“Here’s the thing, you made your choice, now you have to live with it, just like the rest of us. You can’t change what happened, and if you stick around you’re only gonna hurt her again. Is that what you want?”
Jack opened his mouth to reply but Callum wasn’t finished.
“She was just starting to get her life back together, after everything she’s been through. Don’t rip it all apart again,” he pleaded quietly. “Do the right thing this time – leave.”
Devastated, Jack couldn’t think of a single thing to say in reply. He watched Callum walk down the steps and along the street to his car, get in and drive away. He was still standing frozen in the doorway, watching the space where Callum’s car had been, several minutes later.
CHAPTER 6
“Your future is not determined by others but by your own choices - the choices you make today and tomorrow.”
- Maori Proverb
The morning sun splashed columns of light across Ally’s living room. From her place on the floor, she watched the light play across the wooden beams above her and tried to recall every word of her conversation with Jack the day before.
She spent half the night sitting at her dining room table, trying to imagine just what Jack might have been going through over the past four years. It was clear he was a changed man and, except for that brief glimpse, the fact that she couldn’t see beyond the fa?ade bothered her.
Callum knelt beside her on the floor, gently manipulating her right leg at the knee before pushing it up towards her hips and then back down again. The usual feeling of detachment gnawed at her. He might as well have been holding someone else’s leg in his hands, for all the sensation she felt. She had a friend from rehab who had sensation below his injury point, although he had no movement. She often wondered if that would be better or worse than the numbness. Her friend suffered with spasms, whereas she did not. Perhaps it was some kind of cosmic balancing act? Either way, facts were facts. Wishing things were different didn’t change anything.
Should she tell Callum about her conversation with Jack last night? After his heartfelt apology this morning, she wanted to, but now he seemed so withdrawn. She couldn’t blame him. The funeral yesterday was brutal, on all of them.
He laid her right leg down on the mat and picked up the left, positioning it carefully in both hands before repeating the motion: bend knee, push towards hips, lower leg to mat, repeat. Range-of-motion exercises were necessary to keep her lower body supple and healthy. They were as much a part of her regular routine as massage, swimming, pain meds and everything else. She thought that it would get easier to take over time, just like the other aspects of her new life. Only it hadn’t. It did make it easier that Callum had offered to do them with her, but that didn’t take away the dull ache in the pit of her stomach as she watched him push and pull, rotate and extend. Annoyed with herself, she pushed the self-pitying thoughts away once again. She had fallen down that pit once before. Never again.
“I saw your car outside Tom’s place yesterday.”
She looked down at him sharply. He had laid her leg back on the mat and was sitting on the floor at her feet, staring at her. She felt as if she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“I came over to talk to you last night, after what happened at the funeral. I wanted to apologise again. I drove by Tom’s place on the way home.”
“I’m sorry,” she adjusted her arm beneath the pillow, suddenly uncomfortable. “I couldn’t figure out how to tell you... and I didn’t want you to get mad.”
“I’m not mad, I just don’t get it. One minute you don’t want to see him, the next minute you’re going over there?”
She blinked back tears.
His expression softened as he got to his feet. “Come on, we’re done here. Let’s get you up off the floor.”
She sniffed and sat up, grateful for the distraction. Callum pulled her wheelchair closer and she reached back for it, adjusting its angle to her body and pulling on the brake. Bending her knees and pulling her legs in close to her body, she counted silently, pushing herself upwards on the count of three and aiming her backside towards the seat.
Callum rolled up the yoga mat and set it down on the table behind him.
“I needed to see him,” she said, hoping her voice wouldn’t betray her. “I needed to talk to him about what happened.”
“I get that. It was probably the right thing to do.”
“Was it?” she murmured, fighting back tears. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
He walked over to the armchair and sank into it wearily. She turned her chair to follow him, trying to rein in her fears.
“I thought it would help,” she said, trying her best to put her fears into words. “I thought that if I told him how much it hurt, it would feel better – to have said it, owned it like that. And I thought maybe if he told me why he left, I could deal with it and put it behind me.”
“Do you?” he asked quietly. “Feel better, I mean?”
“No. Not really. I didn’t get any answers, either. Just a boatload more questions.”