Good Intentions ⇼ Luke Hemmings

Everyday, it’s the same routine. Wake up at 6am, cook breakfast for Luke and myself, pack two lunches—one for him, one for me, help him move into the living room, get him anything else he needs, get to work by 8, assistant care takes him to and home from physical therapy at 3—back at 6, and I’m home by 7:30 to cook dinner, help Luke into the bath, and help him to bed by 11 or midnight. It’s been like this for nearly a month now, and Luke is nowhere close to walking with a cane. His therapist tells me that he’s having difficulty learning, and the only upside is that he’s no longer bound to the wheelchair—well, he can’t walk either, so it’s just as bad. As he is confined to my flat, I am confined to him. Normally, I’m fine with it, but I had such a bad day at work, that I didn’t want to come home to him at all. So, I stayed an extra hour at work—which only made my mood worse. I stopped on my way to get chinese food and and it home by 8:45, I gave Luke his food and told him to call me when he wants to go to bed, then left him alone.

“Romy!” He hadn’t waited more than ten minutes before he called for me.
“What, Luke?!” I growled, rubbing my eyes.
“Romy! Come here! I need you!” He insisted. I didn’t want to get out of bed, I was too comfortable just lying there. “Romy, please!” He begged. Groaning, I pulled myself out of bed and to the living room.
“What?” I crossed my arms
“I wanted to give you time to change.” He smiled.
“And you didn’t even give me time to do that.” I grumbled.
“Sorry.” He frowned.”Come watch a film with me.” He pat the open seat next to him.
“No.” I refused.
“Why not?” He whined, throwing his head back. “I’m so bored, I’ve been bored all day!” He complained.
“Well, I’m sorry you’re bored.” I rolled my eyes. “But I’m tired, and I want to-” He cut me off.
“Watch a film with me?” He asked, smiling.
“No. I want to go take a shower and get out of this dress and maybe have a glass of wine while I relax. In my room. Alone.” He drummed his fingers along his plate.

“Why do you want to be alone?” He inquired, staring at me. I sighed.
“Because I’ve had a shitty day.” I growled, trying not to lose my temper. “Is it too much to ask that I come home, to my flat, and be alone?” He played with his lip ring, staring at me.
“Why was your day so shitty?” He spoke slowly, as if he was trying his hardest not to make me more angry than I already was. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I mumbled, watching as Luke set his food on the table.
“I want to hear about it.” He insisted.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He pulled my hand, causing me to sit on the couch.
“Please?” He pouted, putting his head on my shoulder and looking up at me with big, puppy dog eyes.
“Fine.” I gave in, shrugging him off my shoulder.
“Why was your day so horrible?” He asked, staring at me.

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “There’s a temp covering for you, and he’s the biggest arsehole I’ve ever met in my life!” I complained. “He’s always hitting on some girl, and when it’s not them, it’s me! If he can’t find some other girl, he harrasses me. He comes to my office and fucks with me every goddamn day! I can’t get a break! And today, he tried to kiss me! I pushed him away but he still tried until I got up and left! I went to go talk to Peter, and all he said was that he doesn’t choose who the temp agency sends out. He tells me that there’s nothing he can do about it, and we’d just have to wait until you got better. Can you believe that? God, Peter can be such an arse sometimes.” I finished off my rant by rubbing my eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Luke frowned. “I’m trying my hardest to get better.” He promised.
“I know you are.” I set a hand on his knee. “It’s not your fault.” He stared at me as he slowly moved my hand from his knee and intertwining his fingers in mine.

“Can I-” He began, cutting himself off before pulling my hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. “Is this okay?” He asked quietly, kissing it again.
“It’s okay.” I couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“What about this?” His voice was quiet as he set his hand under my chin, tilting my head up as he gently pressed his lips to mine. “I guess so.” He pulled my body on top of his so I was straddling his lap and began kissing me again. His hand found its way to my legs, then slowly up my thigh, and he slid his hand under the bottom of my dress. I couldn’t help but pull away. Luke looked at me like he’d done something wrong, and quickly retracted his hand. “I’m sorry, Luke.” I whispered, “But I can’t.” Standing up, I rushed to the bathroom and locked the door.

