“Good luck.” Simon turned back to the bar, irritated but not surprised by Garen’s paranoia. He had planned to go home after this short workout, but now that Garen had conspired to check up on him, Simon was determined to see out the day, if only to avoid hearingI told you so.
He knew that mere words would never ease his boyfriend’s worries. The only way Simon could reassure Garen was by getting better—starting right now.
Maybe he could try some standing lunges? They weren’t yet part of Simon’s regimen because his feet wouldn’t reliably bend in a stable way, and lunges were based on a properly balanced, completely arched foot.
But here in the workout room, he could steady himself with the bar as he descended into the lunge, and if his foot twisted out from under him, he could pull himself back up. It would be safe, even if not entirely successful.
He grasped the bar to his right, then placed his left foot out in front. Keeping his weight directly over the halfway point between his feet, he started to sink, bending both knees, keeping the left one over his toes and the right one pointing down.
His right heel came off the mat as a matter of course. Simon grimaced at the stiffness in the arch of his foot, one of the last places in his body still in thrall to the GBS.
He checked his position in the mirror. It wasn’t pretty, but it was nearly a proper lunge.Boss!
Of course, now he had to get himself out of it, which was the other half of the exercise. He secured his grip on the bar and flexed his hamstring to raise his body.
“What are you doing?!”
At the sound of Garen’s voice, Simon lurched up and let go of the bar. His right ankle twisted under him, and he sprawled onto the mat, landing on his arse.
“Oh my God!” Garen ran over. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Why were you doing lunges?” Garen asked, his voice edgy as he grabbed Simon’s arm. “You know they’re not on your regimen yet.”
“I just wanted to try.” He turned his shoulder away so Garen couldn’t get a good grip on him. “I can get up by myself. I do it all the time at home.”
Garen gasped. “You’ve been falling at home?”
“No! I get up after my floor exercises.”
But Garen wasn’t listening. He was already pacing back and forth on the mat. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come today.”
Here we go again.“Garen…”
“Why am I such an eejit? Why do I never learn?”
Simon heard voices out in the warm room. “Please stop yelling.” He hoisted himself up into his wheelchair and disengaged the brakes. “I’m going home.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes. I promised if I got tired, I’d call it a day.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Simon started rolling toward the men’s dressing room. “You’ve got too much to do here.”
Garen followed him, hovering far too closely for Simon’s liking. “I can pop out long enough to see you home.”
“You won’t make it back before the final. The big ceremony with the piping and the whisky and all.”
“Gillian can do it. Hell, Willow can do it.” Garen grabbed one of the handles of Simon’s wheelchair. “I’ll just—”
“What are you doing? You know not to touch my chair without asking.”
Garen jerked his hand away and covered his mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to help.” He reached forward again.
“I don’t need your help,” Simon snapped, humiliation burning his cheeks. “I don’t need you at all.”