Blooming After Betrayal

"What are you looking at?" Marcus's voice reached me before he did.

"Here. I got you the crutches." Marcus walked over and held out a pair.

I took them and looked them over. Cheap stainless steel crutches, the kind that cost maybe twenty dollars.

Even worse than the ones I'd been using before.

They were heavy and rigid, the kind that would rub my underarms raw after a few minutes.

"Try them out. When you're done, clean up the condo. Jess is coming over, and I don't want her walking into a mess."

He didn't wait for a response before hurrying out the door.

No need to wonder where he was going. He was off to pick up my so-called best friend.

My phone screen lit up. A text from my brother, Nathan.

[Flight's booked. Tomorrow night at nine. I'll pick you up at the airport.]

[Okay.]

Ten minutes later, Jessica and Marcus walked in together.

The moment they stepped through the door, Marcus frowned.

"Ren, didn't I tell you to clean up?"

"The place is a mess. What's Jess going to think?"

Jessica looped her hand around his arm and gave him a sugary pout. "Oh, don't worry about it. Not everyone is as obsessive as I am about keeping a place spotless. Besides, Ren can barely walk right now. Don't be so hard on her."

"A broken leg is exactly why she needs to move around more. I just got her new crutches. A little walking won't kill her."

Marcus's expression softened. He tapped Jessica lightly on the forehead, his voice warm with affection. "You spoil her too much. No wonder she's gotten so lazy."

"You're partly to blame for that." Jessica laughed.

I watched their little performance in silence. In that moment, they looked like the couple.

And I was just the hired help who'd done something wrong, waiting to be scolded.

Scenes like this had played out countless times before.

The day I came home from the hospital, Jessica suggested we celebrate with taco night.

"Ren, why don't you go pick up the groceries? A little exercise will be good for you. Help you recover faster."

She made it sound so thoughtful.

"Not a bad idea. She really should get more exercise," Marcus agreed.

Marcus hesitated, then picked up the grocery list and his keys. "Actually, Ren, I'll come with you. You can lean on me."

He'd barely opened the front door when a shriek came from the kitchen.

"Marc! I cut my hand! It really hurts!"

He rushed to the kitchen in a panic. "Ren, go get the groceries yourself. Let me check on her."

I stepped outside into twenty-three-degree cold.

By the time I made it back from the supermarket, my hands and feet were completely numb.

I could barely stay on my feet.

But when I walked through the door, the two of them were curled up on the couch under a blanket, chatting and laughing.

When Marcus noticed me, he hurried over with a mug of hot tea.

"Ren, you must be freezing. Here, drink this and warm up."

"Jess says she's cold and might be coming down with something, so we're skipping taco night. I'm taking her home. You can figure out dinner for yourself."

Finally, Jessica seemed to remember something.

She pulled a set of clothes from a bag. A pair of cartoon pajamas.

"Remember when you said my pajamas were cute? I knew you liked them, so I bought you a matching pair." She handed the pajamas to Marcus.

His face lit up. I'd spent years hoping he would look that excited over something from me.

Now I was finally seeing it. Just not because of me.

I'd once spent hours picking out pajamas for him, then watched him open them with my heart in my throat.

All I'd gotten was a flat, "Thanks. I already have enough pajamas. Don't buy me any more. They just take up closet space."

He wasn't wrong. Those pajamas had sat at the bottom of the closet since the day I bought them. He never wore them once.

Marcus took the bag and walked into the bedroom.

Jessica finally turned her attention to me.

"Sorry, Ren. The store didn't have your size, so I couldn't get you a matching set."

"But don't worry, I got you a different present. You're going to love it."

She produced a shoebox.

"Ta-da! The high heels you've been wanting forever."

Then she gasped. Her gaze dropped to my leg, and her voice cracked. "I'm so sorry, Ren. I forgot about your leg. You can't wear heels right now."

Forgot. Again. This was the third time she'd "forgotten" since I came home from the hospital.

The first time, she'd given me running shoes. The second time, she'd invited me to go swimming.

Every single time, she jabbed at my sorest spot, then tearfully apologized, and then...