Rescued (Forever 5) - Page 42/53

Hunter pushed himself upright in the bed, a big sleepy grin stretching across his face. “Sweet, let’s get going. Snorrie, you ready?”

I nodded and but I couldn’t bring myself to smile back. We had been looking forward to Hunter being discharged today, but right now, I needed some time to compose myself.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice cracked and I cleared my throat. “Just give me a second, I’m going to clean up a bit.”

The nurse handed the clipboard to Hunter, while I walked out of the room. She didn’t take her eyes off of me. Did I really look that bad?

In the hallway, I walked by the wheelchair that was meant for Hunter. The leather padding was old and cracked, but the chrome frame and plastic handles still gleamed like new. My eyes stung at the thought of Hunter in that chair. He was cheerful now, but would he still feel the same when he left the hospital?

I clenched my hands until I felt nail marks in my palms. Then I headed down the hall to the restrooms.

When I got to the ladies room and looked in the mirror, I could hardly recognize myself. My face was sunken and gray, my eyes bloodshot. How were we going to make this work? How could I possibly be strong enough for him when I was like this?

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I bit them back.

You need to be strong for Hunter. You’re his anchor now.

The faucet squeaked when I turned it on and I splashed cold water on my face. He needed me. I couldn’t let him down. And that was that.

A little less than an hour later, Hunter had finished all the paperwork and we went out the building’s revolving door. He was still in a good mood and insisted on wheeling himself rather than letting me push him. I kept a fake smile on my face and let him do it, he seemed to have it under control.

We stopped at the car, and I opened the passenger side door for him.

“Thanks,” he said. He flashed me a warm smile after hoisting himself into the front seat.

I folded up his wheelchair to put it in the back. “No problemo,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. Even though I had to fake my cheerful tone, it did make me feel a little less depressed.

Once we were strapped in, we headed onto the freeway. We had the window down and the weather was starting to get a lot warmer. The breeze was making me feel better and I guess Hunter’s positive mood was rubbing off on me too. Maybe it also helped that my nightmare about Marco was fading away.

“You know, I was thinking,” Hunter said, turning to me.

“Uh-oh,” I managed to tease in a playful tone.

He laughed before continuing, “I think it’s time for me to get a job.”

“A job? Now?”

“I dunno, I guess it would be nice to have something to do outside the house. The dining room just needs a layer of paint and then it’s done.”

“Okay, what did you have in mind?”

“Maybe I could still go work for Clint, you know, at the gym?”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, not like I’m gonna do anything crazy like spar or anything. I can do some coaching on the sidelines or whatever, maybe even just man the reception desk.

I looked over at his face, his eyes were round and excited. “Yeah, maybe that would be good for you.”

Even though I wasn’t sure if what he wanted was possible, it was nice to see that he was getting excited about something. It gave me some hope that things would turn out okay.

By the time we got back to the house, Hunter still seemed pretty cheerful. We stopped the car and I went to the back to take out the wheelchair. After I unfolded it, I put it next to the passenger side of the car and opened the door.

Hunter tried to lift himself into it by grabbing onto the arms but it would start rolling away whenever he put his weight on it.

“Here, I can help you with that,” I said, stepping closer to hold it still for him.

“No, I got it,” he said. He waved me away. Something in his tone made me stop. I wanted to help him but I knew that he didn’t want me to treat him like he couldn’t do anything himself.

After a few more tries, he was finally able to get himself onto the chair, but I could see the sharp line in his jaw. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

It was annoying that he refused to let me help, but I didn’t say anything.

Before we even got to the front door, the boys zoomed outside. They must’ve been watching from the window. They cheered about Hunter getting back from the hospital and he humored them for a bit. At least my cousins didn’t treat him any differently even though he was in a wheelchair.

Uncle Stewart followed them out, his tie still on, a can of soda in his hand. “Welcome back.”

Hunter gave a curt nod. “Thank you, Sir.” His jaw was tight again, and it was clear that he didn’t want to say anything else.

My uncle grimaced awkwardly and shifted on his feet. We stood there for a moment, just watching each other, while Joel and Billy poked at the wheelchair. My aunt was probably too busy cooking to notice that we had come back.

Hunter looked down at his legs, before clearing his throat. “Thanks for letting me stay at your house longer. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem at all, Caroline and I are happy to have you around,” my uncle said.

Then we were back to awkward silence again.

“Should we go inside?” I asked, uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” Hunter said. He rolled himself up to the front of the house, his wheelchair coming to a stop at the steps. He tried to get over the bottom step a few times, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to get over it, much less the next three steps leading up to the door.

He sat there, his face scrunched up. I walked over tentatively. I didn’t want him to get upset like he had earlier when I tried to help him out of the car, but this time, there was no way he was getting into the house if we just left him there.

“Hey, can we help you with that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as normal as possible.

Hunter stared at me intensely before his eyes darted to the steps and then my uncle.

“Um, yeah,” he said, running his hand through his hair, and gritting his teeth.

I walked towards him and Uncle Stewart joined me after setting his soda down. Hunter’s brows were furrowed. My uncle and I tried to find a good spot to grab the chair by, while Hunter stared ahead, not making eye contact with either of us. Finally we grabbed the wheels and lifted Hunter together. He just held onto our shoulders with his arms and grimaced.

Even though Uncle Stewart and I were the ones out of breath, Hunter’s face was beet red. He mumbled a thanks to us before he rolled himself inside. I wanted to talk to him, but he was already gone.