She’s the Obstacle, He’s the Hero, I’m Just the Plot They’re Skipping Chapter 06

She’s the Obstacle, He’s the Hero, I’m Just the Plot They’re Skipping Chapter 06

I gripped the cane and pushed my wheelchair as fast as I could.

I clipped the wall twice rounding the corners and got out of there as fast as the chair would go. Ethan could pay for the drywall repair.

I even closed the door behind me. Thoughtful to the bitter end.

I wondered if all this good behavior might earn me the nicer nursing home.

I sniffled. God, this was pathetic.

I was heading for the next room when a sharp pain tore through my right calf.

It felt like someone had grabbed the muscle in both hands and was twisting it, twisting until it felt like the bone might crack.

I caught the doorframe. My nails dug into the wood.

I locked everything down — my jaw, my breath, my voice. Not a sound.

This was the last dignity I had, Olivia. Hold it together.

The muscle in my calf seized, twisting into a knot. I gritted my teeth, and my whole leg locked rigid.

I tried to focus on anything else. Through the pain, I thought I heard voices arguing behind the closed door.

But the pain was so huge it turned everything in my head to static. I couldn’t make out the words.

I didn’t know how long it lasted before the pain finally let go. The tension drained out of the muscle, and my leg went slack.

Ethan and Chloe were still in the room. Maybe I’d imagined the whole thing.

I eased the wheelchair into the next room.

It didn’t take long before they were done. I heard the door open, then Chloe’s heels clicking toward the front of the apartment.

“I’m heading out. Don’t forget what you promised me, Ethan.”

The front door banged shut.

Ethan didn’t come right away. I used the time to steady my breathing.

I heard rustling, then he was in front of me, kneeling. He’d changed his clothes again — I didn’t know why.

The collar of his white shirt was open, and from this angle I could see the line of his collarbones and the lean lines of muscle beneath.

The comments didn’t show up to ruin the moment this time.

But I couldn’t stop seeing the nail marks from that morning.

The pain had burned through whatever I had left for pretending. My lip curled before I could stop it, and I turned my face away.

I saw him go still out of the corner of my eye.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t have it in me to smooth this over.

After a long silence, he stood and left.

The printer whirred to life in the study. A minute later, he came back with a fresh stack of printouts.

“I’ve gone through these. The others — not the first one — are solid options.”

“Do you… really have to have that one?”

He was giving in.

I felt myself unclench. The first one was expensive — I knew that.

Someone who was dying had no right to stand in the way of the living. I understood that.

I’d printed everything without really reading it first, and I opened my eyes, ready to pick one of the cheaper options.

That was when I saw the pink Band-Aid on Ethan’s hand.

Chloe must have put it there.

Something pulled tight behind my ribs snapped.

I dropped my gaze to my feet. When I spoke, my voice was ice.

“Yes. I want that one.”

Go ahead. Yell at me.

Throw the printouts in my face.

Tell me I’m delusional.

Tell me a dying woman didn’t get to burn that kind of money.

Tell me I wasn’t worth as much as one of Chloe’s painted toes.

Then you wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. And neither would I.

…

The silence lasted a lifetime.

Ethan gave one sharp nod.

“Okay.”

…

He stepped out. I could hear him on the phone, making arrangements.

I sat alone for a while, then reached for my phone. My joints were stiffer than they’d been that morning.

It took me a long time to find the right email, longer still to make the call.

“Hi — is this Dr. Evans’ office? It’s Olivia.”

“That clinical trial you called me about — I want in.”