I Always Will

Shallow

Riley Three days later

Row is fingering her long compression tunic and standing in front of me as I sit in my chair at the front door. It's very convenient, the way she's standing. She's blocking the afternoon sun, keeping it out of my eyes as I sip a bottled tea. The light bleeds around the edges of her too-thin form. She looks absolutely knock-kneed in those yoga pants.

I sigh. My fixation on Row's figure has nothing to do with my preferences and everything to do with her health. I don't care what her shape is as long as she's living in way that keeps her vibrant, energetic and not popping pills to maintain it.

She hasn't been abusing diet pills in some time, she says, but she also hasn't been taking care of herself, either. And for weeks now, she's been doing nothing but waiting hand and foot on me. Last night she lay on the rug in the living room and jokingly suggested I could roll back and forth over her in my chair and she wouldn't feel any worse.

"It's exactly how I feel already," she laughed weakly. "Run over. Oh shit..." she moaned as she climbed to her hands and knees, crawled over to me and laid her head in my lap. I stroked her hair softly, biting back a myriad of instructions for improving her energy. I always used to tell her exactly what I thought she should be doing both her in her professional and our private lives. I didn't mean to be bossy, but it turned out, her father was right. It's not easy to turn the manager off and just be a sympathetic partner that doesn't take charge when the star of your life complains of a problem.

Eventually, she said. "I think I need to be healthier better, you know? Like have a protein shake and get some exercise..."

"Instead of 3 hour energy shots, you mean?" I murmured, trying to keep the accusation out of my voice.

Her breath was hot against my knees as she laughed. "You saw those, huh?"

"Well, I saw them in the garbage."

"Okay, yeah. I know that's not really a sustainable thing," she says. "Tomorrow. Protein shakes for both of us for breakfast."

I bit my lip, but I couldn't stop myself. "You did also say exercise...were you serious or just talking?"

She wrapped her arms around my knees hugging them. "Well, we don't have any equipment here..."

That was true. This house is too small for a home gym. Row never worked out, and I always went to the gym in the Colossus building. But I understand her reluctance. I shouldn't have told her I get anxious when she leaves me.

"When we come back from my PT, why don't you go for a jog, or even just a walk," I suggested. "Just around the neighborhood?"

"Uggghh..." she had groaned. "Who wants to walk?"

I snorted. "I wouldn't mind..."

She had looked up sharply, "Fuck, I'm so sorry. That was insensitive."

"You've got to stop apologizing. If we can't laugh a little, what is there?"

She nodded against my knees, then collapsed on the floor again. "Do it. Do it, Riley. Kill me now. I'd almost rather die than go for a jog."

I rocked toward her threateningly with my chair. "I could just break your toes, maybe. Then you'd have an excuse for not exercising, but what shape we would be in then...two invalids trying to take care of one another. Your mother could come. And she would never leave, bwahahaha." I lower my voice to the macabre register.

"That would be a horror worse for you than me," she grinned as she turned on her side away from me. "I would laugh my ass off to see you handing my mom your pee bottle."