10. Theresa
The last thing she remembered was Derek placing her in bed after carrying her up the stairs like she was a fragile piece of glass. No one had ever helped her like that before, not even her mother. From an early age, she and her sister learned to take care of themselves and not rely on others for help or charity. There was no such thing as a free meal.
Maybe other people would feel comforted after waking up from a five hour nap with a broken leg and see the scooter within easy reach. Maybe someone else who wasn’t as broken inside would appreciate the efforts Derek had made to put a large reusable bottle of water on her nightstand, along with several snacks she hadn’t bought. A container with cut-up veggies and fruit, a bag of pretzels, a jar of peanut butter and honey along with a small loaf of bread, a pile of granola bars, a packet of trail mix, a bag of cheddar cheese covered popcorn, and a container of homemade brownies. A note stood next to the assortment of food.
Her stomach growled as she took in everything. She didn’t deserve this type of treatment, and why would Derek be so nice? No one else would have done this—no one else had access to her apartment or knew about her injury. But he couldn’t go around doing nice things for her. She wasn’t worth it, and sooner or later, he’d realize that.
She didn”t want his help. She didn”t need his help. His kindness was more than she could handle today. He acted nice and kind, and all the things that made her want to forget everything and let him take care of her.
But people always showed their best side at first. It was only after they got someone to let down their guard that they showed their real colors. Their real side. Their real opinion of her, and people never liked her.
She unfolded the note.
“Don”t be stubborn. Call me if you need anything. I”m bringing food for supper at six tonight. Text me your request or you”re stuck with whatever I choose. P.S. Your pain pill is next to the water.”
Sure enough, the small white pill rested on a napkin next to the water bottle. She picked it up first, threw it in the trash bin he’d left next to the bed, and ate a brownie.
When six o’clock came, she pretended to be asleep while Derek crept into the room carrying something smelling mouthwateringly delicious. It was better this way. It really was. Because if she let herself like him, then she’d only be hurt when he realized that a broken ankle was the least of her problems. And she’d hate herself for giving up on finding a man with the type of wealth and resources that could save her mom and sister.
He crept out again less than thirty seconds later. She waited until she heard her front door close and the deadbolt turn in the lock, realizing that he must have borrowed her spare key from the hook next to the door.
She vowed to demand that he return it tomorrow as she savored the homemade lasagna he”d left on her nightstand.
The next twodays passed in the same way. Without fail, fresh food and beverages appeared on her nightstand each day, three times per day. An iPad, subscribed to several streaming services, appeared alongside the food on the second day.
The pain medicine that the surgeon insisted she take home appeared with each meal as well. At first, he placed one pill next to the food. By the third day, he left small doses of acetaminophen instead of the prescription pill.
The fact that he took her pain pills and doled them out like an allowance proved that she had to push him away.
He knew too much. She”d messed up. He heard what she said at the soup kitchen, she confessed too much in the emergency room, and he kept helping her.
He’d get too close.
She didn”t need him in her life. She didn”t need to let someone get close only to watch him realize she wasn”t enough. She was never good enough, not since she was born. Why else would her entire family have abandoned her? She”d never met her father. Her mother”s family disowned them as soon as she and her sister were born. Her sister chose drugs over her. Her mother chose alcohol and random men over her. She finally tracked down her mother”s family two years ago, and they wasted no time letting her know they wanted nothing to do with her.
So why should she let Derek get close? He was a man, after all. Men didn”t help women unless they wanted something in return. And she would never be a person to sleep around or engage in physical acts to repay for favors. There was no way Derek was actually helping just to be nice. Even if he were, he”d leave her as soon as he realized who she really was.
A broken person who wasn”t good enough to have a family.
On Friday, she picked up her phone and sent the first text to Derek since she returned home from the hospital. “Thanks for the food and everything. I don”t need any more help. I”m fine now.”
After blocking his number, she called the first locksmith she found. “Can you change my locks tonight? It”s urgent. Someone else has the key.”