Page 23 of Cruel Love

“I like Aspen a lot,” she said softly. “And from how you’ve acted around her, it’s obvious that you do too. Go easy on her when you two talk.” She stood and kissed my forehead. “I have to go to work. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Promise.” I wasn’t fine at all, but I didn’t want Mom to worry too much, and it seemed like all I did was make her anxious, in one way or another.

I stayed put until I heard her car pull out of the garage. After another ten minutes, I tried to stand, but my legs had had enough. I crashed to the ground, smacking my elbow hard on the wood floor. Breathing through the pain, I lay there alone, furious and helpless.

I knew my legs were done for the night. It astounded me how much brain trauma affected everyday things like walking. But it seemed that brain trauma was my cross to bear, and I was starting to care more about my missing memories than whether or not my legs worked properly—it killed me to think it, but football be damned.

Putting my phone in my pocket had been the only thing I’d done right all day. Practice was over, but Cole and Damon were lifting. There was a small possibility that Shane wasn’t. He’d said Grandad was riding his ass and making him do errands for the company. I gave it a shot and called him anyway. After several rings, it went to voicemail. A knock sounded at the door, so I hung up instead of leaving a message.

I didn’t want anyone to see me like that—on the floor and fucking helpless.

The knock sounded again. I didn’t have a choice if I wanted help, which I needed if I was planning not to spend the night on the floor. “Who is it?”

“Aspen.” Her voice was muffled.

I shouted without thinking about it, “Come in.” I stayed where I was, not that I had any choice. “I’m in the kitchen.”

Her footsteps neared, but I was facing the other way. I couldn’t believe I was in that fucking embarrassing situation.

“Oh God. Phoenix!” She dropped to her knees and cradled my face. Fear leached the color from her hers. “Are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance? Your mom? What happened?”

“What does it look like happened?” I couldn’t stop the cruelty in my tone. I was humiliated. “I fell. My legs gave out. It happens.”

“Are you hurt?” She jerked her hands away from me, her voice whisper soft. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Help me to the couch.” I shouldn’t have asked her to do it. I hauled myself up so I was sitting. It was hard to do, and my arms shook. I’d pushed myself way too hard—lesson learned. I couldn’t believe I was going to say what came next, but was no way around it because she was too small—and pregnant—to take my weight. “There’s a cane in the hall closet.”

Aspen raced out of the kitchen and came back with the stupid cane. I did everything not to use the damn thing, but they insisted when I refused the stupid walker they wanted me to bring home with me. For fuck’s sake, am I nineteen, fourteen, or eighty?

But it had given me a new appreciation for people who had to use mobility aids. It was humbling for me, to say the least. “Sit on the chair.”

“What? Why?”

I glared at her. “I need it to be stable enough that I can use that and the cane to stand. And hold on to the island in case the chair tips,” I snapped, but it was out of concern. She weighed nothing, and I didn’t want to hurt her… or the baby.

It took a lot of effort to get my legs under me, and Aspen looked like she was about to burst into tears. It only made me angrier. Once I was standing, balancing my weight between the cane and chair, she slipped off it and pressed herself against my side and under my arm. I leaned on the cane as much as I could, not wanting her to have to take my weight, and we hobbled to the couch in the living room.

I lay there, seething. I was mostly mad at myself, but she was there, and she’d lied to me. “You can leave now.”

“What? No way. I’m not leaving you.”

“Why are you here?”

Her mouth fell open before she got control. Color rushed to her cheeks. Good. I wanted to have it out with her.

“Your brother was at my door when I got back from classes, accusing me of playing games with you and being a giant ass—again. I’m not going anywhere until we get a few things straightened out.” She crossed her arms and stood over me, just out of reach.

I ignored the part about Shane. We could get to that later. “Are you pregnant? And is the baby mine?”

“I’m not supposed to say anything to you because of your brain trauma and memory loss, per my private conversation with your doctor. You need to heal and get better. I understand that, but I’m also tired of lying and doing this all by myself. So screw your stupid jerk-off brother and the doctor’s orders. They can kiss my ass.” She was turning red. “Yes,” she shouted. “I’m pregnant.”

“Is it because of this?” I made a sweeping motion around the house. “Did you target me because of what you thought I have?” Jillian had said Aspen had trapped me. Deep down, I knew it was bullshit, but I was too goddammed humiliated to stop myself.

“You’re an asshole.” She whirled around then raced out the front door, making sure to slam it behind her with extra force.

Fuck my life. What else can go wrong?

CHAPTER TWELVE

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