AllFreeNovel
Share Us
15
CAMBRIA
It’s been a week since I had my surgery, and I’ve been recovering well. As stubborn as I want to be with Abram, he really has been here every step of the way for me. Even things I never thought I’d let him do, like folding my laundry, seem to come effortlessly to him.
Having only one guardian growing up made me particularly independent from an early age, which created a complex in me about having things done for me. I always looked down on the girls who would let their boyfriends complete grand gestures of affection, doing things like paying for all their food or running all over town to find the ice cream she wanted.
Now that I have that, I kind of understand it.
Abram has been nothing but sweet to me the entire time he’s been here, regardless of my mood. To be honest, I’ve been pretty mean to him since he got here. When I’m in a lot of pain, I can’t seem to control my words, and I’ve shouted some awful things to him while he’s out in the kitchen making my dinner for me.
He could afford to just order something in for me, but he chooses to cook anyway.
I don’t tell him, but it’s been so nice having him here. When he can’t be here, he leaves James or Isaac to look after me. They mostly leave me alone, only coming to bother me when it’s time for me to eat again.
Despite the nice environment and ample help, the head injury has been extremely difficult to overcome. At times, I feel like a shell of myself from who I was before the incident. Even though I didn’t die, I still feel guilty that I had a better outcome than Ariella. I heard she’s off work for a year to recover.
In a way, it feels like I’ll always be completely changed whether I sustained brain damage or not. I haven’t left my apartment in days, and even though Abram’s presence has caused me to feel encroached upon, it’s so much better than sitting in complete isolation for god knows how long.
I roll around on my bed, agonizing over whether or not Abram will actually let me stay here and recover without working. The apartment is just a perk of the job; he has no obligation to let me keep living here.
Whenever I feel doubts about my original plan, I tend to wander into the back rooms of my mind, where all of my fears thrive. I think about all of the jobs I interviewed for before I came here, how easily I could have secured one if I had just played the part right. I know all of the corporate jargon. It wasn’t hard to learn after the third or fourth interview.
I could be one of those people who work in an office and goes to a spin class every Tuesday, the kind of person who takes their dog to a dog hotel when they go on vacation. That life seems so simple compared to what I’m doing now. Those people are never at risk of the mafia blowing up their workplace, at least not that I know of.
But I chose this life for a reason.
For my brother.
And it’s still too painful to admit that it might have been the wrong choice.
It’s a little later in the evening when I hear Abram enter the apartment. He’s been using his master key to get in and out when I’m not able to get out of bed. At first, I felt like he was really overstepping a boundary, but now I’m just happy to have someone here that will keep me safe from Cole.
It’s been a while since I heard from that creep, and Abram has no idea that he exists, but the relief is still there. It’s made recovery a hell of a lot easier, though I hesitate to admit it.
Abram walks into my room, slowly opening the door and letting the dim light from the kitchen trickle in. “Hey, I just wanted to see how you were doing,” he says quietly as he approaches. “You seem to be doing better, but I couldn’t sleep until I saw you.”
Still feeling somewhat defensive about getting hurt in the first place, I turn away from him. “Okay, thank you, Abram,” I say curtly.
He pauses for a moment, waiting for another response. “I just really want you to know that I do care about you, even though I know I’m not supposed to get close to you,” he continues.
I lie flat on my back now, turning my head towards him slightly. “Why do you care about me so much? What about Ariella? What about Mandi?”
At first, he doesn’t respond. “Why are you asking me that?” he asks, trying to gauge my intentions.
“You have tons of girls to worry about all the time. You hired them all yourself. Not to mention, Ariella has been with you forever here. How many times have you gone to visit her?” I ask, finally turning onto my right side to look at him directly. I hate how I look right now with my hair a mess, no makeup, three-day-old sweatpants. Yet I need him to see me for the whole of who I am. If he insists on caring about me, I need to know why.
He has no response, at least not at first. His expression is somewhat guilty, maybe a little bit hurt at the implication.
“I don’t want special treatment just because you like fucking me. I’m an entire person, not just my pussy,” I insist.
He begins to approach my bed, sitting on the edge where he always does. I can tell that he would rather curl up next to me than sit up like that. It’s so impersonal.
“I don’t have a good answer for you other than the fact that I feel connected to you. That’s all I can say. I feel a connection to you, and I don’t connect with people often,” he confesses. He softly takes my hand, rubbing it.
His touch makes my belly feel warm. I haven’t been touched or kissed at all since I got home from the hospital. Even though it would have been gross and ill-advised when I arrived home, I still wanted him to touch me and fuck me the way he likes.
“Please just let me take care of you. Let me have this. You deserve to feel held by someone,” he says quietly, lifting my hand to his face and kissing it.
