The Gender Lie(52)

I reeled back, confused. “Like what? Sick? Like you saw me in The Green?”

He shook his head. “That was different.”

“How? How was it different?”

“Well, for one thing, you could walk right after.”

I gaped at him for a moment. “I fail to understand how that connects.”

Viggo made a frustrated sound in his throat. “Violet, you just… you don’t understand.”

“But I’m here now, so make me understand. Please, Viggo, I would do anything you ask, but you’ve gotta give me a reason.”

“I just did,” he said.

“What… is this an ego thing? Dr. Tierney said that you were feeling sensitive to this but…”

“No, Violet, it is not an ego thing, okay?! So just back off and give me some space!”

I recoiled at the defensiveness in his voice.

I had never heard Viggo speak like that to anyone, let alone me. He had always been cool and collected, letting his logic win out over his emotions. But the Viggo in front of me wasn’t doing any of that.

It felt like I was looking at a stranger.

And it hurt. It hurt badly.

I breathed in, my eyes growing hot. And just like that, I was mad again.

“All right,” I said softly, my voice thick with emotion. “You want space? I’ll give you space. You can take the whole damn base.”

With that, I turned and stalked out.





23





Viggo





One week later




“Next leg, Mr. Croft,” ordered Dr. Tierney.

I slowly exhaled, lowering my left leg down and obediently raising my right, straining to keep it off the bed. Dr. Tierney had told me that if I could hold my legs up for forty-five seconds, she would let me try to walk today, and I was sick to death of lying down.

I had been progressing in leaps and bounds this past week, and was beginning to feel more optimistic about my recovery time, but it was still frustrating. Especially since it had been a week, and Violet still hadn’t come by to see me.

Not that I could blame her—I had been an unmitigated jerk to her. It wasn’t her fault that I was having a hard time coping with the transition after surgery. It had just taken me a little bit to process what I was feeling, and a lot of reminding myself that I could get better—that I would get better.

Now I was more than determined: If she wouldn’t come to me, I was going to go to her. Under the power of my own two feet.

And then I was going to make it up to her, even if I had to apologize three hundred times a day for a year.

The entire process had been miserable without her. I wished I had realized it sooner, but having her around would have made it more worthwhile. Because while I knew I felt good at my own successes, nothing would’ve beat seeing the pride in her eyes. Her happiness at my progression might even have spurred me on faster.

My right leg started shaking but I held it steady, waiting for the doctor to give me the go-ahead to lower it.

“And now,” she announced, clicking her pen.

I lowered my leg to the bed quickly and shook both legs back and forth, trying to ease the burn in them. I sat up on my forearms and looked at her. “So?”

“We’ll give your legs a bit of rest, and then get you started on the rails,” she announced.

I grinned in genuine pleasure. “Thanks, Doc,” I said.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet. I get to be there when you go walking back to Violet. I am going to enjoy that particular evisceration. I might even patch you up afterward.”

She said this with a wink, but I sighed, resting back on my hands. “I know, I know. I was an arrogant, self-centered… Patrian.”

“Yes, yes you were,” she agreed amiably as she sashayed back to her desk.

She had been pretty vocal about reminding me of all my shortcomings, but in spite of that, I had come to like Dr. Tierney. With Violet so angry at me, I had come to rely on the doctor for information and conversation. No one else came to visit me—I had yet to even meet the mysterious Desmond who apparently led these people. I had gathered that she was supposed to be brilliant but beyond that, I knew more about the doctor, Owen, Quinn, and some girl named Amber I had yet to meet, than I knew about Desmond. She was an enigma, and I was looking forward to meeting her and getting to the heart of the matter.

After I patched things up with Violet, of course.

There was a sharp knock at the door, and Dr. Tierney went to open it. I saw Owen and an older woman with grey hair in the hallway through the window—anyone else who might be there was being blocked by the doctor’s body.

The doctor spoke in a soft tone, and then stepped aside to let a young man I hadn’t seen before enter. I froze when I realized he had gray eyes, just like Violet’s.