[Celeste]
Two weeks. Two agonizing weeks had passed since we left London, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the world I'd once known had crumbled entirely. Everything suddenly felt different—especially Ryder.
The doctors had said my inability to walk was psychosomatic, a fancy way of saying it was all in my head. But how could it be when both legs still felt so numb?
Ryder, of course, had tried everything. He behaved more affectionately, paid far more attention and tried to do even the simplest things for me—like showering or helping me get dressed. At first, I welcomed it. Who wouldn't? For a moment, it felt like love—like we were closer than ever. But it didn't take long for me to see the truth. It wasn't love; it was pity.
And pity was the last thing I wanted from him.
I finall
