever going to get out of this forest?
“Leave me here and keep going, get some help.” I gestured at the direction of the stream. “You can follow the stream to get back up here.”
“Absolutely not. I can carry you.”
I sighed, fighting tears as the pain pulsed through me. “No, you can’t. You already have a backpack. You’re carrying kettles for crying out loud.”
“I’ll leave it behind.”
“What? Your fancy hammock and coffee maker…”
“I don’t care. Give me your bag. I’ll put my phone and valuables in there and we’ll leave the rest. We can come back for it later.”
“Unless the elk find it and use the hammock as part of their mating rituals.” I tried to smile. If I joked, he wouldn’t see how much pain I was in.
“In that case, I’ll let the elk have it. Although I might take the binoculars, so they don’t find the sex tape.”
I laughed a little through a film of tears. I handed him my small backpack, and he transferred a few items into it. Finding his weird water bag, now half empty, he offered me a drink. “We can probably fill it from the stream. It’s bound to be clean. But first…” He went back to his backpack and pulled out the first aid kit. “You’re in pain.”
I took the painkillers he offered and washed them down with the water.
Charlie hung his rucksack on a low tree branch. “Let’s go.”
He crouched down to get me on his back. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a piggyback ride, but it must have been in my childhood. Jack wouldn’t have offered—he’d had back issues throughout our relationship. But Charlie lifted me on his back as easily as he’d thrown the rucksack over his shoulder, locking his elbows behind my knees. I wrapped my arms over his shoulders and rested my chin against his neck, feeling like the biggest nuisance on the planet, yet deeply grateful. If he’d left me sitting here by myself with only pain to keep me company… I didn’t even want to think about that option. But Charlie wouldn’t leave me behind.
“If I’m too heavy, put me down and take a break, okay?” I said into his ear.
“I’m fine.”
Crossing open fields, he kept a good pace, leaping over rocks. But when we entered another forest, he slowed down, takingcare when passing trees so I didn’t bump my sore ankle on anything. After a while, my pain turned into a manageable dull throb. The ankle must have been pumped full of fluids now as I could hardly move my foot, but as the pain subsided, I found it harder to ignore other sensations, such as the familiar scent of his skin and hair, and the way his muscles flexed and moved under his jacket.
I was desperate to find a way out of the forest, yet equally desperate to never again join civilization. Never again to return to the office. Mom was driving here, bringing my daughter. I missed Celia so much I ached, but I knew what that meant. The retreat was over. The fake dating was over. I’d have no reason to ever again share a cabin, bed or hammock with Charlie Wilde.
I inhaled his scent—pine and wood fire mixed with the familiar lemon, trying to memorize every note. This was my last chance. We’d make it out of here. I’d find those morning-after pills and go back to my old life, hoping that Charlie agreed to keep our shared retreat a secret. If word got out that we’d spent a few nights up in the mountains sharing a cabin and drawing nudes, the rumors would follow me around. And if Charlie insisted that I pitched the campaign idea to our client, it would look like I was sleeping with him to advance my career.
I cringed at the thought. I’d lose everyone’s respect. Apart from maybe Teresa and Rhonda. I wondered what Charlie’s Gran must have thought about the messages we’d exchanged.
“Your phone, Charlie.” I tapped his chest with my hand. “Is it working?”
“It’s in your bag.”
“Should we check?” If nothing else, I wanted him to take a break.
Charlie helped me down onto a large rock. He didn’t audibly groan, but I noticed the way he straightened his back androlled his shoulders. I was a burden. Literally. I handed him my backpack, and he found his phone.
