I opened my eyes and looked at my reflection. I didn't look any different than I did the last time I looked in a mirror. I forced myself to meet my own gaze.
“Time, and a fair chance,” I said the words out loud.
I didn't only owe Tanner that. I owed myself that as well.
Chapter Four
Xavier
I didn't want to be there when she went on her little date, so I locked myself in my bedroom and turned on something loud and distracting.
I hadn't heard their whole conversation, but I'd gotten enough of the gist to be able to read the writing on the wall. He'd come to get her back. Before he left, he made arrangements to take her out to dinner, and he kissed her.
Okay, so the kiss had only been on the cheek, but for all I knew, he wasn't into PDA. Or maybe he just didn't feel the need to grab her and kiss her full on the mouth, claim her thoroughly and often.
If she was mine, that's what I would've done every single chance I had.
But she wasn't mine.
I kept reminding myself of that.
Again, and again, and again.
I didn't hear her go down the stairs or go out the door. But I'd known when he was supposed to pick her up, so I knew that by seven-thirty, it'd be safe to leave my room. I didn't go downstairs though. Instead, I went to the therapy room to try to work off some of what I was feeling in a constructive way.
Instead of finding alcohol and drinking myself into a stupor.
That was Plan B.
I taped up my hands, making sure I used plenty of gauze on my left, and then headed for the punching bag. I'd been using it more and more in my free time, trying to get myself back to the kind of shape I was in before the accident. I'd never been a fan of boxing as a sport, but I'd always preferred this sort of exercise to straight weight-training. One of the soldiers I'd known a couple years ago had wanted to be an MMA fighter, so he'd taught me a few things. Even before the accident, I hadn't been even close to as good as he was, but I still enjoyed it.
Hitting things was a good way to work out aggression and tension. At the moment, I had both.
I wanted to just go all out, beat on the punching bag until I could barely move, until every muscle in my body felt like jello. I wanted to completely lose myself in the physical act until I couldn't think anymore.
A part of me didn't want to listen to the common sense side of things, the side that told me it wasn't a good idea to do what I wanted to do, that I could possibly hurt myself. Even with skin grafts, my skin was thinner, easier to break.
On the heels of that thought came another.
If I was hurt again, Nori would have to stay to take care of me.
I felt guilty the instant I thought it. I'd never actually do it, no matter how appealing it'd be to have Nori stick around. It wouldn't be fair to her, or honest of me. Even if I wasn't to tell her how I felt about her, I owed her honesty with everything else. I couldn't do something that I knew would result in injuring myself just to try to make her stick around.
So I took it easy. I stretched the way my physical therapist taught me, then approached the bag, ready to start off slow. My right arm was still much stronger than my left, and I knew that was one thing I needed to work on. I'd worked hard with Kipp to even out my body so I didn't look lopsided. It was much better than it had been, but I could still tell the difference.
It was harder and hurt more to use the left, so that was what I did, of course. Not enough to do damage, but enough that I could feel it. Instead of multiple hits with my right and only a couple with my left, I worked on making the left and right even.
I focused on the rhythm and the burn in my muscles, losing myself in the count. Or, at least, trying to lose myself. Even as I tried to keep track of how many times I hit the bag, I couldn't stop myself from wondering about how the date was going.
Where he'd taken her. What they were talking about.
If he'd convinced her yet that she should move back to Texas so they could rekindle their romance.
Or maybe he hadn't needed to convince her of anything. Maybe she'd made her decision as soon as he said those magic words. I'd asked about her parents wanting her to move back, but I'd never factored Tanner into things.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I drove my fist into the bag even harder.
He said he was going to pick her up, but I hadn't actually heard that they were going to dinner. Since it was seven, it could've been dinner, or something after dinner. An art gallery. Some fancy-ass party where everyone sipped champagne. A club where they could dance.
The image of Tanner and Nori dancing together now paraded across my mind. I'd never seen her dance, but she was graceful enough in her other movements that I could only imagine how she looked moving to music.
“Dammit,” I muttered.
I didn't want to think about them dancing, moving together, bodies pressed close...