AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And my person isn’t okay.
There are only two options here.
Help. Or run.
I’m assuming she’s used to the runners, but the jokes on her, I hate running, I’m more of a rowing sort of guy, which means I just row through my problems rather than run and try to forget them.
So I tell myself to do what I always do.
I row slowly through them, I deal with them, and I’m going to pick her up and put her in my boat. Even if she says it’s okay, that she can swim, I’ll put her in my boat.
Most of us, when drowning, always say we can make it, we refuse help, whether it’s weakness or pride, we try to keep swimming until we start to sink and even then as we see the border of water across the horizon, we decide it’s better to just breathe in the water, then scream out help.
I don’t want her to get to that place.
I’ve been to that place, it isn’t fun, and it isn’t an option. So I listen, and then I walk in.
I stand in front of the white wall after placing flowers on her bed and I give her a stare that I hope puts the fear of God into her, then sa,. “Let’s finish up here, then you’re coming home.”
She opens her mouth.
I shake my head.
“My home. You’re moving in. Hope your DoorDash game is strong either that or cooking because I think I have one cracker left, a half bottle of wine that tastes like shit, and an old pancake mix that might kill you before Lupus. Oh also, if you need a kidney, I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like to go under the knife. Bad joke? Probably, but I’m here for you. So let’s get this done and Zane, I swear if you keep smiling at me right now, I’m going to kill you. Leave. Out. And thanks for the heads up.” Tears stream down Chloe’s cheeks. “All right, what sort of cheese do I need to go buy so you stop crying?”
She cries harder as Zane leaves.
I know what I need to do.
So I do it.
I walk over to her side and I stand.
I don’t sit.
I just grab her hand and hold it.
Because sometimes we don’t want someone to sit and look at us with pity, nah, sometimes what we need is someone to stand by us.
With strength.
Chapter Eighteen
Chloe
“So now I’m living with a guy that nearly died by bungee?” I joke while laying on the nice black leather couch with a soft blue blanket covering my feet and more food and hydration than I could possibly ask next to me on a tray.
He has fruit.
He has vegetables.
He has Gatorade.
He weirdly decided a turkey leg would be the best way to go. Boys.
Oatmeal.
Doritos, because who doesn’t need those to heal?
