Page 33 of Through the Water

Fact.

What little she did say I’d understood just fine, disproving the idea she couldn’t speak.

Also, a fact… mostly.

I suddenly couldn’t seem to recall if she’d actually spoken the words or if I’d just read her lips. If it was the former, then she was putting on an act.

If it was the latter, then… Jesus.

Are you good?

The words landed like a line drive to the face, and my jaw went slack. Rocky mistook my sudden need to leave as frustration over the game and urged me to sleep it off before meeting him in the morning for class.

As I made my way down the hall, accompanied by the lonely squeak of my crutches against the tile, I didn’t see how I’d ever manage to sleep again. No, I’d be up for days, reliving every second of our encounter.

I paused when I reached my door and looked back. Her room was right there, but those six feet between us may as well have been an ocean. Even if I could somehow cut the distance and knock on her door, I was now painfully aware of the fact that she couldn’t tell me to come in. And, as she used a wheelchair, she wasn’t likely to jump up and let me in either.

I wasn’t good.

And if I was honest with myself, I hadn’t been in quite some time. I’d become a clone of my father, too proud to apologize. Hell, most of the time, I couldn’t even admit to being wrong.

I had to fix this.

First thing tomorrow, I’d sacrifice my pride and go over there. I wouldn’t get distracted or start rambling, either. This time, I wouldn’t leave until I’d made things right.

I settled into bed, coming back to the same unanswered question that had been brewing in my head for the better part of the day.

Why was earning her forgiveness so important?

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