Page 64 of Chasing You

Something productive. Adele had told him he was welcome to stay home, that everything he had was Kash’s, but he wasn’t going to be satisfied with that. He knew it deep in his bones. He didn’t care what he did, but he couldn’t sit at home. His brain wasn’t wired that way.

Which was why he was now on his way to discuss the cost of a wheelchair.

His physiotherapist had been more like a mental health therapist by the end of the session. Kash knew it was best for him. He reminded himself of the beach day and the specialist appointments in DC and how much strain he’d put on Adele. He reminded himself he could have gotten through all of that without needing help at all if he’d had something that allowed him the freedom of mobility.

But he was struggling to accept that this was his life now.

“The term is called ambulatory wheelchair user,” Malek told him. He had a soothing voice—a very low, soft rumble that didn’t match his baby face. He had dark-olive skin and tight curls worn in a bun at the base of his neck. He was young—he didn’t look more than his late twenties, but Kash was in no position to question him since he seemed to know what he was doing. And he had a way of speaking that made Kash feel like he was being listened to instead of patronized. “In layman’s terms, it’s…”

“A part-time chair user,” Kash finished from his spot on the floor. They were working on stretches that he could do at home on his own.

“Exactly. It doesn’t mean you’ve given up or that you’ve failed in some way. It just means you’re taking your independence into your own hands.”

Kash stared down at his hands, which were clasping the back of his thigh. He flexed his toes, then pointed them, then flexed.

“Switch legs,” Malek ordered.

Kash did. His legs weren’t tight today, so the task was easier than usual. “It’s going to be expensive, isn’t it?”

Malek sighed. “You have a prescription for one, whichwill help when you ask your insurance to cover it, but they could decide that you can get along with your orthotics and cane just fine and consider it medically unnecessary.”

Kash felt a weight in his chest. “Do I fight?”

“Some people do—and some people win. Some people lose. There’s always crowdfunding?—”

“I’m not going to beg,” Kash snapped, then stopped himself and looked away. “I won’t beg.”

“It’s not begging, but I get it. Trust me when I say the very idea that we’re reduced to this shit here,” Malek said, then trailed off, shaking his head. “My family was lucky. My mom’s parents emigrated to Canada from Iran before she was born, and after she married my dad, she kept her citizenship, so we were dual citizens. My little brother was born with a form of muscular dystrophy, but my dad’s insurance kept denying his treatments, so she was able to take him to Toronto, and he got everything he needed without bankrupting us.”

Kash swallowed heavily. “I’m happy for him. Unfortunately, I don’t have a way in anywhere else like that.”

Malek bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I was trying to say?—”

“No. I get it,” Kash told him. He sat up and reached for his orthotics. He didn’t need them right then, but he wasn’t taking any risks. Not when his dystonia had flared up out of nowhere at the beach. The last thing he wanted was to have to call Adele at work for a rescue.

He wanted to prove he could do this—that he could take care of himself and figure out how to get himself out of sticky situations. If he could do that, he could breathe easy. If he couldn’t…well, he’d figure out how to cross that bridge when he came to it.

Deep down, he knew all roads would lead to Adele. Hewasn’t a fool. He understood perfectly well that he was in love and always would be and that Adele would love him right back. He just needed to know this life would offer him the chance to be his own hero every now and again.

As ridiculous as that sounded.

He left PT and took the bus to the medical supply company. It was a nondescript little office tucked inside a strip mall. It was nestled between an audiologist, where a man who looked like he was definitely over a hundred was sitting on a chair out front, humming to himself, and a place that sold gyros.

He offered the old man a smile, though the old man didn’t even look up at him as he passed. His cane clinked softly on the pavement as he opened the door, and he was met with a smiling woman behind a desk, who was immediately on her feet when he walked in.

“Afternoon. You must be my three o’clock.”

“Busy day?” he asked.

She laughed. “My receptionist is out sick. Some nasty thing going around.”

Kash grimaced. “Yep. Our house just got over it. My so—my roommate’s son brought it home.” That was the second time he’d nearly slipped up. He’d seen the look on Adele’s face when he’d done it at home.

The look that said he wanted to drop to one knee and propose right there. And Kash would have been the worst liar if he said he didn’t go to bed that night and fantasize about that until he fell asleep.

But it felt a bit like emotional torture at the moment, so he shoved the thought away and followed the woman into the office directly next to the front desk. It was a wide space with comfortable chairs and various walking aids leaning against the wall. She had two folded wheelchairs in thecorner and one very bulky electric one that he was pretty sure he’d have to sell a kidney on the black market to afford.

“So. I have your file.” She dropped behind her desk and wiggled her mouse to wake up her monitor.

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