The Broken Benefactor

~4~ (3rd HARD EDIT 01/09/2020)

(VALERIE)

Sixteen-hour workdays consumed her life. By the grace of God, assisting him around the house gradually became easier because of Ethan's willingness to listen to her advice despite his burgeoning independence. Helping him figure out the best way to help himself lightened her load significantly. Valerie offered him little tips on how to maneuver his body in different ways that would give him more control and hopefully lessen the likelihood that he would fall.

          She encouraged him to use his wheelchair to reduce the pain and stress associated with his attempts to reclaim his ability to walk unassisted. Unbeknownst to her, his obstinate nature played havoc on his wounds. 

          While she was in his home, Ethan always used his wheelchair. The moment she was out of sight, he had no use for the device at all. He knew getting caught would subject him to a tongue-lashing that was sure to nag his ear right off. By pretending he was one hundred percent compliant, he cleverly avoided the effects of her almond-shaped brown eyes cutting him down to size for exposing himself to danger.

          Valerie's days were never complete unless she spent some portion of her time chastising Ethan for going against his doctor's orders. No matter how hard she tried to convince him that he would heal faster if he followed the doctor's advice, the majority of the time she was simply speaking into the wind.

          She reminisced about the progress he'd previously made before she was inundated with the way in which depression negatively impacted his growth. Two months... he began to walk more and gained better control over activities such as going to the bathroom on his own. At four months, Ethan wasn't ready to step in the shower without her help, but he had no trouble bathing himself. Six months... he was dressing all by himself.

         One day, out of the blue, Ethan collected the mail. Typically, Valerie greeted the postman as she checked the mail. She utilized the same process when she sorted out the garbage and handed her boss the important stuff for him to decide what actions should be taken next. Out of nowhere, he decided to take care of it himself.  

          The moment Ethan rolled into the living room; all the color leeched itself from his face leaving him with a grayish-green stone-colored hue. Valerie knew instantly something was wrong. He sat in front of the coffee table with a piece of mail rattling in his hand shaking as it was being tossed to and fro on a raging sea. A glance gave her the impression that he might vomit. When she made it to the other side just behind his back, her eyes caught a glimpse of the one name still capable of resurrecting the leftover regret he wasn't yet able to shed.

          Charlotte Mahoney... not again.

          That cruel despicable bitch used his address to receive mail for a dress fitting from a bridal store. It was addressed to the future mister and missus Michael and Charlotte Kirkpatrick. Valerie quickly grabbed the postcard, ripped it to shreds, and threw it in the trash.

          It was a shame he chose to collect the mail on that miserable day. Nearly a year had passed since that evil siren decided to leave, and yet, he was healing quite nicely. Due to the messiness of his horrid ex, it was as if he lost his will to continue on the path to resurrect his life. Soon, after he received the letter, he began to use alcohol to ease the pain of his loss.

          The moments when he listened were far exceeded by the ones when he merely appeared to show an interest in doing whatever was suggested. Finding him passed out on the front porch of his house with an empty bottle of Jack Daniels in close proximity and his wheelchair nowhere in sight became common. Pretty soon, these typical morning occurrences highlighted that she had been played.