Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“My best friend could be bleeding out right now,” I say. “Or maybe he’s lost the ability to walk, but because my life is business, I’ve got to think about the company. Always the company. No family. No love. No—”
I grab my phone, delete the video, and restart it on the tripod again. This documentary is supposed to be uplifting and inspiring. There will be dark points, of course, but I can’t start it by grumbling. When did I become so depressing? Even Paul comments on it sometimes.
“You need to find yourself a lady.” Those are big words coming from him, considering he’s single, like me. The difference is he has girlfriends occasionally and happily throws himself into a new sport, whether windsurfing or abseiling.
Leaning forward again, I talk to the camera. “I don’t remember meeting Paul. We were both too young. I know it was in kindergarten. The first memory I can remember of him is of climbing a tree. The shortest branch was too tall for us. I offered to give him a boost on my shoulders, but I fell, which meant he fell. He mangled his finger pretty badly. Then he got this look in his eyes, real determined. He told me to climb on his shoulders. Hell, I thought he should’ve gone to the hospital, but he said he wouldn’t leave it unfinished. Not in those words. We were just kids.”
I stop and remember that day, the breeze against my face, the sunlight, the whole future ahead of us. “I never knew it would all go by so fast. I never knew those memories would be so valuable. In the end, we climbed the tree. He helped me up. Then, using his good hand, I hauled him up after me. We got to almost the very top, feeling like conquerors. When we started the company together, that’s how I felt, too…”
But then he left it. He wisely chose to avoid the dreary office life. “Why did we start this business? To share our love of sports… We’ve done that. Now it’s time to enjoy ourselves.”
He left twelve years ago. I resented him for a while, but it never threatened our friendship. Through everything, we’ve always kept it strong. Always.
“Please,” I whisper. “Just make it through this, brother.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Sophie
My heart is breaking as I sit next to the hospital bed. The doctor said that Paul is doing far better than they had hoped. He suffered a concussion, but he’s conscious and able to talk a little. He’s also dosed-up on pain pills to help with the agony of his torn leg.
He’s propped up in bed, his head shaved from where they had to examine his injuries. The room smells of chemicals, sweat, and fear. Paul is looking at me, but out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head is too difficult right now, but he can, according to the doctor. He hasn’t got any spinal damage.
“Don’t… cry… sis…”
I try to smile through the tears, but then I end up making a sobbing noise. “Sorry.” I rub my cheek. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats slowly. Everything he says is labored, with long pauses between the words, as if speaking is a huge effort. “This is my worst nightmare.”
He doesn’t need to tell me that. Over the years, he’s had minor injuries—bruised ribs during martial arts sparring or fights, minor sprains from surfing, and stuff like that. The longest he’s ever been completely out of physical activity has been a couple of weeks.
“The doctor said I might never be the same. He said I should rethink my future.” It takes maybe thirty seconds for Paul to say this, pushing each word out. “I said I’d rather be—”
“No.” I stand up, leaning over the bed, glaring down at him. “I don’t want you to say that. You can’t even think it. There’s a long road ahead of you, I get that, but you can do it. You’re strong. Think of all the times you could’ve quit when I was little. When Mom and Dad…”
“Died because of those junkies,” he says.
I clench my fists so hard, remembering those sad days after Mom and Dad passed. Paul sat up with me, told me stories, and eventually moved us into his apartment. I was only a little kid when our parent’s car was T-boned by two junkies running a red light.
“We’ve been through too much for me to let you give up,” I tell him. “So if you want to have that attitude, you’re going to have to deal with me pestering you every single minute of every single day until you change it.”
Slowly, a smile spreads across his face. It looks like this takes as much effort as speaking. “Thanks,” he says. “Probably needed to hear that.”
“Kaleb is on his way,” I tell him.