I knew this was a bad idea before I even set foot into our temporary home with The Harte's. They fuss and take care of him in a way that should be down to me but isn't. I know he's uncomfortable with the attention but he otherwise seems happy here. So here is where we will stay.
I've really had to suck it and put my big girl pants on. Not only are there reminders of Elvis everywhere I flammin' look but Olivia has taken it upon herself to make my life as miserable as possible. Sly digs here and there, and any excuse to make me look bad, she'll find it. Charles' recovery is all that keeps me going.
The more I watch him struggle to move and do simple tasks on that bloody leg, I realise that they were right and I was wrong. He never would have managed in my pokey bedroom.
It's also feels very much them and me. I'm lonely here.
It's them who get the sunny Charles but it's me who sees his frustrations more and more often these days. It's them seem to make him laugh and me who seems to say the wrong things.
"Here let me help you" I offer as he struggles to balance on one leg and do the simple task of dress himself thanks to his still tender body.
"I can do it" he says and plants a gentle kiss on the end of my nose. "Stop worrying so much"
I know he can do it, it just hurts me to watch him struggle. It's not in my nature not to help him or anyone else for that matter if they need it and to be honest it was more for my benefit than his. I just want to connect with him.
He moves shakily on his crutches, mumbling about his "fucking leg" as he goes. The 'fucking leg' that is a cause of great concern for self promoted wannabe doctor Olivia. Once again I'm stood on the side lines as her hand finds its way to the small of his back as he moves towards the kitchen, allowing her to help but not me.
"I'm concerned with the lack of mobility. Maybe we should get you back to the doctor"
Maybe she should just fuck of back to barracks and leave it to his actual girlfriend or better still, actual doctors to help make those kinds of decisions.
"Go easy" she says in her most gentle and seductive voice with her tits pushed up to her chin and giggling in his face "Pick your weight up off the leg. We don't want you over doing it" He does as instructed without biting her head off or warning her that she worries too much. Bitch.
I've noticed her dresses are shorter and tighter. And honestly I can't compete with her in the bod department. She's tall, tanned and lean. Army fit. And well I'm just me. Bit on the small side, never seen the inside side of a gym and my thighs are a bit wobbly. But he's never kissed the inside of her non existent wobbly thighs like he has mine, so I've always got that.
I'm most of the way through making him the pancakes he'd been craving the night before when Dr Big Tit's presents him with her efforts of some protein shit shake and healthy goodness to shit all over my unhealthy breakfast.
"The better you eat, the quicker you'll heal" she says, shooting me one of her shitty looks. I'm sure she'd flip me the middle finger if she thought she'd get away with it.
Charles also gives me a look, but a more apologetic one than hers but the kindness and apologetic look on his face just aren't enough. Not today anyway.
