That got her attention. She turned to him, frowning.
“We got a head-start on tomorrow’s exercise regime by walking three miles to the bar. I got to catch up with Dave again, which was great because he’s always been a fun guy. We got to make like James Bond and do the hasty exit thing before the Bad Guy caught on – oh, and don’t forget the part where you nearly kissed the sidewalk. I mean, I’m not sure what you call a good time these days, but in my book, that’s a hell of a night out.” He glanced over at her and caught the smile she was trying to hide. “Oh and let’s not forget the fact that I’m still sober enough to drive and the night is still young,” he winked.
“All very valid points. I guess I was just looking at it all wrong.”
“The glass is always half-full, Miss Connor,” he ribbed, turning his attention back to the road, his heart a little lighter.
As he turned into her street, they lapsed into silence once again. He slowed down as he approached her house, pulling into her driveway and setting off the security light. The car was bathed in the eerie glow as he cut the engine. The silence became louder. She stared at her hands, wrapped around the crutches resting between her legs.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked finally.
“Sure.”
“Does driving make you nervous? I mean, since the accident. Was it easy, to just get back behind the wheel again?”
He thought about it for a moment. “It wasn’t easy. It took a while to get my confidence back,” he admitted. “And I’m definitely a more cautious driver now, because of what happened.”
She nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Why did she want to know that?
“How about you?” he asked. It was a risky move. “You drive, don’t you? Does it make you nervous?”
She shrugged, still studying her hands. “This hole in my memory where the accident should be, it kinda comes in handy sometimes. I’m not a nervous driver or passenger or anything like that, but learning how to drive with hand controls took some getting used to.”
She fidgeted with her crutches and he got the feeling she was building up to something.
“I had an accident about a month after I started driving again,” she said finally. “It wasn’t anything serious, just something stupid, really.”
“What do you mean, stupid? What happened?”
“I was still having trouble with my balance, and my seat belt wasn’t pulled tight enough. I took a sharp turn a little too fast, I think, and I fell sideways, ran off the road.”
“Oh shit.”
“I wasn’t hurt or anything,” she smiled shyly. “I just felt like such an idiot.”
He could imagine how daunting it must have been at the time, despite her bravado.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever told about that – the truth, that is.”
“Really?”
“I told Tom and Callum that I just lost my concentration for a minute. There was no way I was going to tell them what really happened, I was too embarrassed. It was a rookie mistake, one of those ‘live and learn’ moments.”
She turned her grandmother’s ring around and around on her finger.
“I have these dreams,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper in the quiet car. “About running – jogging, really. Y’know, like I used to.” She snuck a furtive glance at him before inspecting her house through the windshield in the dark. “In my dreams, I’m always either walking or running. I’ve never dreamt that I’m paralysed, ever – not once. I never see my wheelchair in my dreams, or my braces. Sometimes, when I’m running, there’s this little alarm bell inside my head that tries to tell me something’s wrong, but I just ignore it. It bothers me sometimes. I wonder if that means I’m still in some kind of denial about what happened.”
Jack watched the emotions play over her face. “Maybe you don’t see yourself that way because that’s not who you are, it’s just something that happened to you,” he said gently.
She seemed to digest this information, casting a brief glance at him, complete with tight smile. Then she retreated back into herself, turning her attention to what lay beyond the windshield.
“Jogging’s not the only thing I miss,” she said, almost to herself. “Dancing. Walking on cool grass on a hot day. Flowing dresses. Pretty shoes. Silly things, really. None of the things I thought I’d miss.”
Jack reached for her hand, holding on tight. He tried to conjure up some sage words of comfort, but they refused to come. Eventually, she turned to him and smiled through the tears that had gathered in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to blurt out all this stuff.”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“You should feel honoured. I don’t babble my secrets to just anyone.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured, reaching up to brush a stray tear from her cheek. “I’ll keep your secrets safe.”
A breathless mixture of fear and longing danced within her eyes.
“Do you want to come inside?” she asked tentatively. “Maybe we can order pizza or something?”
He smiled. “I’d really like that.”
CHAPTER 12