Page 35 of Severed Rivalry
I can’t say I blame her. But I can say her end of the conversation felt pretty chilly comparatively. She wasn’t this removed when I saw her Thursday night at the wine bar. And since then, I thought we’d begun repairing what had previously been broken.
Breakfast was eye opening. Lunch was less dramatic.
Neither were filling since water was my drink of choice and a smoothie was my meal. Twice. Maybe in a day or two I’ll venture into eggs if they’re fluffy enough or something else that I can crush enough with my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Missing teeth means the others are shifting toward the gaps. Everything in my face and jaw hurts. It’s like having braces again, but if my orthodontist was an evil villain.
At least the drugs are good. The downside is they knock me out. So my choices are less pain but dozing, or I can be awake, hurting, hungry, and worried.
At least Eleanor is with me. Or with me in spirit. She fell asleep before I did but is no longer here, and the door to my room is cracked. When I’m foolish enough to whistle, I’m quickly reminded why I shouldn’t have.
The good thing is that the clicking of my girl’s nails making her way up the stairs notifies me she’s heading my way. The bad thing is when she sees me, she leaps from the floor straight forme as I turn and collapse, protecting my vulnerable side in the pillows.
“Hello, gorgeous.” My voice is low and scratchy as I rub behind her ears. The chocolate-brown fluffball wriggles and attempts to lick my chin.
“You’ve been rationing your words, yet you choose those with her?”
I nod at my sister and sit with my back to the headboard. She’s right. Everything hurts when I talk so I haven’t been doing it.
“You got my texts?”
I viewed them through shards of glass distorting the characters like a wonky kaleidoscope, but yes, I read them. I nod again as she comes in and sits at the foot of the bed, gingerly as if the movement might jostle me.
“Later, when you’re up for it, we need to talk about what went down.”
I shrug.
She stares at me as if gauging a vista that she’s going to shoot and deciding how she wants to display it for the rest of the world to see. “You came for me. You put me first when you offered to be sacrificed so I wouldn’t feel guilt. But the guilt would’ve been over losing you.”
I lift my chin, but she continues on as if I have nothing to interject.
“I said it already. Be prepared for the fact that I’ll say it again. I’m working on sorting my head out and usually that’s better out than in. But”—she lifts a hand and as if having a voilà moment—“there’s more going on with you. I don’t know how I know, but I do. It’s not pain or relief or anger or disappointment that’s eating at you, is it?”
I shrug again.
“Clarification… It’s not just that.”
I hold her gaze until the look on her face morphs into one I’ve not seen in years. Certainly not one I’ve seen since before her accident. She looks smug and humored.
“You’re worried. And that hasn’t lifted even after deaths and arrests and being safely ensconced here.” She looks up as if thehouse has a secret protective bubble surrounding it. “Cian Murphy, are you keeping a secret?”
I lift my hand from Eleanor and point at my mouth.
“You have a phone. And it was important enough you spoke to Ellie.”
“Eleanor.”
“Dude, I could rile you up so bad right now.”
Remnants of the girl I knew shine through. She’s soher,only with layers of worry and discomfort.
I force a little smile and push through the swelling that makes the left side of my face resist its own movement.
“I know that’s a smile, even if it comes off like a grimace. I like the spirit of the gesture, but the execution is terrifying.”
I swipe my phone from the nightstand and gingerly tap out a note, turning it to face her. “Not helping.”
“I’m telling you like it is. Would you rather I sugar coat?”
I start again, but slice my thumb on the glass. “Ouch.” I give up. Can’t speak. Can’t text. Maybe sleep is the answer.
