Certainly not have any baths on my own.
I reached up and grabbed the boxers off the counter and slid one foot and then the other through the leg holes. I pulled them up as far as I could and then laid back on the floor to pull them up the rest of the way.
It always amazed me what had become my new normal after losing the use of my legs. Things I would have thought impossible to live with before, I didn’t even think about now.
Once I was sufficiently covered, I turned around so my back was to the door and then started scooting backward. When I reached the door, I moved to one side and then reached up and turned the knob, pulling the door open.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Stone snapped as he rushed over to pick me up.
“I’m perfectly capable of getting out of the bathroom on my own,” I argued. “I do it all the time.”
“You’re ill,” Stone insisted. “You shouldn’t exert yourself more than absolutely necessary.”
I knew there was going to be no arguing with Stone. We might have had an understanding about no emotions or personal stuff between us, but the one thing we had plenty of was Stone’s guilt. The man had never forgiven himself for shooting me.
I had been so happy to discover my mate, I had never been able to develop anger toward Stone. After he explained what had happened—including why he had been sent after the guy I had been dating—I couldn’t bring myself to hold it against Stone for shooting me. It had been a mistake, a simple accident.
It had brought me my mate.
The anger at Stone had only come when it became clear the man would never accept me as his mate. The anger, the rage, the heartbreak. It had flooded me when Stone said we could never be together. That in itself told me exactly why the guy was here now.
He felt guilty.
I always thought he would change his mind at some point. Mates were special, to be treasured. But he never had.
When Stone set me down on the bed, I reached for my chair.
“What are you doing?”
I paused with my hand stretched out toward my wheelchair and looked up. “I need to get dressed. In order to do that, I need to get to my dresser.”
Kind of self-explanatory.
Stone huffed. “Just tell me what you need.”
“Stone, I can do it. You don’t have to stay.”
I wanted him to stay.
Desperately.
I wouldn’t voice that want.
Stone’s square jaw clenched. “I’m staying.”
“Stone—”
“I’m staying,” Stone snapped.
I tucked my lips in and looked away.
“What do you need from your dresser?”
“Um.” I glanced back. It was getting harder and harder to swallow. “There’s shirts in the second drawer on the right and some jogging pants on the bottom drawer under that.”
I watched as Stone pulled the items out I needed and then closed the drawers. He walked over and dropped them on the bed. It was a little off-putting to have Stone standing there as I got dressed, but I wasn’t so sure asking him to leave again was in best interest. I also wasn’t sure he’d do it.
“Okay, I’m dressed.” I folded my hands together in my lap to keep from reaching for Stone and begging him to stray, to accept me as his mate. “You can go now.”
