Page 81 of Perfect Guy
“Are you sure? Short-term memory loss is an effect of the TBI.”
“I’m positive,” I grit out.
I could tell her the truth, but seeing the pain on her face is too much to bear. If I tell her, she’ll refuse to leave. She’ll get stuck taking care of me. I don’t want that strain to fall on her.
“Okay,” she whispers. One look at her tells me she doesn’t believe me, but my attitude is pushing her to quietly agree.
A knock at the door sounds again, and I groan.
“I’ll answer it.” Madelyn stands, stretching her body.
I wish I could grab her, place her on my lap, and kiss her. My body is too sore, too tired. My mind is a jumbled mess.
I watch Madelyn walk to the door and hear Joy’s voice. Great. Another babysitter. I shouldn’t think that way. They care about me, want me to be okay. I’m grateful for it, but…I feel helpless, and I’m not used to it.
“Hey, big bro.” Joy smiles, holding a box. “I brought you a cinnamon roll. I know they’re your favorite.”
“Thanks.”
“He just woke up from a nap,” Madelyn informs.
“Oh, good. Rest is good,” Joy nods, walking to the kitchen.
“Do you need anything?” Madelyn stands before me.
I shake my head.
“Okay,” she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Actually, her blue orbs are dull, and it’s my fault she’s suffering.
“I’m going to grab some water.”
I nod and watch her walk to the kitchen. I rub my eyes, telling myself to shake off this mood. It won’t be good for anyone.
Madelyn and Joy return to the living room. Madelyn takes her seat next to me again, and Joy settles on the armchair.
“How are you feeling?” Joy looks at me with careful eyes.
“I’m okay. Day by day, right?”
“Exactly. You’re already stronger than you were a few days ago,” my sister nods. “Before you know it, you’ll be fully healed and running around again.”
I hope she’s right. I’m not used to sitting at home not doing anything, and I know that’s part of my temper. I work and volunteer. I go around town, go on hikes, and to the lake. Sitting on this couch is torture.
“I agree,” Madelyn smiles up at me. “Just wait and see.” I have a feeling she’s reassuring both of us.
“Yeah,” I nod at them.
“Brayden wanted to come by, but he wasn’t sure if you’d be up for so many visitors.” Joy picks at her nails.
“Maybe later or tomorrow,” I tell her.
“Okay, I’ll let him know.” She smiles, a bit more relaxed now.
Madelyn and Joy talk while I try to focus on their conversation. It’s hard to keep up, so I close my eyes and zone them out. It’s going to take a while for me to get used to all these new sensations.
It’s like my body isn’t mine. I feel like those unrealistic movies and shows where someone’s soul or mind or whatever gets placed in another body, like Freaky Friday or something. It’s my body, but my emotions and thoughts aren’t mine. It’s difficult to grasp or explain, and if I tried, they’d probably think I’m crazy. Or worse, look at me with pity.
I don’t want anyone’s pity, even if it comes from a good place.