Chapter 25
I was afraid of the answer.
The irony was not lost on me.
I had once mailed fifty dollars across the country because I feared dying alone.
Now I shared my house with the only woman I had ever wanted to remain in it, and I was too cowardly to ask whether she would.
January arrived.
Snow buried the lower windows.
My leg worsened with the cold.
Some mornings, I could barely bend the knee.
I tried hiding it.
Cora noticed immediately.
One morning she found me bracing myself against the table.
“Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are sweating.”
“Cabin’s warm.”
“The water bucket froze last night.”
I sat.
She knelt and rolled up my trouser leg.
Her fingers examined the old injury.
I watched her face.
No disgust.
No pity.
I had grown to hate pity more than pain.
“You push too hard,” she said.
“Things need doing.”
“I can do them.”
“I know.”
“Then let me.”
I looked away.
“It’s not about whether you can.”
“What is it about?”
I had no answer I wanted to give.
Cora sat back.
“You think needing help makes you weak.”
“No.”
“You do.”
“I lived alone for years.”
“And nearly died.”
“That was an accident.”
“That is usually how nearly dying works.”
I glared.
She was becoming too comfortable with me.
I loved it.
Which made me angrier.
“I managed before you came.”
Her expression changed.
“I know.”
Something in her voice warned me.
But pride is a stupid animal.
Once loose, it runs until it finds a cliff.
“I can manage again.”
Silence.
Cora lowered my trouser leg.
“Of course.”
She stood.
The distance in her face frightened me immediately.
“Cora.”
“I’m going to bring in wood.”
“I can do it.”
She gave me a look so cold even the mountain would have respected it.
“I know.”
The door closed behind her.
I sat alone.
And realized I had just taken the thing I feared most and thrown it directly at her.
I can manage again.
Meaning without you.
Meaning you are unnecessary.
Elias had spent years telling her she was valuable only because of what she owed.
I had tried so hard not to imprison her that I had found another way to make her feel temporary.
I swore.
Actual language this time.
Then I took my cane and went outside.
Cora was near the woodpile.
She had her back to me.