I bit my lip, but nodded. “Sounds good, bud. Thanks again.”
Making my way back into the house, I heard movement toward where I kept my paint stuff and then Quinn’s soft voice. “I didn’t want to start eating without you, so I figured I’d start cleaning up your supplies since we made a mess earlier.”
“Ah, shit. Did it get all fucked up?” I asked, worry ringing in my tone.
“A couple of the paints fell out of the packaging. I think I put them back right, though.”
I made my way over toward the sound of her voice, slowing as the shadows shifted just the slightest bit. I’d gotten to the table then. I put a hand out, feeling the cool wood beneath my touch before placing Rusty’s bowl of food and a fresh pile ofclothes down. “Can you tell me the order the paints are in? From left to right.”
She rattled off the colors—only the yellow and orange seemed to be out of place, which she switched around for me at my request.
“So, that’s how you know what colors you're using,” she mused, a sense of awe in her voice. “I was wondering how you knew you were using the right ones. How do you guarantee that you’re painting with the right colors though?”
“I mean, I can’t. I try to put the paint set away the same every single time, and open it the same way. Every time I get a new set, I make Travis tell me the order of the paints so I can add it into a note on my phone.”
“Wow. I admire the dedication. I don’t think I’d have the patience to go through all those steps.”
I huffed. “Yeah, well, bein’ blind forces you to learn patience. It’s just another part of the process If I wanna paint. I wasn’t like this before. Completely opposite, actually.”
“Really?” There was no mistaking the intrigue in her voice. I knew she wanted to know more about me. About the accident, but I got the feeling she was holding back.
Running a hand through my hair, I nodded. “Oh, I was the definition of impatient. Always in a hurry. Always goin’ about a hundred miles an hour..” I blew out a breath, sliding my tongue over my teeth as a flash of annoyance swelled in me. “It was a hard lesson to learn. One I still struggle with, really.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied, just as her hand settled gently against my own. So opposite of Travis’ shoulder slaps. “For the record, I’m absolutely amazed at how independent you are. And I’m not just saying that. I don’t think I’d be able to function.”
“You get used to it.” Every fiber in my body felt like it was clamming up, freezing at the thought of sharing anything else about my situation.
“Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold,” she said, entwining her fingers with mine and leading me towards the couch, if I remembered the layout of the house correctly. I don’t know if she saw my nervousness and chose not to push or if she genuinely didn’t plan to ask me any more questions about it, but I was grateful for the moment to sort through my emotions.
A few seconds after I’d sat, she guided my hand to a paper plate weighed down by food. “I gave you a couple pieces. If you want I can feed Rusty really quick. He looks sad and mopey.”
I thanked her for both, and then silence descended on us as we all ate. It wasn’t stilted or awkward, but there was an undercurrent of tension present. Quinn had something on her mind—my accident, if I had to guess. But she didn’t say anything about it or push me to talk. She’d been good about that, for which I was grateful. Despite setting my mind on telling her everything, I needed these quiet moments to prepare myself. It was a hard story to tell, an even harder pill to swallow. I was about to show her every ugly, broken part of me and lay it bare. It was scary as hell and fucking sucked.
I waited until it seemed like both of us were done eating before setting my plate down and leaning back against the couch cushions. With a sigh, I grumbled, “Well you might as well sit back and get comfortable, darlin’.”
“Comfortable for what?” she replied, her words thick with confusion.
“You wanna know about my accident, don’tcha?” Fuck, the words were hard to get out. It felt like glue had replaced the saliva on the roof of my mouth.
“Hux,” she sighed, and I felt the couch shift to my left. Her hand settled on my thigh a moment later. “You don’t have to tell me.”
I shook my head, angling my body toward her voice. “I do. If we’re gonna explore this connection between us then you deserve to know why I’m the way I am.”
A pause as more shifting unfolded beside me, the warmth of her body settling next to mine, and then. “Okay.”
“Well, what all do you know? You said you and Whit looked me up.” My leg started twitching at my side. Fuck, I hated talking about this.
A moment later, the weight of her hand rested against my leg. She squeezed gently. “I saw the video and read some articles talking about the accident. How you had a traumatic brain injury and went blind from it.”
I nodded. “That’s basically the gist of it. Had to learn to walk again. Spent the first year just tryin’ to…” Blowing out a breath, I shrugged, “get back to normal, I guess. Not that this is normal, but well, it’s my new normal. It was hard. Still is. Some days are better than others.”
Quinn didn’t say anything, though she did settle closer against me. Her scent, her warmth, it was like a salve to my soul, soothing some of the anger and hurt that still lingered. I don’t think it would ever go away. Not fully.
“Do you miss it?” she finally asked.
“Every fuckin’ day,” I replied, blowing out a breath.
“Tell me about it?” Quinn asked, before quickly adding, “I mean, you don’t have to if it’s too hard. But… I don’t know, it seems such a shame to hide a part of you that you clearly still love so much.”
