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“I just was making a pot of coffee and–”
Rushing to my side, Laney grabs me by the waist.
I lose all my ability to speak.
Her touch is insistent and so steady.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, just felt weak for a second. That’s it.”
“Let’s get you up, huh?” Laney pulls my arm over her neck and helps lift me to my feet.
I can feel the ground under me, but the pins and needles of my legs make me wobbly.
I lean all my weight into Laney.
She’s strong and steadfast. What would I do without her?
“I’m fine.”
We hobble out of the kitchen and back into the den.
“I knowyou are.”
“I just need to sit.”
“You need rest. That’s it.” She nods.
We stop in front of one of the easy chairs.
I grab onto the arms and lower myself into it, Laney reaching after me.
“You got it?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m…” Once I’m in the chair, the embarrassment sinks in. “Fuck.”
“What happened?” Laney crouches down by my legs.
I lean my head back.
I want to tell her to go away. That I don’t want to do this. The shame, it aches inside me.
I want to be strong. For her. Want to be my best self.
For her.
I shrug. “One minute I was fine, and the next I was going down. Numb.”
Laney reaches her hands around my calves. “You can feel okay?”
“Yeah…” Her touch livens up my skin. But it doesn’t return my strength.
“Let me give you a massage.” Laney begins to roll up my athletic pants.
“Laney, please, don’t–”
“It will be good to get your blood flowing and–”
