she told herself. Then she would be in her room and by herself.
The blur that was Nick started walking. Izzy went after him, remembering about the step just in time to avoid tripping again. Halfway through the big living room, he stopped and turned. She assumed it was to face her.
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said.
She pressed her lips together and didn’t respond.
“Everything is different now,” he continued. “Whatever you were before, whoever you were, it’s all gone. This is your reality. If you won’t have the surgery, then you’ll have to learn to be blind.”
“Neither is your problem.”
“It became mine the second your sisters called me. You’re here, Izzy, and you’re not going anywhere. You can get through easy or you can get through hard, but you will get through.”
Annoyance turned to anger. Who the hell did he think he was? “Gee, coach, when we win the big game will we all go out for ice cream sundaes?”
“Nice attitude.”
“You like it? There’s plenty more.” She could feel him staring at her.
“What you don’t seem to understand is that your way of getting by, of getting things done, is over. You’re going to have to learn to be a different person. Tougher. Stronger. Whatever you were before doesn’t exist. Maybe you liked yourself, maybe you didn’t, it’s irrelevant now.”
“The psychology is interesting,” she snapped, “considering the fact that you’ve known me all of fifteen seconds. Where do you get off with all this? You’re just some guy who enjoys picking on those who are weaker. That must make you really proud.”
“That’s your first mistake,” he said quietly. “Assuming you’re weaker. As long as you’re weak, you can never win.”
“Oh, right. So that’s the big plan? Break me so you can build me up again? That is not going to happen. You’re not going to win and you’re not going to make me grateful for the process.”
“Then we have a problem.”
“I’m glad you’re finally figuring that out.” She pushed past him and started toward what she hoped were the stairs.
“You have it all,” he called after her. “You’re young, healthy. You have financial resources and a family who loves you. But that’s not enough.”
She paused and turned toward him. “I know. I want to see, too. How ridiculous is that?”
“All that stands between you and what you want is surgery.”
Surgery that could leave her permanently blind, she thought bitterly. But no one wanted to talk about that. No one wanted to deal with the risks. Because for them, there weren’t any.
“Have the surgery, Izzy,” she said in a sharp voice. “Just do it, Izzy. Why not? There’s no downside for you or anyone but me, right? When you have something to lose, we’ll talk. Until then, go to hell. I’m not playing your game. I’m not even interested in your game. I’m going upstairs to my room, that I will find on my own. You’re not going to win this one, and the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for everyone.”
She turned back to the stairs and grabbed the railing. After fumbling for the first step, she got her foot on it and climbed until she reached the landing. She had no idea if Nick was watching her or if he’d already left the room, nor did she care. She was pissed and tired and sore and still thirsty. Her shoulders, arms and back burned from her time in the sun. Worse, she was completely alone. The two people she’d loved and trusted more than anyone had abandoned her and she would never forgive either of them.
She squinted, trying to bring the long hallway into focus. When that didn’t work, she had a second of sweat-induced panic. How was she supposed to find her room? Then she remembered Nick telling her it was the first door on the left.
She took a step in that direction and held out her arm to help her judge the distance to the partially open door. She pushed it open as she went inside.
The sun had long since set, leaving the room in darkness. She ran her hands along the wall until she found a switch and flipped it. Lamps on either side of the bed came on.
The furniture was little more than blurry shapes. She identified them through their obvious placement in the room. The bed was easy—as was the dresser. She guessed the rectangular shape on the foot of the bed was her suitcase, packed by Lexi or Skye. No TV, which was fine. She couldn’t really see it anyway and listening wasn’t all that fun.
There were two other doors. One led to a closet, the other, a bathroom. She turned on the lights, then returned to the bedroom, where she fumbled with her suitcase zipper until she got it open.
She had no idea what had been packed, so there were no memories to help her figure out what clothes were there. The jeans she identified by touch. The same with the bikini panties, thongs and bras. But the T-shirts all looked similar. Was that one white or pale pink? Blue or green? In bright light she could see the difference, but two lamps on a nightstand weren’t enough for that.
She carried a makeup bag into the bathroom, then clipped her hip on the dresser on her return trip. The sharp pain made her cry out, then tears filled her eyes and she just wanted to crawl into a dark hole somewhere and be lost forever.
The fear returned. Fear of the darkness, of the unknown. Anger joined it. Anger that this had happened to her. It wasn’t right, wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve to suffer. Now Lexi and Skye had dumped her with a guy they didn’t even know.
The sharp emotions bled away, leaving behind only despair. What was the point? She couldn’t win this battle. There was no reason to try.
She pushed the suitcase onto the floor and crawled onto the bed. There weren’t any tears. She’d cried herself empty for the past month. She curled up on her side, hurting on the inside from the feelings churning within her and on the outside from the sunburn. She closed her eyes, then quickly opened them to make sure the light was still there.
It was going to be a long night.
Some time later, maybe only a few minutes, maybe an hour, she heard a knock on her bedroom door.
Great. Because Nick wasn’t done being a total bastard.
“Go away,” she yelled.
The door opened.
“I couldn’t hear you,” Aaron said. “It was muffled, but it sounded like ‘come in,’ so I did.”
Izzy sat up. “Did he send you? I’m serious. You can just leave.”
“By he, I assume you mean Nick. No, he didn’t send me. I brought some aloe vera for your sunburn. Do you always throw your clothes on the floor? Won’t that make you trip later?”
His shape stiffened, then bent. She felt the weight of the suitcase on the bed.
“You’re nearly unpacked,” he said. “I’ll just finish up so we can put your suitcase away. How does that sound?”
He
