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His head whips towards mine. “What the hell do you mean?”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to kill myself. I’m too much of a pussy for that, unfortunately. I’m just saying… what’s left for me? I mean, honestly.”
“Do you think you’re the only one suffering?” He lashes out at me, anger clear in his voice, “I’ve been by you, every day, since day one. I barely have anytime to breathe or fuck these days with all the shit that’s going on. I haven’t seen my girlfriend in days. Our lives have changed, and it fucking sucks, but I’ll stick by you. Just don’t be a douche bag, because I swear to God, I’ll clock your ass in the face if you keep mouthing off.”
“Fuckin’ noted.” I grumble.
I stew in my own despair and forget everything that Easton’s going through. He looks exhausted and stressed himself, and I don’t give him enough credit.
“Thanks, man.” I say. He says nothing, and I expected nothing less.
The rest of the drive we don’t talk. Instead, I watch the familiar landscape pass me by. It feels like it’s been years, when only it was weeks since I’ve seen these trees, these buildings, and driven on these streets. Will things ever go back to normal, or will I forever be sectioned to the passenger seat and feel like I do now.
I feel like a fake.
A fraud.
When we pull into town, I breathe out a sigh of relief, but that’s replaced with uncertainty. How is this going to work out, really? Am I going to live with Easton? Or did he adjust my house to make it handicap assessable?
“So, where are we going?”
“What?” Easton asks, his tone off, cracking a little on the end.
It instantly puts me on guard.
“You heard me, I said, where are we going? My house? Your house? How the hell are we really going to make this work?”
When Easton pulls up in front of Cara’s house, all my questions are answered. And I’m fucking livid.
“No. Fuck no.”
“Listen for a minute—” Easton puts his hand up and I swear if I could move, I’d try to break his fucking fingers.
“No. I was already hesitant as hell and barely on board with going to live with you. You think my ass is going to go live with Cara? You are out of your fucking mind!” I roar.
I look at Cara’s house, which used to have stairs all the way up to her door, which has now been replaced with a large ramp that’ll work perfectly with the damn wheelchair sitting outside her house. Not just any old wheelchair. No, it’s one of those large ones for a paralyzed fuck like me, tall at the back and reclined slightly.
“Is this a joke? This has all got to be some sick fucking joke.” I laugh, but it’s anything but funny.
I can literally feel my insides boiling. I would be surprised if I didn’t have a fever with how heated I am.
“I had a contractor coming last week to make some adjustments to my place for you. When Cara saw what was happening, she got into this huge fight with Rose about how she and I don’t spend enough time together. She fought me until my ears bled, and I fucking gave in. Her house has been transformed into some sick baby-handicapped house. It’s weird. But she wanted it, and honestly, I want my fucking girlfriend back.”
I look over at him with wide eyes. “Just drop me off at my fucking house then. I never asked you to be my caretaker!” I shout at him.
Easton brings the back of his hand across my face. Hard.
“You fucking slap me?” My nostrils flare and my face heats from where his knuckles slammed into my cheek.
“You’re damn right I slapped you. If I were sitting in your shoes and you were sitting in mine, would you do anything different than what I’m doing now?”
I lick my lips, realization hitting me that no, I wouldn’t. I’d help him out till my eyes bled and then help him out some more. This guy is my brother and I’d do anything for him. Including punch his ass if he were paralyzed.
I shake my head.
“Good. Fuck. Sorry, man. I didn’t want to hit you, but you know.” He shrugs, and I crack a smile in his direction.
The door to Cara’s house opens, and she steps out. Rose steps out behind her with a bundle of blue that looks much bigger than he did the other week.
