Accidental Surrogate

Chapter 283: Zoom zoom 

Sinclair

A crash sounds upstairs. The second one today. I groan and put my head in my hand, honestly not wanting to know.

“Dominic?” I hear my mate call, requesting my assistance. I press my eyes shut, ignoring her for just…just one minute. “Dominic!”

“Seriously,” Roger murmurs, looking towards the door. “What were you thinking, letting her put this insane plan into action?”

I drop my hand and glare at my brother. “Ask me that again when you’re mated,” I murmur, steeling myself as I head out of the room. Roger doesn’t say anything as I go, though I feel his eyes on me. I ignore it.

“Ella?” I call from the base of the stairs. The seat of her stairlift is at the top, so she must be up there.

“Dominic!” Her faint voice comes to me, sounding relieved. “Can you come help? I’m…stuck.” I sigh and pull myself up the stairs.

Three days. Three days she’s had her wheelchairs and her stairlift, and while I’m pleased to see her spirits raised, it’s been a nightmare for me. Three days of watching her zoom around, crashing into every thing I own. I’ve already imagined six thousand ways this could go wrong – Ella sliding off of the stairlift and tumbling down the stairs, Ella somehow miraculously managing to run herself over with the chair, Ella crashing through the banister and flying through the air like Evil Knievel… 1

And you’d think that I was kidding, or exaggerating, but…

As I get to the top of the stairs, I turn to see her wedged, somehow, behind a potted fern in the corner.

“How did you even…do this?” I ask, exasperated, as I walk over to her.

She gives me a bright, if embarrassed, little smile. “I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I just…went forward, and it was there…”

I sigh again – my three hundredth sigh of the day and lift the plant, freeing her. She zooms backwards in the wheelchair, grinding potting soil from the plant into my carpet as she goes. I sigh again. Three hundred and one.

“What are you even do-” I start, but she’s off already, waving to me as she heads down the hall towards our bedroom.

“Things to do!” she calls, waving over her shoulder. “Go back to work, I’ll catch up with you later!”

I shake my head, following her into the bedroom, eager to put a stop to this. “Ella,” I demand, striding in after her. “This has to stop – I’m going insane with worry –”

“What!” she exclaims, appalled, turning her chair in a little half circle so that she’s facing me. Why are you worried?”

staring at her, my mouth hanging

she demands, frowning her pouty little mouth

shake my head. “Ella, in the past three days you’ve broken hundreds of dollars‘ worth of ceramics

a flippant hand. “We can buy new

and she snaps her gaze up at me. I groan again and wipe a hand down my face,

the worst wheelchair driver I’ve ever seen. I seriously don’t even

am amazing at this! What are

I say this – and I love you

and I can’t help but laugh with her. It’s so ridiculous. But I’m so grateful that she finally sees my

giving me a clever,

know what to say. Jealousy… has not even come

she picks up. “If I were bad

lifts one of the chair’s wheels off the ground. My stomach drops as I lurch forward, desperate

I gasp, glaring

fine- this chair can’t tip

anyone can manage it,” I caution, “it’s you.

sighs, shaking her head at me. “Don’t you think you’re being just a little overprotective? I mean, sure, I get stuck behind a potted plant or two.” She shrugs. “So what? I’m fine.” She gives me a bright, happy smile, and I have to say it goes to my heart. It’s good to

I could also feel her pride every morning when she sent me off to start my day. In many ways that was the one thing keeping her together – the idea that she was doing this for the baby, and was letting me go for our people. That her misery was, in some way, an act

conscience could, and

My sweet, clever girl. How do I do this? How do I help her find

chair for the day… my nerves are absolutely at their end. Please. For me. I’ll come to

pick her up and carry her to bed. But then, at

her fingers over the command board and zooming past me, right

cry, growling as I turn to watch

she calls over her shoulder,

I launch myself after her, out into the hallway and to the top of the stairs where she’s already seated herself on the stairlift, buckling herself

button on her stairlift frantically

the lift. Ella gives another little cry, laughing hard and beating her little fists playfully against me as I unbuckle her

the bedroom and laying her down on the bed. When she’s settled I climb onto the bed

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