The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) by Bella Forrest (ebook reader for laptop TXT) 📗

“Don’t worry about it,” I urged, not wanting to disturb her with my own broken ego. What I was going through was my problem, not hers.

Trust is a powerful thing, I realized as I watched her concern morph away, replaced completely with a warm contentment. She didn’t dig any deeper, just trusted my judgement that she didn’t have to worry.

It made me feel even worse than before, like I was lying to her. Even though I wasn’t—not really. Getting back on my feet and into fighting form was my responsibility. I just had to put in the work. And once I was back on my feet, I would feel better. Once I was able to keep up with her again, it would all work out.

I forced a smile and settled my hand on her shoulder. “So how was your day, dear?” I asked, making my voice light and teasing.

She smirked at my comment, which sent another guilty feeling through me as she began to recount the events that took place after I’d been shot. I listened as intently as I could, but soon, my eyelids became heavier and heavier, and sleep reclaimed me.

Several hours later, my eyelids fluttered open as the bed dipped and moved, jostling me. Opening my eyes, I saw Violet standing up, stretching silently.

“Wha—?” I asked, groggy and confused.

“You drifted off,” she whispered. “I napped with you for a while, but I’m late meeting Tim. I’m taking him to the cafeteria for dinner.”

I tried to clear the cobwebs from my head. “Do you want me to come with you?” I asked, trying to force myself into a sitting position. Every limb in my body still felt like it was asleep, even my brain. It was hard understanding what was being said, and it took my mind even longer to formulate a response.

Violet chuckled as she shook her head. “Viggo, you can barely keep your eyes open,” she whispered. “Besides, walking down several flights of stairs is going against doctor’s orders. You’ve got to build up to it. I promise I’ll bring Tim to you tomorrow.”

“No,” I said, my mind revolting at the thought. Violet stepped back, cocking her head at me, and I realized my response had been given more vehemently than I’d wanted. “Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I just… don’t want to meet the only male of your family before I can stand on my own two legs without help. You know… like a man.”

Violet’s eyes narrowed and she frowned. “That’s a little… misogynistic.”

I clenched my teeth in frustration. “That’s not what I meant. I just… I want to be upright, you know?”

“I… can understand that,” she said, but the reluctant quality of her tone told me that she was just placating me. Irritated, I leaned back into the pillow, debating whether it was worth it to try to explain. I ultimately dismissed the idea, reminding myself once again: it wasn’t her burden to bear.

“You’re right. I’m being dumb. Of course I would love to meet your brother.”

The confused look in her eyes softened to a mask of empathy. “No, you’re right. I was… reading too much into the comment. I don’t actually know what you’re going through, but I can respect your wish to meet Tim on your own two feet. And… I just want you to know, you aren’t going through this alone. I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

I really wasn’t sure that I wanted Violet in the room with me while I was going through the physical therapy, seeing me struggle just to stand upright. But as I looked into her shimmering gray eyes, I couldn’t muster up the words to ask her not to come. She looked so hopeful, so bright, so… optimistic.

“That’d be great,” I rasped.

She beamed at me and then stooped over, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Okay, well… I’ll see you tomorrow. The doc said you’ll probably sleep through the night. Unless… do you want me to come back after dinner?”

I shook my head and feigned a yawn. “No. She’s probably right. Enjoy your dinner with your brother, okay?”

Violet smiled again, and then let herself out, giving me a little wave as she closed the door. I held up my own hand, and then dropped it after I heard her footsteps disappear down the hall.

Sliding my hands down my face, I sank back down in the mattress and listened to the steady beeps coming from the machine connected to my heart. It would be hours before I’d sleep again.

20

Viggo

The next day, Dr. Tierney arrived early in the morning—her attitude too chipper for me to do anything other than groan and demand coffee. With her were two people I had never seen before, one teenage boy, probably fifteen or sixteen, and a rounder middle-aged woman with a stern face and no-nonsense attitude.

Between the three of them, they carried several metal poles—two apiece, at various lengths. I sipped the water that Dr. Tierney handed me in lieu of coffee and watched the two strangers as they began joining the poles together by screwing one end into the other.

The boy on the floor kept shooting furtive glances at me, but I ignored them, drinking my water as if I didn’t have a care in the world. After a few minutes, it became clear that what they were building was intended for me—as they wound long bits of fabric around the two long bars on the top.

They bolted the bottom ones to the floor, and then gave them a few tentative shakes before the younger boy grabbed the bars and lifted his feet off the floor, testing them under his weight. He dropped back down and gave a satisfied nod to the older woman, who ruffled his hair before shooing him out of the room.

He laughed, scampering toward the door, where he slammed into Violet as