Chương 7
“I’m not being paid today. I need a hobby.”
He laughed.
A crew member walked past carrying folded deck towels and looked twice at them.
Maya noticed.
“So what happens now?”
“With Vanessa?”
“With the internet.”
“You saw it.”
“Everyone saw it.”
Adrian rubbed the edge of his thumb against the blanket.
“My team wants facts out.”
“Your medical facts.”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“I don’t know.”
Maya watched a dockhand coil rope.
“When my brother started walking again, he posted a video because everyone kept asking.”
Adrian looked at her.
“He regretted it.”
“Why?”
“Because then every time he used the chair, people asked what happened.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
Maya glanced at him.
“That’s why I texted you.”
“I listened.”
“Good.”
“My communications director did not enjoy you.”
“She doesn’t know me.”
“She objected to the principle.”
“That’s safer.”
He smiled again.
“You stole that from Erin.”
“Who?”
“My physical therapist.”
“Then your physical therapist is wise.”
“She will be unbearable when I tell her.”
A small silence settled between them.
Maya looked at the harbor.
“Do you love her?”
The question surprised him.
He could have said no.
It would have simplified everything.
Instead he said, “I loved who we were before the accident.”
Maya nodded.
“That isn’t the same answer.”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Adrian looked down.
“She became very good at planning the life we would have after I recovered.”
“And the life you had while you were recovering?”
“She tolerated it.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because then she might confirm it.”
Maya turned toward him fully.
There was no pity in her face.
He was grateful for that.
“You were scared.”
He almost denied it.
Then he didn’t.
“Yes.”
The gangway shifted as the yacht settled against its fenders.
Maya finished her coffee.
“Welcome to being human.”
He looked at her.
“You say that like it’s disappointing.”
“Frequently.”
Vanessa called at 1:18 that afternoon.
Adrian almost ignored it.
The Meridian had docked, and his car waited at the marina. His team had already issued the short statement.
Mr. Cole continues to recover from significant injuries sustained last year. His mobility varies, and he continues to use a wheelchair as medically appropriate. He will not be releasing private medical information or commenting further on personal speculation.
It was accurate.
It was boring.
Melissa hated it.
Adrian loved that it was boring.
Vanessa called again.
Then a third time.
He answered.
“Hi.”
Her breathing came through the phone before her voice.
“Can we talk?”
“We are.”
“You know what I mean.”
He looked through the car window at Newport slipping past.
“Where are you?”
“Hotel Viking.”
“With Grant?”
A pause.
“No.”
He hated that he had asked.
Vanessa noticed.
“Grant went home.”
“All right.”
“Would you come here?”
“No.”
Another silence.
“Adrian.”
“I’m tired.”
“So am I.”
“That doesn’t obligate either of us.”
She inhaled slowly.
“I shouldn’t have pushed the chair.”
“No.”
“I know that.”
“Good.”
“I was angry.”
“I noticed.”
“Could you not do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make everything I say sound stupid.”
He looked out the window.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“No. I’m letting it sit there.”
She went quiet.
The driver glanced at Adrian in the mirror, then quickly away.
Vanessa said, “You humiliated me.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“I did not push you across a room.”
“You stood up.”
“Vanessa.”
“In front of everyone.”
“My legs were not an accusation.”
“You knew what it would look like.”
“I knew what you had just said.”
“You let me believe you might never walk.”
“I might never walk normally.”
“But you can.”
“For short distances.”
“You never told me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
He watched storefronts pass.
“You know why.”
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, Adrian. I know what you want the reason to be.”
He stiffened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you decided months ago that I was failing you.”
He said nothing.
Vanessa continued.
“You watched everything I did. Every dinner I skipped. Every trip I took. Every time I complained about the chair or the stairs or the fact that our entire life changed. You collected it.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?”
“You told me last night you wouldn’t marry a man you had to push through life.”
“Yes.”
“After pushing my chair.”
“I know.”
“Then what part am I misreading?”
Her voice changed.
It lost some of the sharpness.
“My father was sick for nine years.”
Adrian opened his eyes.
He knew that.
Pancreatic disease, then kidney failure. Vanessa had been twenty-two when he died.
“You know what it was like.”
“I know pieces.”
“No, you know the version I told at dinner.”
He waited.
“My mother disappeared into taking care of him. She stopped working. Stopped seeing friends. Stopped doing anything that didn’t involve medication or insurance or appointments. And he hated her for it anyway.”
“Vanessa—”
“I was twenty-one and changing dialysis bags because home health canceled. I was twenty-two when he threw a glass at the wall because Mom went to lunch with her sister.”
Adrian stared out the window.
She had never told him that.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you could walk?”
He closed his mouth.
Vanessa laughed softly, bitterly.
“There we are.”
Adrian leaned his head against the seat.
“Being afraid of becoming a caregiver doesn’t excuse what you did.”
“I know.”
“Does it?”
“I said I know.”
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Adrian’s anger shifted.
It did not disappear.
That surprised him.
Part of him had believed that understanding her would make the injury simpler.
Instead it made everything more complicated.
She had been cruel.
She had also been afraid.
He had been hurt.
He had also tested her.
Neither fact erased the other.
Vanessa said, “I deleted the post.”
“After people copied it.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“You knew what you were implying.”
“I was furious.”
“You knew.”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
May you like
“For what?”
“For not lying about that.”
