Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I opened my mouth, and she waved off my protests. “I was there a few days ago, Katy. Your fridge is full of food he can help himself to if he’s hungry. You’ve rearranged the house so he can go anywhere. If he’s tired, he can take the elevator upstairs, and he’s perfectly capable of getting himself in and out of his chair to the bed.” She lifted her cup to her lips. “At least, in that sense, his stubbornness is paying off.”
She pushed the plate my way. “Eat.”
I picked up a piece of the toast and nibbled on it.
“Tell me what happened this morning.”
I drew in an unsteady breath. “The old Richard—the one I despised—appeared.”
She frowned. “I know he isn’t himself right now—”
I shook my head, interrupting her. “No, it’s more.”
She covered my hand. “Tell me.”
“There’s a Richard you don’t know—a man you never met.”
“I have heard stories,” she admitted.
I glanced down, tracing the edge of the table with my finger. I felt guilty saying anything against Richard. My love and loyalty ran deep.
“Katy,” Graham said, entering the room and sitting down beside me. “Talk to us. Say the words and get it out. Saying it doesn’t mean you love him any less. It simply means you need someone to talk to.”
I broke. It all came out. Richard’s anger this morning. His lack of effort and his despondent mood. Our lack of intimacy. His cutting remarks and anger. All of it. My voice shook, the tears constant as I spoke. I wiped at my cheeks when I was done, unable to meet their eyes.
“I don’t know what to do,” I confessed. “I don’t know how to help him. I want to be there for him, but I can’t let him take his anger out on the girls.”
Graham and Laura exchanged a glance, then Graham spoke. “He shouldn’t take his anger out on you either. You did the right thing leaving him alone for a while, Katy. He needs to think and figure out his priorities.”
“His priority is to heal.”
“I agree. But he can do that without being a nasty asshole,” Laura inserted.
My eyebrows shot up at her words. Laura never said anything negative about anyone.
She lifted her shoulders. “I’m not blind, Katy. I agree with you—Richard hasn’t been himself since he came home. I could see him regressing.”
Graham nodded. “I did as well. I thought he would improve once he was home, but he seems to have gone in the opposite direction.”
“Alan said this often happens with patients experiencing what Richard is going through. Depression and anger issues occur. I suggested he talk to someone, but he refused.” I sighed, letting all the truth come out. “He has refused to do anything to help his progress. He goes through the motions, but his heart isn’t in it.”
“It’s not,” Graham agreed. “I tried to get him interested in working from home. I thought it would help him—take his mind off dwelling and feeling sorry for himself. Get him involved in life outside that damn chair again. He would have everything he needed, yet all he did was throw up roadblocks.” He shook his head. “The Richard I know would blow up the roadblocks and wheel past them until he could jump over them. Not accept defeat and turn away.” He paused, taking a sip of tea. “When I said that to him, he told me I didn’t understand, and he refused to say anything else. I didn’t push it. Perhaps I should have. Perhaps we all should have been pushing harder.”
“I don’t know how to help him. Everything I suggest is wrong, every idea he strikes down, or, even worse, shows nothing except apathy when I talk to him. Add in the anger I saw this morning and I’m worried the Richard I love is gone. Unreachable.” Tears began to build in my eyes. “I don’t know how to get through to him. He has always made us such a priority, but now it’s as if he doesn’t care anymore.”
Laura covered my hand. “He does care, Katy. He’s so petrified, he’s lost himself.”
“How do I find him?”
She leaned back, sharing a glance with Graham. “I wish I had the answer to that.”
I picked up my tea, the cup shaking in my hand.
I wished I did as well.
RICHARD
I wheeled through the house, the quiet around me unsettling. Katy had cleaned up the kitchen, the spilled milk gone, all evidence of my family being there, gone. It felt empty—much like my heart did at the moment.
The Keurig machine was low enough I could reach it, a mug already in place for me. I knew without looking, when I opened the fridge, the cream would be in reach. Food I liked would be at eye level, easily accessible. She made every effort to ensure I had what I needed. She tried so hard to give me what she thought was necessary.