Page 36 of On the Way to You
Water poured out of different compartments of my prosthetic leg when I took it off, and I dumped it into the bath tub, laying the various parts out flat on the counter. I stared at the scattered pieces as I filled the tub with hot water, all the while cursing under my breath. Now that the adrenaline had faded, I realized getting thrown into the pool with my leg still on wasn’t exactly the best thing to happen to me. Insurance helped me pay for my leg back when the accident happened, but as I grew, I had to pay for my own upgrades — and getting one that was waterproof wasn’t at the top of my list.
It would be fine, I knew that because I’d been caught in the rain more than a time or two on my bike. It just needed to air out and I would have to change my liner and socks. Still, I had to take the foot shell completely apart, which meant I’d have to walk out of the bathroom on one leg.
In front of Emery.
Nerves assaulted me the entire time I bathed, mind racing with how he would react when he saw it. Would he cringe or pretend he didn’t see it? Which would be worse?
I sighed, towel still wrapped around me as I studied the leg on the bathroom counter after my bath. I had a feeling he already knew about it, if not before John’s comments at Earl’s, then definitely after. But was I ready toshowhim?
I guessed it didn’t matter now.
Creaking the door open just a crack, I peered out at Emery, who was sitting on a towel on the floor at the foot of his bed, writing in his journal.
“Hey, can you hand me my bag?”
He looked up at me, eyes catching on my towel before he snapped into action, grabbing my bag off my bed and handing it through to me, making sure to turn so I could open the door wider and slip the bag through.
“Thanks,” I said when I had it, closing the door again. “I’ll be right out.”
“Take your time.”
My hands were shaking again as I dressed, pulling on the one and only pair of gym shorts I’d packed. They were short, the edges of them hugging my thighs. The fabric was tight around my right thigh and loose around the left, and I eyed my imbalance in the full-length mirror, stomach rolling at the thought of Emery seeing me like this. No one had really seen me without my leg on, other than my parents, who didn’t notice, and Lily, who didn’t care.
But I didn’t have a choice, so I threw my bag over one shoulder and tucked the parts of my leg under my other arm, ready to lay it out to dry on the desk in our room. Then, with an unsteady breath and my head held as high as I could manage, I opened the bathroom door again, standing in the frame of it as Emery’s eyes landed on me.
It was impossible to ever get used to the way he looked at me, especially when those two lines formed between his brows. Every time his eyes pinned me, I swore I never wanted to move again.
Pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose, I watched as his gaze flowed down my body, catching for just a moment on the bare leg that still existed before flicking to the one that was absent. I opened my mouth to say something but he was already on his feet, taking my bag from my shoulder and the parts of my leg from my other hand. He dropped my bag near the foot of my bed and laid out all the pieces of my prosthesis on the desk, and I just stood frozen in the door frame, watching him.
“Here,” he said when he finished, moving to my side. He grabbed my left arm and hooked it around his shoulder, bending to my height and helping me to my bed.
“I can do it on my own,” I whispered, but we were already across the room.
“I don’t doubt that.”
Emery made sure I was settled on the bed, my good foot on the floor while my stump hung down, the cut just below the knee. His eyes roamed over both of my legs as he pulled up the desk chair, laying the towel he’d had on it since he was still wet before sitting down and rolling closer to me.
He wasn’t grimacing, or studying it like it was a science project, or looking at me with pity. He just seemed to be taking in the lower half of me for the first time, his eyes tracing my thigh, my shin, my ankle, before finally landing on my scar, on the most vulnerable part of my entire body.
“You already knew, didn’t you?” I asked after a moment.
He found my gaze, nodding slowly. “I suspected, but I figured you would tell me when you were ready.”
“I’m never ready to tell anyone about it,” I said quickly. “But… I didn’t really have a choice tonight.” I eyed my leg drying out on the desk.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think about it when I threw us in the pool.”
“It’s fine. It’ll dry.”
Emery swallowed, eyes searching mine. “John was right, you know. You are beautiful. With or without your prosthetic.”
Everything about the situation made me want to crawl right out of my skin. I didn’t want him to see me like this, or tell me I was beautiful when all I felt was broken. I tucked my wet hair behind my ear, eyes on the carpet between us. “You should go shower.”
“I will,” he said, voice low. “Can you tell me what happened? Is that… would that upset you?”
A shudder rushed through me and I shivered with the force of it. Emery reached out, his hands finding the outer edges of each of my knees, and he rubbed the skin there. I watched his thumb rub the normal, toned muscle of my right leg and the thin, damaged muscle of my left. The warmth from his skin made me shiver again, and when my eyes found his, my stomach flipped at the heat I found there, too.
“It’s hard,” I whispered, and my eyes watered, though I tried to fight against the tears.