“It’s not your problem. And how would you know?”
They started to walk side by side. She felt awful. She’d just assumed that he was fine. “Are you okay to walk back?”
“Yes. I’m just not up for running. Maybe one day, if I keep going to therapy and doing the exercises.”
“You go to physical therapy?” She hadn’t noticed him leaving on a regular basis, but then again, she hadn’t been here that long.
“Not anymore.”
“Why not?” She knew from her father’s accident how important physical therapy could be to making a full recovery. “It’s really important.”
“I’m fine.” His dismissive manner bothered her.
“If you were fine, you would have kept up with me or surpassed me. You are not fine. Your therapy is important. You can’t just dismiss it because you don’t want to do the work.”
He arched an eyebrow. “And since when does my welfare matter to you?”
“It—it doesn’t.” Did it? She glanced away from him, not wanting him to read anything in her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be important to you.”
“I don’t think it’s going to matter. All I do is haunt that place.” He gestured toward the mansion in the distance.
“If you refuse to leave home, I can help you with the exercises.”
“I don’t need help.” His voice rumbled with agitation, letting her know that she’d pushed as far as he was going to let her go.
And so they walked in silence. She wasn’t sure what to say now. He’d made it clear he didn’t want her help and he refused to go anywhere to get help. She couldn’t believe this, but she’d met someone who was as stubborn or perhaps more stubborn than her father. They at least had that in common.
The thought of who could be more stubborn made her smile and the more she thought about it, a giggle started to form. And before she knew it, she was laughing. Maybe it was her nervousness or maybe it was the stress, but it felt good to laugh. Talk about a cathartic moment.
Beneath one of the estate security lights, Deacon stepped in front of her. “What’s so funny?”
The frown on his face just made her laugh some more. It was almost like an out-of-body experience. She couldn’t help herself. And it just felt so darn good.
“Stop it. Right now.” His eyebrows were drawn into a firm line.
“I—I can’t.” She laughed some more.
She could see that the more she laughed the angrier he was getting. She really had to pull herself together. She had no idea what had come over her, but she needed to get a grip.
With a frustrated groan, Deacon turned and started to walk away. That was definitely not a good sign, at all. The elation in her started to ebb.
“Wait.” She rushed to catch up with him, all the while trying to catch her breath.
“I don’t care to be laughed at.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you. Not really.” And then she thought about it a little more. “Well, maybe some. But it really wasn’t that bad.”
“I don’t want to be laughed at.”
Totally sober now, she said, “I just started thinking about you and my father and what you two have in common.”
Deacon came to a stop and she almost ran in to him. “You were comparing me to your father?”
“Yes, in a way.”
“What way?”
“You are both so stubborn. I was trying to figure out which one of you is the worst, but I couldn’t decide.”