“And good food,” Kyrone promised.
“That sounds perfect.”
Kyrone beamed. “Just like me.”
23Jared
“Hey, kiddo,” Faye said in a soft voice.
Jared opened his eyes as much as the screaming pain in his head would allow him. He must have fallen asleep on the sofa during his lunch break, which wasn’t what he’d intended to do at all.
“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to sit up.
Faye put an arm on his shoulder and gently pushed him down. It didn’t take much force to convince him to stay put.
“I think we need to have a chat,” she said.
Jared’s stomach twisted into tight knots. He’d been expecting this conversation for a while and was only surprised Faye hadn’t decided to let him go sooner. It seemed that the more she let him do, the faster a headache would come on.
“I’ve noticed something,” she went on. “Recently, you’ve been okay in the morning, but you’ve been hit hard with headaches in the afternoon.”
She was right. It was as if his brain could only take so much concentration before it forced him to take a break. He was doing tattoos by himself now under Faye’s supervision. Completing a tattoo from start to finish rather than just doing the filling in or just doing the outlining was fulfilling but almost more taxing. Every tattoo he’d done had felt like a victory but also a huge step back as pain devoured him for the rest of the day.
“I was thinking that maybe you should reduce your hours.”
Jared’s lifted his eyebrows in surprise. She wasn’t letting him go?
“I know it’s probably not ideal for you financially, but I think it’ll be better for you.”
“You’re not letting me go?” he asked, still not quite believing it.
She squeezed his shoulder. “That didn’t cross my mind. You’re too talented to let go, plus I like you and so do the guys.” She sighed. “But working full time isn’t doing you any good. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and the strain is really starting to show. It would be remiss of me to let you carry on like this, knowing you’re damaging your health.”
He stared at her through half-closed lids, not sure what to say. Everything she had said made sense, but it was hard to admit that he couldn’t cope with the same hours as a healthy person. Reducing his hours was also a bitter pill to swallow because money was tight as it was.
Maybe it was time to tap into the trust fund his parents had created for him. He had no idea how much money was in there. Certainly not enough to top up a part-time wage to a full-time one, at least, not for any length of time. His parents had told him they’d set them up for each of their children when they were born, with the intention that there would be enough for a deposit on a house when the time came for them to leave home. The thought of accessing it made his stomach churn. He’d hadn’t wanted their money before, but now he knew that they’d kept things from him, accepting it felt even worse. Admittedly, it would have been impossible for them to tell him every little detail about his life, but facts like being kicked out of school and having a boyfriend who had been forced into conversion therapy weren’t exactly small things.
“I think mornings would work best for you, don’t you?” Faye asked.
Jared nodded dumbly. He loved working at Ink Envy and didn’t want to give it up, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to afford to live. If working part time was going to be his new normal, he would have to swallow his pride and ask his parents for help.
“Are you okay, kiddo?”
“Yes.” Jared knew the wobble in his voice told a different story.
“Do you want to try that again?”
He laughed sadly. “I’ve been trying really hard to have a normal life, but I can’t.”
“Oh, kiddo.” Faye sighed. “I can’t imagine how tough it’s been for you.”
It had been hard. From the moment he’d woken up, every day had been a battle. First, to cope with the loss of his memory, then to learn how to do simple tasks again, like walking, dressing himself, and even holding a pencil. He’d overcome it all, but he couldn’t conquer the headaches and migraines or the exhaustion that plagued his body. Those and the gaping hole in his memory were going to be the everlasting legacy of the accident. It was so unfair.
“Look at me,” Jared hissed. “I’m descending into self-pity. This is my life, and I’ve got to deal with the blows I’ve been dealt and find a way to get on with things.”
“I think you’re entitled to a little bit of wallowing,” Faye said.
“I’ve had my few seconds,” Jared said defiantly because he wouldn’t let himself become defeated. Losing a chunk of his wage was simply another obstacle to overcome. It wouldn’t be half his pay in real terms. He wouldn’t have to pay as much tax, for a start.
