Help me, won`t you?

Chapter 8: Brotherhood and Bitter Truths

I waited for her call. I waited until the last possible second, my heart heavy with a mixture of anxiety and raw, burning jealousy. How else was I supposed to feel? I was trapped in this hospital room while she was out with a man—a stranger—halfway across the world. It’s hard enough being without her, but knowing some bastard is probably hitting on her while I’m stuck in this wheelchair... it was driving me insane. I’ve made progress, sure; I can move my legs a little, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough to protect what’s mine.

I woke up the next morning with my phone gripped in my hand. Still nothing. No text, no sign that she was safe. My nerves were frayed to the breaking point. I tried to tell myself she was just tired, that she simply forgot, but my mind kept spinning darker scenarios.

A knock at the door interrupted my spiraling thoughts. Fedya walked in, looking far too relaxed for my current mood.

"Hey, brother. What’s with the look? You look like you're ready to commit murder. I hope I’m not the target," he said, taking his usual seat by the window.

"You’re lucky you're my brother, or you might be," I grumbled, though a small smile finally touched my lips.

"Alright, I’m all ears. Tell me what happened while I was gone for two days."

I told him everything. The messages, the photo, the surgery, and the agonizing silence from Lena. I watched his expressions shift from shock to amusement, his "big brother" instincts clearly fighting the urge to mock me.

"Let’s start with the good stuff," Fedya said after I finished. "I’m proud of you. The treatment is working, and you're actually fighting for her. As for the jealousy... it’s normal, Igor. But did it ever occur to you that she might have just crashed? Maybe she was exhausted, her phone died, or she just fell asleep the second her head hit the pillow?"

"Fedya, you’re not helping. You’re making it worse."

"I’m just being realistic, bro. Look at you—you’re going to snap that phone in half. Just wait. She’ll call."

I hated that he was right. I was overthinking everything. I spent the morning going through the grueling routine of pills, injections, and physical therapy sessions. Fedya stayed by my side, and I caught the look of genuine admiration in his eyes as I pushed myself through the exercises.

As we were heading back to my room, a loud, aggressive voice echoed down the corridor. We stopped to see what was happening. A young man, barely thirty, was waving his arms and shouting at the doctor who was covering for Lena.

"Where is Lena? I can't get through to her! I need her now!"

"Sir, I’ve told you," the doctor replied firmly. "Elena Vladimirovna is away. I cannot give you her location. Now, who are you exactly?"

"I'm her brother! I need to find her. She always tells me when she’s leaving town. Now I can’t find her anywhere!"

He looked twitchy, desperate. The gambling debts must be closing in on him. Did he really think he could just drag Lena back into his mess?

"Wait, Igor, why are we just standing here?" Fedya whispered.

"That’s her brother," I muttered. "Let’s get to the room. I have something to tell you."

Once inside, I laid out everything I knew about Lena’s family and the leech she called a brother. Fedya paced the room, his frustration boiling over.

"Don't tell me you're planning to play the hero," Fedya snapped. "I get the love and the romance, but Igor—you’re in a wheelchair! How do you plan to solve her problems? Does she even know you're thinking about this?"

"I haven't figured it out yet," I admitted. "In this chair, all I can do is talk, and talk is cheap with people like him. I need to be on my feet."

Fedya sat down, looking at me with a heavy, judgmental stare. "Let me get this straight. You’re pushing yourself to walk again... just so you can save your princess from her scumbag brother?"

"Yes," I said, meeting his gaze.

"You’re an i***t! A total moron!" Fedya shouted. "We’ve spent so much time and money to get you here, and you’re willing to risk it all for this? The moment Lena gets back, she’s going to hear about this from me. You have a brother, Igor! Why is it so hard to ask for help?"

"Fedya, calm down. I wasn't going to do anything until she gets back. I just... I want to be ready."

"Think twice before you act, okay?" Fedya sighed, his voice softening. "I’m on your side, always. But Lena needs to be in the loop. By the way, what time is it?"

I checked my phone and felt my heart leap. Five unread messages. All from Lena. My face must have changed instantly because Fedya started smirking.

"Well, look at that. The knight’s lady has awakened?"

Lena (9:39 AM): "Hi, please don't be mad at me. I was so exhausted last night I didn't even make it to the shower." Lena (9:45 AM): "Don't think for a second I traded you for someone else. I just ran out of steam and blacked out the moment I hit the bed." Lena (9:52 AM): "I hope you’re just in therapy and not ignoring me because you're angry." Lena (9:58 AM): "I miss you. I wish I could be there to see your progress." Lena (10:04 AM): "Just send me one message so I know you're okay."

A massive grin spread across my face. She hadn't left with that guy. She hadn't forgotten me. She was just tired. My girl was just tired.

Me (10:29 AM): "Hi, my little one. I was so worried, I couldn't sit still. I was just in therapy and didn't have my phone. Don't worry, I trust you."

"So, Sir Lancelot, you happy now?" Fedya teased.

"You were right. She just fell asleep. Thanks for keeping me from losing my mind," I said sincerely.

"No problem. So... are you going to tell her about her brother?"

The phone buzzed again.

Lena (10:36 AM): "Thank you for trusting me. How are you feeling? Are you doing everything the therapists tell you?"

"I don't know if I should tell her yet," I told Fedya. "Maybe it’ll blow over. We’ll deal with him when she’s back."

"Fair enough. But hey," Fedya leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I’ve been meaning to ask... how are you going to... you know... with Lena? If you’re still in the chair when she gets back?"

"Shut up, Fedya. Just because I’m in a chair doesn't mean I can't punch that smug look off your face."

"I’m serious! I’m curious. How’s the logistics?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I’m terrified of messing it up."

"Well," Fedya grinned, "I’d suggest the 'cowgirl' position. It’s your best bet if you can't use your legs yet."

I felt my face heat up. "I thought about that too. Hold on, let me reply."

Me (10:43 AM): "Of course, I’m doing everything. I want to be on my feet so I can carry you in my arms the moment you return."

"And what about the rest?" Fedya continued, enjoying my discomfort. "There’s always 69, or just oral. You’re gonna have to put in some work, bro."

"I’m not used to discussing this with anyone, okay?"

"Come on, Igor. You’re a grown man. If you need advice, ask. Are you... you know... good at oral?"

"I... uh... look, I haven't exactly had much practice. Between the army and the service, it wasn't exactly top of the list. My ex used to say I had no imagination. But with Lena... I want to try everything."

Fedya roared with laughter. "Alright, we’ll turn you into a professional. I won't suggest practicing on anyone else, but have you seen... you know... movies? Do you know the mechanics?"

"I’m not that far behind! Of course I’ve seen them. But seeing a guy do it to a girl on screen is one thing; me doing it to Lena is another. Enough! I’ll read some articles, watch some 'educational' videos. I am not discussing my s*x life—that hasn't even happened yet—with my brother."

"Fine, fine," Fedya said, standing up to leave. "I’ll leave you to it. Maybe go take a 'hand-guided' break, it might mellow you out. I’m going home before you start throwing hospital plates at me."

"You’re a real piece of work, Fedya," I laughed as the door closed behind him.

But as I lay there, his words lingered. I really did need to think about it. Sooner or later, it would happen. And I wanted to be ready for her.