That wasn’t the kind of man I was.
And it wasn’t the kind of man Grace deserved.
“What?” she asked.
“You heard me. You’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me. You need help.”
“What I need is a competent nurse to get me up and around my own fucking house. And you clearly aren’t capable of that.”
“Aren’t capable of it?” she asked.
I rolled over and perched on my knees and grimaced. Just putting pressure on my knee made my hip hurt. But I didn’t want to show that to her. It only gave her grounds to interfere again like she’d tried to the first time. Threatening to send me back to the hospital and shit.
I was done relying on people.
It was time they started relying on me again.
“You can’t do that. Please let me-”
“For the love of all thing Holy, stop touching me!” I roared.
I smacked her hand away so hard the crack shocked me. I heard Grace sniffle and guilt immediately pooled in my chest. I looked up and saw her cradling her hand against her chest and I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Shook my head. Cursed myself.
I’d hurt her.
Fuck. I wasn’t worthy of her at all.
Grace took a couple of steps back from me and I reached up for the edge of the counter. I physically hoisted myself into the air and stood on my own two feet, despite the incredible amount of pain I was in. I drew in deep breaths as sweat poured down my back. My knee was trembling and my arms were sore and everything around me felt like it was fucking crumbling.
This surgery was supposed to fix me.
Not make me worse.
“I’m ready for part-time help,” I said breathlessly. “And I don’t think you’re capable of it.”
Grace sniffled again and it broke my heart.
“You’ve done enough. Go pack your things.”
“Who’s going to take care of you?” she asked.
Her voice sounded to dejected and I resisted the urge to open my arms to her. I looked over at her, swallowing my tears as my eyes gazed upon hers. Those beautiful eyes, filled with so much pain and dejection. I could see how red her hand was and it made me angrier. I didn’t even have a productive outlet for my fucking emotions.
I was a wreck, and she really didn’t need to see that.
“I’ll find someone. There’s plenty of people willing to work part-time,” I said. “Now go pack your things.”
“Hayden, please-”
“I said, now!”
My voice echoed off the corners of the kitchen as Grace scuttled past me. Her breaths were shallow and tears were running down her cheeks. I leaned over until my forehead was sitting against the kitchen counter, my hands threaded behind the back of my neck. I heard her bedroom door slam shut and it shook something inside of me.
Brought something to light that I’d been suppressing for so long.
I cared about Grace. More than I should’ve. I wanted what was best for her, and I wasn’t it. I couldn’t accept her help any longer because every time she put her hands on me I couldn’t control the throbbing of my groin. I couldn’t