He wants to open his mouth, but I cut him off.
“I’m numb, Dane, except for the parts that hurt all the fucking time. I’m in excruciating pain constantly. And when I’m not? I’m medicated into something that barely even feels like me.”
He frowns at me, hurt in his gaze. “You never told me.”
“Why would I?” I press the heels of my hands to my eyes.
Just breathe.Don’t cry.
“There’s pain therapy,” he says quickly, desperately. “Maybe another surgery, maybe we could talk to someone, figure out…”
“No.”
“You’reback, Alaina. Back with the living, and I’m not letting you walk away from that.”
I drop my hands and stare at him. Shivering arms, bloodshot eyes, his whole body held together by fever, stubbornness, and that same rope he’s been holding for six goddamn years. He’s still trying to keep me here.
My protector is still trying to save me.
But he can’t. Not from this.
Especially not from myself.
“I don’t need your help for this. I can win this shit on my own, and then I can leave it all behind on my own.” I storm down the bus’s aisle, my anger so much easier to hold onto than my pain.
“Alaina!”
Something slams into the floor, and I turn back quickly, my mouth parting at the sight of Dane on his knees. Stumbling and confused, his hands reach for something that isn’t there before he collapses sideways into the wall.
“Fuck,” I curse as I rush forward, catching him just before he crumples completely to the floor.
Gritting my teeth, I drag him back to his bunk. He lands with a grunt, too weak to even sit up again.
“Alaina,” he pleads again, but I leave him behind without another word.
Pulling the switch to open the bus door, I step back out into the night air. The cold slaps my face, but I barely feel it as I walk fast to nowhere, as if I can outpace the burn behind my eyes and the memories of that day.
The day Dane made that promise, the one he’s intent on breaking now. The day I gave myself my real finish line.
And even though I swore I wouldn’t cry again, I do as the memory pulls me in.
I’m sure Dane doesn’t know it, but I can hear the physio’s voice through the crack in the door.
“Her body’s not the biggest issue here. It’s her mind,” he says, exasperated. “She’s not trying. I can’t do anything if she won’t work with me. She’s not even sitting up, let alone putting weight on it. She’s going to lose hip and leg function permanently if she doesn’t start moving. Really moving.”
Silence.
Then Dane’s voice, flat but tight. “Another week. Just give her another week.”
“More than enough time has passed, Dane. The wounds from the surgeries are all healed. Now she needs to work those neglected muscles. She’s still so young, she could recover some of it, but not like this. I know you’re trying to do this your way, but maybe it’s time to think about… a facility. Somewhere she can get the mental help before the physical even starts. She needs more help than I can give her at home.”A pause. Then lower, “I spoke with Mr. Crews. He suggested medication. Something to make her more compliant.”
Compliant.
Bile rises in my throat so fast I nearly choke on it.
I haven’t seen my father eye to eye in months, and he hasn’t asked what I want or even how I am, but sure, he still gets a say.
He gets a say inme.
