Fuck. Fuck it all.

I’m done. I can’t live like this. I can’t live with myself for breaking her heart.

But what am I supposed to do? She’s my world. Was my world. I don’t intend to trap her in some half-life with me for the rest of her days. She so vibrant, so full of life and love. She deserves to have the world and more, but I can’t give her that anymore. I won’t ask her to compromise her future by being with a cripple like me. I gave her so many chances to leave and she wouldn’t do it, so the only way to make her go was to push her away. My love for her has broken my heart, and probably hers too. But I know hers will mend, in time. She’ll move on. Her life will be uninterrupted by the burden of my disability and she’ll meet someone else who can give here everything that I can’t. That thought pierces my heart and I feel an all-consuming pain tighten its fist around my heart. It’s more excruciating than the pain of being hit by the car that night. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes when I sent her away. Does she really believe I don’t love her? I fight back the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. It’s bad enough that I can’t be a man for my girl without crying like a pussy too.

“Is everything okay, Mr. King?” the nurse asks as she enters and surveys the room. I ignore her, knowing that I can’t trust myself to be pleasant with my words at the moment. I want to yell at her that I’m fucking paralyzed, of course everything isn’t okay. It’s not all sunshine and roses. A smile or some kind words won’t make this situation any better, and it will never be okay. “Let me call for housekeeping to clear up this water and I’ll get you another pitcher.” She speaks quietly without pressing me further and tidies up around me before checking my stats and noting them down on the little clipboard at the bottom of the bed. Housekeeping comes in and clears up quietly, and I just stare blankly out of the window, ignoring them and everything else except for the birds flying carefree outside.

“What’s been going on in here?” my brother asks as he enters, passing the housekeeper in the doorway.

“What do you want?” I bark bitterly. He doesn’t answer immediately, but comes around to sit in the chair next to the bed. He perches on the edge with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. He’s made sure he’s directly in my line of sight, so I look away. I know exactly what he’s going to say, and I don’t want to hear it.

“Spike,” he says quietly. I focus on a black scuff on the wall just below the window. “Spike,” he says again, louder and more commanding this time. It’s his big brother tone of voice and he only uses it when absolutely necessary. “Okay,” he sighs heavily with exasperation. “You might not want to look me in the eye or listen to what I have to say, but I’m going to damn well say it anyway. You’re not dead, Spike. Far from it. If you would just open your eyes and your mind for one second, you could see that you have−”

“Open my eyes?” I snap my head around and glare at him. If he wants me to look him in the eye, I will. “Oh, my eyes are wide fucking open, Denham. Do you know what I see?”

“Look, bro. I can only−” He starts to look at me with pity in his eyes, so I cut him off.

“No, you can’t imagine. Whatever you think I’m feeling, you’re wrong. The helplessness, the loss, the feeling that my life is over and somehow I’m still breathing because someone up there thinks it must be funny to watch me suffer through this shit.” My chest heaves as I throw the words at him. I know it’s unfair. I know he doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my rage. But I don’t deserve this either and I’m really fucking bitter about it. “Didn’t expect that now, did you?” I try to push my shoulder forward to shift my upper body away from him but the back brace inhibits my movements. With every awkward movement I make, bitterness and dejection taps further in to my psyche.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” Denham murmurs quietly. “I can’t turn back time, but I can be here for you now. You just let me know what you need me to do and when you need me to do it, and I’m there, okay? You need a second opinion? We’ll get it. You need intensive therapy? I’ll pay for it. Whatever it takes to get you back on your fucking feet. Hell, I’m willing to give you everything I’ve got and get you a set of bionic fucking legs if that’s what it takes to bring my brother back.”

I huff out a laugh, “I can’t have what I want. I want my life back the way it was and that’s never going to happen. So do me a favor and stop trying to fix everything. Money isn’t the solution to the problem this time. You can’t buy my wellbeing, you can’t turn back time and you can’t do anything that’s going to make me walk again.”

Chapter 1

After six weeks in a hospital bed and what felt like ten million tests, it was concluded that I will never walk unaided again. Not unless I defy all medical science and prove that I am a walking miracle. Let’s face it, no matter how hard I wish or how much money is thrown at me, there are just some things that can’t change. I’ve fought off severe waves of depression and at times I still feel like I would be better off dead. It’s hard to see what I have to live for. I still don’t know what drives me to fight each day, in fact, I don’t even know if I’m fighting or merely existing because it would be more painful for those around me if I wasn’t here at all.

With the encouragement of my family, I’m finally able to leave the hospital to try and gain some independence, to learn how to live again from here. Mom really wanted me to go home and live with her so she could take care of me, but I haven’t lived at home since I was twenty years old, and as cool as my mom is, I couldn’t stand the thought of being looked after by her, fussing around me all the time and making me feel even more fucking useless than I already do. So my brother, Denham, suggested that we have the penthouse opposite his converted for me. If I had my way, I wouldn’t rely on any of them. But I don’t have much of a choice and it seemed the less suffocating option. The surfaces have all been lowered, the bathroom adjusted so I can use it independently and I have an electric wheelchair, designed to my specification. Denham is far enough away for me to be independent, but close enough for me to shout should I need him for anything. It’s not perfect. Nothing about this situation is perfect. But what choice do I have?

The heaviest part of my heart is the huge piece that’s weighed down since I no longer have Lottie by my side. I know it’s because of my own doing, but I didn’t do it out of selfishness or spite. If I was selfish I would have kept her with me, by my side, in my arms, and it would have ruined her life too. No, I did it for her and although she can’t see it now, she’ll be thankful of it one day. She’s such a free spirit and I never want to be the reason that she feels her wings have been clipped. I would be nothing but a hindrance. My situation would hold her back from everything that she’s destined to become and everything that I know she can be.

I flick the switch on my wheelchair to turn it on and maneuver over to the window. This is what my day mainly consists of now. Seeing everyone else living their lives. Watching the world go by as if that night didn’t happen. Wishing I could turn back time. Knowing this is the way it has to be.

“Hey.” Denham calls, opening the door.

“Hey.” I glance over as he crosses the room.

“You coming over for dinner? Ari’s made enough food to feed an entire army.”

“Ah, I think I’ll pass. Thanks anyway though.” I give a small smile and turn my attention back to the window.

“You feeling okay?” he asks with a frown.

I shrug, “Yeah, just don’t feel like being sociable, that’s all.”