***

“Hey, are you ready to go to bed?” I asked quietly. I’d just gotten out of the shower, and dreaded facing him again. But, I had already stalled for the longest time, and I had get out eventually.
“Yeah.” He didn’t look at me. Instead, he turned off the telly and waited. The most he could do was stand and take a few steps with assistance before his legs gave out, and that made it a hell of a lot easier to transition to the bedroom. After he was back in the wheelchair, and I was pushing him to the spare bedroom. “Sorry.” He mumbled, in response to earlier.
“It’s fine.” When we got to the bedroom and I helped him in bed, he peeled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. I couldn’t help but sigh as I walked around his room and picked up the dirty clothes he threw around.
“No work tomorrow?” He asked, staring at his phone.
“No work.” I confirmed. “I can take you to therapy.”
“Cool.” And with that, I left him alone.

***

I sat and waited for Luke to be done with his Physical Therapy, and I couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt to be needed, to be depended on. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone need me—actually need me. And Luke needed me. He needed me to cook him dinner, drive him places, clean up after him, and I needed him, too. I needed him to feel more like an adult. I needed him to feel like I mattered. It’s hard to feel like you matter when your friends pretend they don’t hate you and your family hasn’t called back in two months. And as I’m sitting here, I feel like none of that matters. I feel like these mothers who sit, waiting for their teenagers(who pretend like they don’t need them, but they really do).

When Luke’s therapist came out, I stood, clutching my bag. Typically when he comes out, he tells me Luke is ready to leave. But today, Luke stayed an extra hour and a half, and his therapist smiled warmly at me.
“Luke needs you.” His voice was deep and relaxing, but I was still nervous as I followed him down the hall. The last time Luke stayed later than he usually did, he had an angry fit and refused to work anymore. I had to pick him up myself, as he refused to go home on the assisted care bus. I assumed it had been one of those times, because the door was shut. When Luke’s therapist opened it, I slowly walked in to see Luke holding himself up with a cane.
“Luke!” I smiled widely, covering my mouth. “Look at you!” I felt proud, like a mother watching her child walk for the first time.
“Watch.” Luke spoke, slowly walking towards me. I couldn’t help but bite my lip as he walked up to me. I felt like I was about to cry from watching him. He’s been restricted for so long. I couldn’t help but grab his face and lean up to kiss him when he reached me. It was obvious that he was as surprised as I was by my actions, but he kissed me back anyways.

“Does it hurt?” I asked in a small whisper.
“Only about as much as it always does.” He replied.
“I’m so proud of you.” I covered my mouth again, backing up a little. “You look like an old man!” I joked, causing him and his therapist, Chris, to laugh. “So, can he use that now, or?” I turned my attention to Chris.
“Well, I’m sending him home with the wheelchair and cane, so I would recommend that he only uses the cane when he’s with you, just in case he falls. If you’re going to be out for a while, I’d suggest using the wheelchair. Day by day, he can use it more. I’ll let you know when he can exclusively use the cane and start going to work again. Until then, we’ll continue with our daily routine. It’s going to be quite a while until Luke can walk without the cane, not to mention driving again. We just have to be patient.” Smiling, I thanked Chris and helped Luke into his wheelchair and got him in the car.

“Hey, Romy?” He asked as I drove.
“Yeah, Luke?” I smiled, glancing at him.
“Do you think we can invite our friends over tomorrow? I want them to see me walk!” He reminded me of a child, the way he was so excited. I couldn’t help but smile, but quickly purse my lips together.
“I can ask them if they want to come over, but I’d have to go to the store.” He was quiet for a few moments before turning the radio down.
“We can go now.” He insisted, his eyes shining.
“Okay.” I agreed, “But I don’t want you using your cane, you’ve been doing a lot of work today, you need to rest.” He silently nodded. “I just-” I paused, “-I want you to remember how our friends are, Luke.” I warned. “They’ll care that you’re walking again, but only for an hour or so.” I glanced at him, giving him a small smile, in hopes I didn’t upset him.
“I know.” He sighed.
“I care, though.” I pointed out. “I care, a lot. I’m really proud of you.” I wanted to make sure he knew that.
“I know.” He smiled.

