Page 29 of The Restoration Program
The thought sent her spiraling again. She squeezed her eyes shut and blocked out the enormity of the living room.
It wasn’t enough to mask Ryan’s low, intense voice floating past the kitchen archway and into the living room. He had taken an awful long time with the dishes—especially considering he only needed to worry about his plate now.
He’d been on the phone for almost thirty minutes, and she knew exactly who he took that tone with.
She drew a deep breath and focused on the screen. She was on a sofa cushion, knelt in front of her laptop. The trackpad demanded the use of both her hands to scroll through the most recent email in her inbox.
As Burman promised, he had sent her a list of potential jobs she could perform. Data entry and proofreading for small companies felt like pity work, but she would have something to do. Whatever wages she earned would bypass her nonexistent bank account and pile into Ryan’s.
That was simply another technicality, according to the Program, which was well on its way to being remedied in the near future.
Ryan’s voice rose and fell again, stealing her attention. Things were getting uglier by the minute, and she couldn’t sit by any longer. So much was being thrust on him; he shouldn’t have to go throughthisalone, too.
Springing to her feet, Nicole walked to the edge of the sofa and carefully lowered herself. It was by no means a terrifying drop, but her breath still caught when her legs hung over empty air. She stumbled a bit when she landed on the carpet, feet tangling in the fibers.
It occurred to her that she had not yet been on the ground since her Restoration. Ryan had scarcely left her side for more than a few minutes at a time, transporting her anywhere and everywhere she needed to go. She hadn’t realized she could feel any smaller than when she sat upon his hands. From the floor, the apartment was an alien landscape. Table and chair legs were monolithic trees, the sofa was a mountain carved from upholstery and wood. The carpeting had become a thick plain of woolen grass under her bare feet.
As she headed for the kitchen archway, staring at the floor helped keep her nerves in check. Better to ignore the towering walls and furniture. She peeked up and caught a glimpse of Ryan walking back and forth, stress-cleaning while he had his phone on speaker. She imagined this was the tenth time he was wiping down the counter.
“Look, I didn’t call to ask for your approval,” Ryan said.
“Then why bother?” his dad’s voice cracked through the phone.
“I thought maybe you’d like to stay updated on what’s going on in our life.” Ryan tossed a paper towel in the trash can and reached for another. “I thought maybe you’d care that my girlfriend almost fucking died and came back to life.”
Nicole hugged the wall to get out of sight before he turned around. She slipped under the shadow of a barstool, morbidly curious to hear what Ryan’s father had to say about the situation. If Ryan spotted her, the conversation would end.
“Don’t her people believe in reincarnation?” Ryan’s dad said. “For all you know, you’ve offended her culture by doing this.”
“Shit, Dad!” Ryan’s footsteps trailed past her, then back again, shaking the floor. “You’re choosingnowto say shit like that? Besides, you couldn’t give less of a fuck about what she wants. You never liked her from the beginning, and we all know why. Instead of being happy she survived—what, you’d rather have her die?”
A coarse laugh came through the receiver. “Your mother loves putting words in my mouth, too.”
“I don’t hear you denying it.”
“Look, bottom line, this whole Restoring thing is just unnatural. Unholy. Accidents are a terrible thing, of course, but they happen. Matter of fact, they happen every day,” his father prattled on, and Nicole watched Ryan vice grip the cleaning rag into a tight ball, knuckles white. “I can’t believe you would sign off for those quacks to play God like that.”
“It was the right choice! I love her. And she deserves to live—regardless of what that looks like.”
“How do you really know thatthingis her?”
“I don’t care what speculations you’ve heard on that bullshit news channel you worship, but she’s still her! If you had bothered to get to know her at all, you’d understand that!” Ryan chucked the rag at the sink.
A heavy growl came through the phone that rivaled Ryan’s anger. “That girl’s been nothing but bad news for you, dragging you down. I understand why you stuck around after her father died—you felt like you couldn’t leave her. But now? Why are you putting yourself through this?”
Nicole couldn’t bear to watch Ryan’s expression cloud. She chewed hard on her lip and gripped the leg of the barstool. Ten breaths. Dr. Burman had sworn that ten deep breaths could soothe any panic, but it was hard to count when she couldn’t block out Ryan’spause.What if he was actually considering what his father was suggesting? He could have anyone he wanted—why stay?
If anything were remotely normal, she’d march into the kitchen and snatch the phone from him. She’d tell his father exactly what she thought and promptly hang up. She’d pull Ryan against her and remind him that they didn’t need anyone else—they would make their own family. Live by their own rules.
And it was precisely that mindset that widened the rift between Ryan and his parents. Their son was happily thriving outside of the close-minded box they had raised them in. Nicole only solidified his “corruption.” What should have been a fun experimental relationship was now weathering the test of a full body transfer.
Ryan finally heaved a disgusted sigh. “Just because you would’ve happily let Mom die if you were in my position…”
Nicole was so fixated on his response, she wasn’t prepared when he stomped across the room and grabbed the barstool to adjust it. The leg was painfully jerked from her arms. She shrieked and fell to a seat, covering her head with her arms to protect herself.
“Nicki?” Ryan gasped.
She peeked up, only to flinch again when the barstool flew higher over her head and out of the way as Ryan set it aside to make room to reach her. He scrambled to grab his phone and hang up on his dad, who was deep in mid-rant. The ground rattled with Ryan’s approaching steps. He fell to a crouch. Fingertips brushed her arm gingerly, and she lowered her trembling hands.
