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I wanted to lift her against that desk and fuck her senseless. But I could not do that because I could not even stand alone. Having her here was humiliating, and I wouldn’t say I liked it.
She looked like she was about to dispute my words, but thought better of it and walked out instead. I watched her figure walk past the window a few minutes after she walked out. She looked to be walking towards the gardens.
Unable to stop my curiosity, I moved towards the window and find her talking to the groundskeeper. She was smiling, I could tell even from afar, and it occurred to me it was the first time I’d seen her smile. The groundskeeper was smiling as well. I could tell he was flirting with her, and she was blushing.
He was standing too close to her, and I felt the jealousy stir within me as I watched them; being a sucker for punishment, I could not look away.
I watched him as he stretched his hands to pick away an imaginative flint from her cheek, leaning even closer to her. My hands grip my chair so hard that it breaks into the leather. She moved away just then, and I saw his masked, carefree smile. She was smiling, although hers hinted at the situation’s awkwardness.
He had the hots for her. You could tell from a mile away and I was jealous, but I could hardly blame him.
Vanessa Hughes was the kind of beauty you did not see every day. Dramatic, blue eyes, smooth, alabaster skin, and full dark hair that she never let down. She’d always had it in a ponytail other than that first day.
Turning away from the window, I made my way back to my desk, but my concentration was shot to hell, and I could not work on anything. Then I decided to take a break after lunch, I left the house to take a short walk out into the woods to get some fresh air and gather my thoughts.
The light breeze soothed my nerves as I walked around the pool towards the furthest end of the property, away from the house.
My father bought this house before I was born. Growing up, we vacationed here, and I had many hiding spots in the woods whenever I wanted to get away from their fighting. As I got older, I started coming here alone and my hiding spots became spots where I went to get away from the rest of the world and listen to my thoughts.
The bumps of my wheelchair against the uneven ground did not make for an easy commute, but I maneuvered just fine, thanks to years of walking through these paths.
The sounds of someone sniffing caught my attention, and I stopped and listened. I heard the sound again, and it propelled me to move forward as I followed the sound. I noticed the black leggings first amongst the sea of green grasses and leaves.
The bright-colored knitted sweater was another giveaway of who was in my spot. She stood there, sobbing and I could not do anything but listen. It occurred to me to give her some privacy and let her have her moment in peace. But I could not shake the feeling that she was crying because of me.
And if she was crying, the least I could do was try to cheer her up. I didn’t think she needed my help, though; I had to be the last person she wanted to see, especially in such a vulnerable state.
I was about to back away and head back to the house, but she must have heard my retreat because she turned immediately, startled.
Her lashes were tear-stained, while her eyes were a deep shade of pink.
She was wiping furiously at her face, and all I could do was stand idly there.
“What are you doing here? Have you come to make me more miserable?”
Nobody had ever made me feel as shitty as I did at that moment. She had just confirmed that I was the reason she had been crying, and for the first time, I wanted to say something, but I did not know what to say.
“No.” That was all I could mutter, and she looked at me for just a brief moment before she walked away, back towards the house.
“Wait.” I tried to turn myself to follow her, and in my haste, I missed a large rock on my right side. The wheels got caught on the rock and flipped sideways, turning me over, and I fell face flat on the dirt floor.
A sharp pain shot up my already hurting leg, and I hissed in pain, “Shit!”
Just as fast, her soft hands held me up by the shoulder and helped me to a sitting position.
“Hey, are you okay?” I gave no attention to the worry and urgency in her voice as her eyes roamed my body as if checking for more injuries.
“Just my leg.” I groaned softly in pain.
Her hands wrapped around my hurt leg, and I shut my eyes tightly against the discomfort. She massaged it slowly, making soft, slow circles around my ankle and down to my toes until the pain eased.
“Is this better?” Her soft voice sounded closer, and I opened my eyes to find her staring down at my ankle. She looked so serious doing what she did, and I said nothing so that she would not stop.
Her face was a little splotchy from her crying, but up close, I could see the bright pinkness of her full lips, which she had pursed in concentration.
When I did not reply still, she looked up at me and found me watching her. Her fingers slowed down my leg as we stared at each other.
Her face was only a few inches from mine, and every instinct in my body told me to lean closer and cover her lips with mine.
