“Hunter, you don’t have to do this. I’m sure my aunt and uncle understand—”

He shook his head before I was finished. “I want to do it, Lorrie.”

I bit my lip, but said nothing. If he thought he could do this, I knew it wouldn’t help to argue with him.

“Okay,” I said, trying to make myself sound as cheerful as possible. “Let me get that tray for you.”

I took a couple steps toward the ladder.

“NO!” Hunter boomed. My heart pounded in my chest and my cheeks felt heated. Why was he being so difficult?

He looked at me briefly and shook his head. “I can do this. I need practice with this thing if I’m going to be stuck in a wheelchair for a while.”

I stood on my heels and watched him struggle to get the tray. The lip he was trying to grab the ladder by by was pretty small, and since he was at an angle to begin with he had to get it exactly right if it was going to grip properly.

As he struggled with the gripper, his wheelchair slipped forward. He lunged dramatically to maintain his balance. The gripper caught the top of the ladder, tipping it.

The ladder fell with a loud crash.

I took a few steps toward Hunter’s side, but stopped when I saw his expression.

He was okay, but I had never seen someone more frustrated in my life. His eyes were scrunched up and his jaw was set in a combination of anguish and rage. He shook for a moment, but didn’t even yell.

He stared at the ladder and I stared at him for several seconds, neither of us making a move. Then I stepped tentatively toward the ladder.

“Don’t touch it,” Hunter rasped. “I got this.”

“Let me help,” I offered, bending towards the ladder.

“I SAID DON’T TOUCH IT!”

I froze, then straightened up and turned to face him. My heart beat loudly in my ears. A tense silence hung in the air, and I didn’t want to be the one to break it.

Hunter saved me from having to. “Please leave,” he said through his teeth. “I can handle this. Sorry for the noise.”

I took a deep breath, trying to stop myself from screaming. “Hunter, what’s your problem? I’m trying to help.”

“I know,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’ve been trying to help ever since I got back from the hospital.”

“Then why won’t you let me help? I care about you.”

He threw his hands up. “If you care about me, then leave me the hell alone. I can do this stuff for myself.”

I bit my tongue as I watched him wheel over to the ladder and put it upright. It took him a while, but he was so strong he did end up getting it by himself.

After he was done he turned to me. “I’m gonna paint now,” he said. He picked up the can and a screwdriver to pry it open.

I pursed my lips, then decided to tell him what my plan had been. “If you want to do that, then fine, but I came down here to offer to take you to Clint’s. I thought you might want to get out of the house or something.”

Hunter stopped what he was doing and looked at me, clearly thinking about it.

“If we’re going to go, we kind of have to go now,” I added. “I told my aunt I’d help with dinner later.”

He thought some more, then put the paint can down and left the screwdriver on top of that. “Alright, let’s go.”

We stood there in silence for a moment. Finally, I walked out of the room to get my jacket and keys, my lips pressed tightly together as I did my best to avoid another argument. Hunter followed closely. Soon, we were out the door.

Neither of us spoke much the whole ride. Hunter turned the radio on almost as soon as he got himself situated, and we listened to the music rather than continue the discussion we’d started in the house. For my part, I didn’t even know what I could say.

Eventually I caught myself daydreaming about what Marco’s response to my letter might be. I shook my head, angry that I was letting him creep in again, and soon we were in front of Clint’s Gym.

When we got there, I helped Hunter out of the car and told him I’d be back in a couple hours. Then I drove back home, thinking about everything that had happened to us. We’d almost been there. Almost happy. Hunter was going to get an apartment in Eltingville and we had everything figured out. Now we were back to the drawing board.

After parking his car in front of my aunt’s house, I walked inside and was greeted by Rampage. I went to pick him up, but he scurried away to Hunter’s room. Sighing to myself, I followed him in. He had managed to hide by the time I walked into the room. My guess was he had hidden underneath the bed.

As I got down onto my knees to look, something caught my eye. Hunter’s gym bag was at the foot of the bed with his clothes folded neatly inside. On top of the clothes was a little black pouch. His MS treatment. The burden he carried with him everywhere he went.

My breathing quickened. I stood up unsteadily and plopped onto his bed, arranging myself so I was face down in his pillows. They still smelled like him. Memories of all the different times we had spent together washed over me.

Would the memories we made going forward be as good? How many more would there be?

Tears sprang to my eyes. Of course they would as good. I just had to figure out how to help us navigate us past this rough patch. Hunter’s MS was in a bad spot, but that didn’t mean I had to start acting like he was going to die any minute.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got with myself. Hunter was the one with MS. It was him that was stuck in a wheelchair. I had to be the one who was strong and made this relationship work. He was already doing everything he could. He had enough on his plate.

I shook my head in frustration, tears still streaming down my face. Why couldn’t I just focus on him? Even in the car earlier that day, I had drifted off thinking about Marco right after we’d had a fight. I wasn’t even sure the fight was over.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep myself from crying. Anger crept up inside me anew.

Here I was, sobbing into Hunter’s pillows, leaving them wet and messy. Hunter was trying to deal with being in a wheelchair and I was a sobbing mess.

How could I help him? How was I going to help myself?

I grabbed a pillow and pulled it tight to my face so I could scream into it. Why was I falling to pieces when Hunter needed me most?

Why?

Why?

WHY?

I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling numbly.

This was just another step. I had to figure out how to get past this mess. I had to be stronger for Hunter.

Chapter Twenty-three

FRONT DESK

Hunter

I rolled into Clint’s Gym in a shitty mood. Adjusting to the wheelchair had been more of a pain in the ass than I expected. It had only been a few days but I already hated being in this f**king chair. I could barely do anything for myself, which made me feel more and more like a burden on the people around me.

I was f**king things up again. Lorrie just wanted a healthy relationship, but it was hard to see a way to do that now. We’d almost had it, but now with my MS it was ruined.

Lorrie had worked her ass off for that art competition and she could’ve f**king won. Because of me, she couldn’t go. How many other sacrifices was she going to have to make?

I knew she wanted to stay with me, but every time I thought about it, the more I realized how much she was giving up. My MS was totally unpredictable. It was impossible to make plans for the future when we didn’t know when the next attack would strike. I wracked my brain endlessly for a solution, but nothing had come yet and I wasn’t hopeful anything was coming.