“Hey, Romy?” He asked again as I pulled into the car park.
“Yeah, Luke?”
“Has anyone bought my flat yet?” He asked as I turned off the car.
“Yeah.” I nodded slowly.
“So, all my stuff is out, right?” He questioned.
“All your stuff is at my flat.” I confirmed.
“Guess your stuck with me, now.” He grinned, causing me to laugh.
“Hey, Romy?” He asked for the third time as I searched for my bag.
“Yeah, Luke?” I sighed quietly.
“What if I used my cane to walk into the store and get a powerchair thing?” He smiled, sheepishly. I knew he just wanted an excuse to use his cane. “You know, so you don’t have to push a cart and everything.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his reasoning.
“Okay.” I agreed, grabbing his cane from the back and helping him out of the car.

As we were grabbing the few things we needed, Luke looked up at me.
“Hey, Romy?”
“Yeah, Luke?” I handed a box of pasta to Luke.
“You kissed me today.” I couldn’t help but stop moving and close my eyes.
“Yeah, I did.” I mumbled, handing him a jar of spaghetti sauce. I began walking, and he followed me.
“Why?” He asked, taking a box of frozen garlic bread from me.
“I don’t know.” I lead him to a new aisle. “I was excited, and I just did it, okay?”
“I mean, I’m not complaining or anything, but-” I cut him off.
“You kissed me yesterday!” I defended myself.
“I know, but-” Again, I cut him off.
“No ’but’s.” I frowned. “I don’t know why I did it. I’m sorry if it upset you.” We headed towards the check out. “Okay? Better? Now, go return that chair.” I took out our items and pointed to the customer service desk. I met him over there when I finished paying and helped him stand from the bench he sat on.
“I wasn’t complaining.” he grumbled as we walked back to the car.
“Never said you were.” I helped him into his seat. “And, anyways, why does it matter?” I asked, starting up the car.

“I-I mean, it doesn’t.” He defended himself.
“Then why are we talking about it?” I frowned, somewhat upset that it didn’t matter to him.
“I don’t know!” He sighed, grabbing at his hair. “I guess I’m just trying to say that it seems like we can never keep away from each other. We’re always kissing or making out or touching each other. And I just think… I don’t know.” He played with his lip ring before biting his lip.
“Well, we live together.” I tried to reason.
“It’s not that!” He sounded exasperated. “It’s like, Jesus Christ, Romy. You’re not making this easy to say. I-I think… Fuck it, I’ll sound stupid.” He shook his head, dismissing his thoughts.
“Say it.” I softly spoke.
“I think… Maybe we are meant to be together after all.” He blurted out, causing me to lose focus for a quick second. My throat felt dry, I had no idea what to say.
“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t. We don’t know that, Luke.” I bit my lip.
“Can… Can we try again?” He looked out the window, as if he was scared of my response. I was at a loss for words. I had no idea what I wanted from Luke anymore.
“I just need time to think, okay? I don’t know if I want to try again. And it’s not you, it’s because I don’t want to keep hurting you. Give me some time to think, okay?” He nodded slowly.
“How much time?” He rasped.
“Give me a week.”
“Okay.”

“Hey, Romy?” Luke asked once the lift doors shut.
“Yeah, Luke?” I replied with ease.
“Do you think I look like a pimp with the cane?” He smiled, crooking his head.
“Definitely.” I joked.
“Hey, Romy?” He asked for the sixth time today.
“Yeah, Luke?” I sighed, pushing him down the hall.
“You look really good in that shirt.”
“Thanks.” I couldn’t help but blush. “You look really good in those sweatpants.”

Notes

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