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?”

24 Zoom Zoom

I pause, staring at her, my mouth hanging open a little with my incredulity.

“What?” she demands, frowning her pouty little mouth at me. “Tell me!”

“Ella, in the past three days

ceramics alone –”

waving a flippant hand. “We can buy new pots who

her gaze up at me. I groan again and wipe a hand down my face, trying to figure out how to say

the side, narrowing her eyes at me, sensing a “but” coming. I oblige her. But,” I continue, “baby, you’re the..you’re the worst wheelchair driver I’ve

she screeches. “I am amazing at this!

my heart. “Please, please believe me when I say this – and I love you – but

her. It’s so ridiculous. But I’m so grateful that she

jealous,” she asserts, giving me a

has

she picks up. “If I were bad at this, could

her chair then in a quick circle that lifts one of the chair’s wheels off the ground. My stomach drops as I lurch forward, desperate

rights itself, zooming out

I

fine- this chair can’t tip over,

I caution, “it’s you. Ella,

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 see her cheerful and engaged

enough.

or so, how miserable she’s been. She thinks she hid it from me to let me go on with my work. But I noticed – of course I did, I could smell her misery on her, could feel it in my very bones. But 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

on my work as

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curled up with her, my troublesome little rose–gold

My sweet, clever girl. How do I do this? How do I

I say calmly, putting out a hand towards her. “Enough chair for the day… my nerves are

a moment, tapping her chin as I take a step closer to her, intending

into her eyes.

quips, flicking her fingers over the command board

of my grasp.

I turn to watch her

me,” she calls over her shoulder, “you’ll

this little taunt. A growl grows inside of

myself after her, out into the hallway and to the top of the stairs where she’s

on the

her Ella gives a little half scream, half cry of

the button on her stairlift frantically to make it go faster. Luckily,

has one speed: glacial. I catch

no you don’t,” I burst out, taking two steps down the stairs so that I’m even

beating her little fists playfully against me as I unbuckle her belt

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