“Yes, I’ll be fine,” I said quickly, pushing the door open with my chair.
God, the relief when I was finally able to let go. I decided the pleasure of peeing in a toilet that flushed was seriously underrated. People should write poems about it.
Ash was still waiting for me when I came out. I’d expected him to be sitting with a coffee in his hand by now, but instead he pushed me to a table in the corner, then slid into the seat catty-corner to me.
He toyed with the greasy menu and shot an embarrassed look in my direction, although he didn’t meet my eyes.
“Order whatever you want,” I said quickly, as if it was nothing.
Ash closed the menu and crossed his arms, staring out the window. “I’m not hungry. Thank you.”
“Listen,” I said, leaning forward in my chair and resting my hand on his elbow so he would look at me. “It’s a long way to Chicago and I’m counting on you. I can’t drive when I’m like this. I need you, so please eat. Okay?”
He looked up, his eyes roving across my face, then he nodded once.
His agreement might have been reluctant, but when the server brought the plate of bacon, eggs and pancakes that I ordered for him, Ash ate hungrily.
My stomach felt tender—too many drugs on an empty stomach. I ate as much as I could, then pushed my plate away.
Ash’s eyes followed it, but he didn’t say anything.
“Perhaps you can finish it?” I suggested. “It’s a shame to waste it.”
Ash seemed torn, but then gave in to his hunger and pushed the leftover food onto his plate and finished every bite.
I wondered how he stayed so fit if he ate like that all of the time. If I so much as looked at a pancake, I wound up seeing it and its twin on my hips the next day. It wasn’t fair.
Then I thought of what Ash had been through. No, life definitely wasn’t fair.
Ash drove for the next eight hours. The road began to climb and the sky became a crystalline blue, the temperature dropping with every mile we traveled.
We didn’t talk much, just listening to the radio, letting the miles flow past, each minute taking us further away from those vile people. I began to feel safer, maybe feel a little hopeful for Ash who was largely silent. Even though I dozed in a haze of meds and tiredness, I would have killed for the chance to lie on a soft bed.
We finally pulled in at a Super 8 not far from Denver.
Ash was almost sleepwalking and I was, well, whatever the equivalent is when you’re in a wheelchair.
Like two zombies, only recently reanimated, Ash trudged into the motel, pushing me slowly. The good news was that they had a room free; the bad news, there was only one, so we’d have to share.
I was so tired, I was beyond caring, and Ash didn’t look as if he could have walked another step.
He opened the door to our room and we stared at the comfortable king size. There was no couch.
Ash opened his mouth to speak, but I waved away any objection he might throw at me.
“I don’t care. I just want to sleep.”
Ash nodded wearily in agreement and tossed my bag onto one side of the bed and collapsed face down on the other.
Seconds later, his breathing evened out, and his soft lips parted, relaxed in a deep sleep. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes.
I hesitated, then wheeled myself forward, carefully untying his laces and gently easing off first one shoe, then the other. Ash murmured something I couldn’t understand, his long fingers twitching restlessly, then finally lay still.
Relieved that I hadn’t woken him, I made my way to the bathroom. A shower would be wonderful, but too difficult. Instead, I made do with washing my face and brushing my teeth.
As I wheeled myself back to the bedroom, I gazed down at Ash’s sleeping body. He looked younger, despite the dark scruff on his face. Something about his peacefulness seemed young. Maybe sleep erased all the ugly things he’d suffered, if only for a few hours.
Then I noticed goosebumps pebbling his arms. I would never be able to pull the quilt from under his heavy body without waking him, so instead I wheeled myself to the closet, sighing as I saw the spare blanket I wanted, folded out of reach.
Instead, I shrugged out of my jacket and laid it over his shoulders. It was the best I could do.
With some difficulty, I shed my jeans and fished around under my t-shirt to unhook my bra. Everything else stayed on.
Then I eased myself into the bed and tried to relax with a strange man next to me. But Ash’s solid warmth was comforting and I drifted into a pain-free sleep.
Ash
MY PULSE SKYROCKETED, startling me awake. Instantly alert, I looked for the threat, but the space around me was quiet. As my heart rate gradually slowed, I felt my body shaking from cold and the violent images of my latest nightmare.