Chapter 2 - THE DRIVEWAY
The birthday dinner lasted until late afternoon.
Claire stayed inside for most of it.
No one came to check on her except Ethan once.
He stood in the bedroom doorway.
“Are you coming back out?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked at the clock.
“My partners are here.”
“I know.”
“You could at least make an appearance.”
Claire stared at him.
“My legs feel wrong.”
His face tightened.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“Something new.”
She felt humiliated.
“I’m not inventing this.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You don’t have to.”
He looked away.
Then:
“Mom says anxiety can create physical symptoms.”
Claire almost laughed.
“Your mother isn’t a doctor.”
“She’s trying to help.”
That sentence again.
Claire looked down at her wedding ring.
“When did you start believing her before me?”
Ethan did not answer.
He went back outside.
Claire sat on the edge of the bed and cried quietly.
Then stopped.
She hated crying in that house.
It always became evidence.
An hour later she forced herself downstairs.
People were leaving.
Linda stood near the driveway holding leftover containers.
“You should take these,” she said.
Claire looked at the food.
“No.”
Linda’s eyes sharpened.
Ethan was loading gifts into the garage.
“Claire.”
“I don’t want them.”
“You hardly eat anything I make anymore.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Linda stepped closer.
“You think I don’t notice what you’re doing?”
Claire frowned.
“What am I doing?”
“Punishing Ethan.”
The accusation was so strange Claire almost laughed.
“How?”
“Being sick every time something matters to him.”
Claire stared.
“You think I choose this?”
Linda shrugged.
“I think attention can become a habit.”
Claire’s face went cold.
“Stop.”
Linda smiled faintly.
“You’re sensitive.”
Claire turned toward Ethan.
“Did you tell her I’m doing this for attention?”
He froze.
Linda answered for him.
“He’s worried.”
Claire looked at her husband.
“Ethan?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Can we not do this in the driveway?”
Claire stepped toward him.
The ground moved.
No.
Her legs did.
Or failed to.
Both knees suddenly buckled.
Claire collapsed onto the concrete.
Pain shot through one hip.
She tried to stand.
Nothing happened.
Her feet were there.
She could see them.
They did not obey.
Fear exploded through her.
“ETHAN! MY LEGS WON’T MOVE!”
Ethan stood over her.
For one terrible second, he looked frightened.
Then something else covered it.
Anger.
“Get up! Stop ruining my birthday!”
Claire stared at him.
“I can’t!”
She pushed against the ground.
Her arms trembled.
Her legs remained useless.
Linda walked closer and looked down with disgust.
“Pathetic. Crawl if you have to.”
Claire stopped trying.
Not because she gave up.
Because she finally understood something important.
Linda was not surprised.
Ethan avoided her eyes.
He was not surprised enough either.
Claire whispered:
“Call an ambulance.”
Neither moved immediately.
That delay lasted only seconds.
It felt like a confession.
Then one of Ethan’s business partners, Mark Ellis, came around the garage corner.
He saw Claire on the ground.
“What the hell happened?”
Everything changed.
Ethan pulled out his phone.
Linda stepped back.
Concern appeared on her face as if someone had switched it on.
“Claire collapsed.”
Mark knelt beside her.
“Can you feel your feet?”
“Yes.”
“Can you move them?”
“No.”
He looked at Ethan.
“Call now.”
The ambulance arrived in eight minutes.
Claire watched Linda stand beside the garage.
Still.
Unshaken.
Then, as paramedics lifted Claire onto a stretcher, she saw Ethan’s mother quietly pick up the bowl Claire had refused earlier.
Linda carried it inside.
Not to the trash.
May you like
To the kitchen.
And for reasons Claire could not explain yet, that frightened her more than losing movement in her legs.
