Page 17 of Frozen Flames

“It’s your favorite game, I presume?”

“Hmm, I like cards too and board games. Anything but computer games.” She looks at me apologetically after she says this, as if I would ever think she was the gaming type.

More like the bookish type.

“You can’t do that,” she tells me, regarding my next move.

“Why not?” I question. “Seems legit.”

Her brow lifts. “Except it’s not, and it can’t be done.”

“Alright, alright.” I sigh, thinking of something else.

I’m going to need a nap after this mental exertion.

As time passes, most of my pawns are settled outside the chessboard on her side. Meanwhile, I only took out two of her pieces.

“You’re very good at this.” I scratch my head with my thumb.

“Practice.” She shrugs like it’s nothing, yet I notice that my compliment paints her cheeks a dusty rose. We keep playing in silence until she mutters, “Checkmate,” with a smile on her face. “We can have a rematch soon if you’re eager to lose again.”

She’s just teasing, and I know it. The smile on my face in response contradicts the annoyance I feel hanging out with her.

Because I actually enjoy it.

She’s putting the pieces away, and I’m back in my wheelchair, still eager to head back to my room to process my time with her.

“Harvey.” Her voice stops me in my tracks. I turn to face her, her cheeks a rosy color. “You did great today. And I had fun, I really did.”

I nod, clearing my throat. “Yeah, same here.”

I feel off by the time Gemma comes home.

My stomach is in knots, and I’m restless.

The more training leads to progression, the more my legs feel heavy at times—what I imagine constant vertigo feels like.

Gemma’s in her head tonight too, more so than usual.

“You pick the movie.” I hand her the remote. She’s sitting on one side of the couch, and I’m next to her, seated in my wheelchair.

“Okay,” she says simply.

“Something on your mind?” I ask, hoping to get a glimpse into her thoughts as she’s scrolling through Netflix to pick a horror movie, no doubt.

“No, not really. It’s just…new job, right? There’s a lot to learn.”

Her answer makes me feel like a prick. All this time, I’ve been worried about her being away from me instead of realizing how happy she seems to be since starting this job.

It’s selfish of me.

“Gemma, like any other job, you’ll learn. Soon you’ll know exactly what to do.”

“Yeah.” She clears her throat. “Thanks, Harv. By the way, how was training?”

“Good.” She waits for me to elaborate, but I refrain from doing so because Gemma’s first question often leads to many follow-ups. Questions I have no energy to answer, at least not without getting irritated.

She must sense I’m not in the mood, since she starts the movie.

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