Page 82 of Rising Star

Hot tears welled in my eyes, and I used my shoulder to wipe them off.

My earlier confidence shattered.

Sliding to the ground, I studied the state of the kitchen floor, my shoulders heaving with suppressed sobs.

My tears multiplied, and I choked on them as I hollered Sam’s name. A mixture of fury and despair boiled in my veins. And it drained the sound of my voice.

How had I become so dependent on everyone else?

From where I sat, I could hear the steady rhythm of his snoring. I called his name again. Once more, my voice died as it left my mouth when I hiccupped. I had no more fight left in me. I had to go. To leave. To relieve the people I love from the burden I had become.

My heart fractured in my chest.

How would I ever be able to say goodbye?

24

SAM

I woke up to the sound of pots and pans slamming. It took me a beat to patch together last night’s events. Without even trying, my lips drew into a smile I had no intention to conceal.

“Babe, come back to bed,” I called out, propped on one elbow, desperate to catch sight of Madison from the comfort of my bed. “We can tackle breakfast later. I wanna cuddle. And do more dirty things to you.”

Her figure appeared in the doorway, but instead of a grin shaping her lips, a deep wrinkle marred her forehead.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, taken aback by the wrath I could read on her features. “Come here.”

She eyed me, her crutches resting against her ribcage, helping her to keep her balance.

“I’m just done with all this.” She pointed around with her hand. “It’s not working. I tried, but it’s not.”

Her words made no sense. What happened to the comfort and elation we experienced earlier?

I jumped to my feet, slid into a pair of sweatpants, and neared her. “Hey, hey. Talk to me.” My hands closed on her upper arms, but she yanked away from my touch. I blinked, unsure if I was awake after all. “I don’t understand. This morning you were happy. What changed?”

“Sam, I’ll never be okay again. Can’t you see that? I can’t even fetch a glass of water on my own or cook breakfast without being clumsy and pain paralyzing me. I’m not useful. Now there’s an egg and water mess all over the floor, and I’m at risk of breaking my other leg. Congrats on getting a crippled girlfriend. By being here, I’ll just complicate your life. I won’t even be able to watch over the girls on my own. How pathetic have I become? Please don’t answer. You should send me back home.”

“Home? I thought you said last night your home was wherever I was.”

She blinked, and the intensity in her eyes magnified instead of vanishing.

I spoke before she could say something else she didn’t mean. “Stop with the bullshit. Sure, we gotta find our footing. You’ve never resided on a bus before. Even less with crutches. It’s not the most practical place to live, I agree, but we’ll figure it out. Together.”

I stepped forward, but Madison blocked me with a crutch. “Don’t. Don’t come closer. Can’t you see it? We shouldn’t be together. It doesn’t make any sense. I realize it now. Perhaps the accident was life trying to teach me something. To prevent us from getting too deep before it was too late. Whatever it is, I can’t be here. I’m suffocating. I long for air. And a fucking break.”

“Maddie. No. Listen to me.” My tone sounded harsh, but I didn’t care. She had to hear me out.

She raised one arm and let it fall beside her. “Not now.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. I felt helpless as I watched her. Broken. No matter how wonderful last night—and earlier—had been, reality hit me in the morning light. The situation we were in couldn’t be ignored. I could tell the accident had changed her. Some part of me prayed it hadn’t changed us too.

Madison pivoted to leave the bedroom when she tripped over.

I rushed to her, and my arms circled her waist before she could crash face first. I lowered myself to sit on the floor, bringing her with me.

With her on my lap, I tightened my grip around her, preventing her from moving, as she fought me off. “Let me go,” she shrieked. “Just let me go.” Her punches hit me square in the chest. “Send me back. Send me so I’m not a deadweight in your life.”

Her voice cracked.

Sobs rocked her body.