Page 81 of Point Proven
“I’m unsure how well I’ll be able to get inside it, but yeah, sure.”
“Oh, right, knee. Then, wait right here, and I’ll be done in a second.”
“Done? With what?”
“Cleaning and putting my yummy food away.”
I rolled my eyes, crutches clicking against the tile as I headed toward the living room—the space we had built a blanket fort in and been claiming as our resting place since we got home. “How about I sit while you do that? Standing in the foyer doesn’t sound super… appealing. My armpits hurt.”
“Sure! I put your book in our fort if you want it while I finish up!”
Offering him a soft smile, I nodded before slipping onto the couch and slowly resting my crutches on the ground in front of me. One thing was certain: I wouldn’t have made it the past couple of days without Simon. But what about the months to come? I would be needy until my knee healed, and even after, I would be stuck in physical therapy for… who knew how long.
I didn’t want to be a burden. I never had. And it felt wrong to ask him to cater to me when he already struggled so much with his disability. Where I still had a leg, he didn’t, and that was the biggest thing that was preventing me from working through my trauma.
Perhaps Stefan would haunt me for the rest of my life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
SIMON
Staring at the geraniums and lavender tucked neatly into the flower beds, I shifted my attention to the grand oak door.
Driving here, I was a bundle of nerves. Not only would I see Oren, but the thought of seeing Thorne even remotely upset tugged at my chest. Well, if he was even here. It hadn’t occurred to me until we pulled into the empty driveway that he might be staying with Matt.
Expressing that concern to Liam, he insisted we still check, and I swallowed that anxiety as I helped him up the few stairs. With no way to escape, and with his cheeky grin encouraging me, I rapped my knuckles against the thick wood.
A mere second passed before the unmistakable barking of Prince bled through the silence, the fluffball corgi notorious for his outlandish personality. While he continued announcing someone was here, it was the voice that shouted over him that stalled my breath.
“Prince, shut up!” The lock clicked, and the door swung open as the blonde had his head twisted to the living room. “Shush! Mercy is sleeping, and you’re being rude?—”
His cerulean gaze met mine, and his words trailed to a halt. Glancing over at Liam, the corners of his mouth tugged downward slightly before transforming to that infectious smile.
“What… What are you both doing here?”
As Prince bounded through the threshold, weaving himself between my legs, I rubbed the back of my neck. “Well… Liam had some questions about… about everything, and he wanted to talk to Thorne, but it doesn’t look like he’s here, so?—”
Oren took a step back, and his stare floated away from mine. When he spoke, his tone almost seemed… upset? “Oh. He’s here if you want to talk to him. He’s still asleep, though, but knowing him, he should wake up soon.”
He’s here?
“Great,” Liam replied for me as he dipped his chin, perched on his crutches. “Can we come in?”
“Sure.”
I followed Liam. Oren closed the door after me, shutting the draft outside as he stepped into the living room. “Make yourselves comfortable. Would you like anything to drink? I have some cake leftover, too, if you want a slice.”
“Soda?” Liam asked, slowly easing himself onto the couch.
“Yeah. Coke or Sprite. Whatcha poison?”
The corners of Liam’s mouth curled upward. “Coke, please.”
“Noted. Simon?”
Slipping beside Liam, my palm glided over his thigh, squeezing once. “I-I’m good.”
His gaze narrowed for a second, but he dipped his chin. “Okay. Be back.”
