Chapter 2

Amanda crouched by the bed, gripping my hand, her eyes rimmed red.

"I'll play less from now on. I'll spend more time with you."

I gave her a small smile.

"I believe you."

I thought Amanda would finally stop seeing Elwin so often.

That we'd go back to the way we used to be, leaning on each other to get through the days.

And she did stay away for two days.

By the third, everything was back to normal.

She still grabbed a ball and went out to that field.

Sweating it out beside Elwin.

The second time I swallowed the pills was last month.

I didn't do it on purpose.

It was just that when the separation anxiety hit, that surge of panic was too much to bear.

As it happened, not long after I took them, Amanda came home.

She pushed the door open, saw the empty pill bottle clenched in my hand, and sighed.

"Not this again."

She pulled the bottle out of my grip and threw it in the trash.

Her face went hard as she looked at me.

"Winston, you've already lost a leg. Now you think your life's dragging on too long?"

"You won't be satisfied until you've tortured me to death, will you?"

She flung both lines at me, seething, then dragged me to the hospital to have my stomach pumped.

By the time it was over, dawn was breaking, and she was finally worn down to nothing.

"I'm tired. You should rest too."

I didn't sleep that whole night.

I stared at her back and counted how many times she turned over.

Seven.

Not once did she turn to face me.

That night she never turned over, so of course she never saw my tears fall.

Now, I closed the video of the field.

I opened the chat.

The last message still sat there, the one I'd sent two hours ago.

"Amanda, when are you coming home?"

No reply.

Hands shaking, I dialed her number.

"Hello?"

There was heavy breathing on the other end.

And Elwin's laughter, carrying through the receiver.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"The field. Extra practice."

Amanda's voice was careless.

"What is it? If you're hungry, make yourself something."

"I'll be home late tonight."

On the other end, Elwin laughed on purpose, his voice close to the receiver.

"Who's that? Your boyfriend?"

She made a small sound of agreement, then lowered her voice to me.

"Hanging up. Time to go play."

The line dropped into the busy dial tone.

I looked out at the pitch-black night outside the window.

Picturing how the two of them were sweating it out in a hotel room.

While she lied to my face, bold as anything, that she was still playing soccer.

Anxiety shaking my hands, I turned the wheelchair and struggled to reach the pills on the cabinet.

I'd nearly tipped half the bottle down my throat.

Then I stopped.

Amanda's two lines kept circling through my head.

"A cripple with one leg gone, thinking he can fake being sick and chain me down for life?"

"My leg isn't broken. Why would I rot away beside him?"

I put every one of the pills back.

Since she never wanted to "rot" beside me anyway.

Then this rotten life of mine.

Now I was the only one who cared about it.

It was two in the morning by the time Amanda came home.

She fumbled through the dark for the living room light.

Switched it on.

She startled when she saw me sitting on the couch, wide awake.

"You're still up this late?"

She came over to feel my forehead.

I eased away from her hand.

"Home so late today."

Amanda was quiet for a moment, then suddenly smiled and held out a gift box from behind her back.

"I'm late because I was getting a surprise ready for you."

"Three more days and it's your birthday."

"Go on, open it. See if you like it."

She handed me a birthday gift, and when I opened it, there was a soccer ball inside.

I looked down at my amputated right leg.

"Amanda, you're giving me a soccer ball. Am I supposed to just look at it?"

She paused, then lightly took it back.

"Sorry. Wrong one."

She swapped it for a large plush toy.

Looking at that plush character, I fell into thought.

Ever since the crash took my leg.

My freedom had been fenced in.

Every birthday she gave me a plush toy.

She said that when she wasn't home, the toy could keep me company in her place.

But in the bedroom, an entire cabinet was already crammed with identical toys.

Even though I'd brought it up more than once.

"Amanda, I already have two of these."

"If you're going to get me one, could you make it a different character next time?"

Afraid she'd sense I was upset, I kept my tone as light as I could.

She said she understood.

But what I got this time.

Was the same plush toy again.

Now, seeing me go silent, Amanda frowned.

"What, you don't like it?"

I looked down and smiled.

"I like it."

"You picked it out yourself. How could I not like it?"

Only then did Amanda let out a breath.

"Good, as long as you like it."

She peeled off her jersey and tossed it by the entryway, then went into the bathroom to shower.

And from the corner of my eye I stared at that jersey, my gaze turning cold, inch by inch.