Rescued(60)

I took a few steps toward Hunter’s side, but stopped when I saw his expression.

He was okay, but I had never seen someone more frustrated in my life. His eyes were scrunched up and his jaw was set in a combination of anguish and rage. He shook for a moment, but didn’t even yell.

He stared at the ladder and I stared at him for several seconds, neither of us making a move. Then I stepped tentatively toward the ladder.

“Don’t touch it,” Hunter rasped. “I got this.”

“Let me help,” I offered, bending towards the ladder.

“I SAID DON’T TOUCH IT!”

I froze, then straightened up and turned to face him. My heart beat loudly in my ears. A tense silence hung in the air, and I didn’t want to be the one to break it.

Hunter saved me from having to. “Please leave,” he said through his teeth. “I can handle this. Sorry for the noise.”

I took a deep breath, trying to stop myself from screaming. “Hunter, what’s your problem? I’m trying to help.”

“I know,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’ve been trying to help ever since I got back from the hospital.”

“Then why won’t you let me help? I care about you.”

He threw his hands up. “If you care about me, then leave me the hell alone. I can do this stuff for myself.”

I bit my tongue as I watched him wheel over to the ladder and put it upright. It took him a while, but he was so strong he did end up getting it by himself.

After he was done he turned to me. “I’m gonna paint now,” he said. He picked up the can and a screwdriver to pry it open.

I pursed my lips, then decided to tell him what my plan had been. “If you want to do that, then fine, but I came down here to offer to take you to Clint’s. I thought you might want to get out of the house or something.”

Hunter stopped what he was doing and looked at me, clearly thinking about it.

“If we’re going to go, we kind of have to go now,” I added. “I told my aunt I’d help with dinner later.”

He thought some more, then put the paint can down and left the screwdriver on top of that. “Alright, let’s go.”

We stood there in silence for a moment. Finally, I walked out of the room to get my jacket and keys, my lips pressed tightly together as I did my best to avoid another argument. Hunter followed closely. Soon, we were out the door.

Neither of us spoke much the whole ride. Hunter turned the radio on almost as soon as he got himself situated, and we listened to the music rather than continue the discussion we’d started in the house. For my part, I didn’t even know what I could say.

Eventually I caught myself daydreaming about what Marco’s response to my letter might be. I shook my head, angry that I was letting him creep in again, and soon we were in front of Clint’s Gym.

When we got there, I helped Hunter out of the car and told him I’d be back in a couple hours. Then I drove back home, thinking about everything that had happened to us. We’d almost been there. Almost happy. Hunter was going to get an apartment in Eltingville and we had everything figured out. Now we were back to the drawing board.

After parking his car in front of my aunt’s house, I walked inside and was greeted by Rampage. I went to pick him up, but he scurried away to Hunter’s room. Sighing to myself, I followed him in. He had managed to hide by the time I walked into the room. My guess was he had hidden underneath the bed.

As I got down onto my knees to look, something caught my eye. Hunter’s gym bag was at the foot of the bed with his clothes folded neatly inside. On top of the clothes was a little black pouch. His MS treatment. The burden he carried with him everywhere he went.

My breathing quickened. I stood up unsteadily and plopped onto his bed, arranging myself so I was face down in his pillows. They still smelled like him. Memories of all the different times we had spent together washed over me.

Would the memories we made going forward be as good? How many more would there be?

Tears sprang to my eyes. Of course they would as good. I just had to figure out how to help us navigate us past this rough patch. Hunter’s MS was in a bad spot, but that didn’t mean I had to start acting like he was going to die any minute.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got with myself. Hunter was the one with MS. It was him that was stuck in a wheelchair. I had to be the one who was strong and made this relationship work. He was already doing everything he could. He had enough on his plate.

I shook my head in frustration, tears still streaming down my face. Why couldn’t I just focus on him? Even in the car earlier that day, I had drifted off thinking about Marco right after we’d had a fight. I wasn’t even sure the fight was over.