Page 84 of Say it Ain’t So

“Ah, come on gorgeous. Just let me touch you.”

“Not until you get⁠—”

“You know I can’t!” She jolted and damn near scrambled to the other side of the bed, my loud voice still echoing between us as she pulled back. I tried again, quieter this time. “You know I can’t.”

She swallowed hard and blinked rapidly like she was fighting off tears. After a long, painful minute, she told me, “I don’t know that. And neither do you. If you try again⁠—”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried enough? I can’t do it, Joss. I can’t fucking stand. I can’t fucking walk. You think I want to land on my goddamn face again?”

I could still feel the ache that fall to the floor had caused me. My leg had screamed, my hands and hip had throbbed, and my broken pride felt like I’d taken a one-two punch right to the face.

One time was enough. I didn’t need to provide an encore.

Joss turned her face away and shrugged her shoulder until it rubbed across her cheek. “No, I don’t think you do.”

“You’re right.” I couldn’t even sit up in my bed without a struggle. So I didn’t try. “And if you’re going to withhold sex because⁠—”

“I’m not withholding sex⁠—”

“It sure as hell feels like it! I haven’t fucked you in over a month!”

She didn’t respond, and I was getting damn tired of her silence. More and more lately, she turned away instead of talking to me.

Joss reached for her tablet where it landed on the mattress between us, but I grabbed it before she had a chance to stand up.

“What the hell is this?” On the screen, a truck slammed into an underpass, its top too tall to make it underneath. She tried to snatch the tablet from my hand, but before she could, the video switched to a new clip. A truck came flying out of nowhere, slamming into a car and causing them both to spin. “Why are you watching this?”

She grabbed for it again and this time she succeeded in taking it away. She turned it off and got off the bed. “It’s nothing. Just something to pass the time.”

“Something to—” Struggle or not, I pushed myself up. “This isn’t something to pass the time, Joss. This is fucking torture.”

With her head down and her eyes averted, she mumbled, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” I shifted on the bed, trying to close the gap between us, only for her to back away from the bed. “Don’t you realize most of your anxiety is around driving and car accidents? And here you are, watching videos showing the exact thing you’re afraid of?”

She shrugged again, and again said nothing.

“Every time I see you, you’re on your goddamn tablet, watching these same damn videos of accident after accident. They’re not helping you, and they’re only making it worse. You need to stop reliving the past.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” She turned her face toward mine, and my head jerked back when I saw the tears streaming down both her cheeks. “Don’t you think I realize how this affects me? I relive that accident every single night, Rylan. Every single night. But watching these videos remind me how much worse it could have been.”

“Right. Watching the videos of serious car accidents helps. So you’re saying I should watch videos of people getting shot so I can feel better about my leg?”

“I didn’t say that, and it’s not the same thing.”

“You’re right. It’s not. Because you’re up and moving and I’m the goddamn asshole still stuck in this bed.”

“Rylan.” She shrugged her shoulder, wiping tears from one cheek. Instead of saying more, she shook her head and turned to the space beside the dresser.

“What are you doing?” I asked when she pulled out her bag and shoved her tablet inside it. My voice pitched high as my throat started to close. “Where are you going?”

She let out a long breath. “I need to go home.”

“You’re leaving me?” I should have known. I should have known this was too good to be true.

“I have to feed my fish. I’ll be back later.”

Irrational fear swallowed me, as if she didn’t leave me daily to go to work. “So that’s it? You’re just walking out? I can’t fucking get to the bathroom by myself, Joss. What the hell am I supposed to do?”