Delia was sitting on the couch when the door swung open, revealing Jon with a girl tangled tightly around him. Engulfed in each other, he didn't even realize she was sitting on the couch and she wasn't going to draw any attention to her. She looked away as the tears swelled to her eyes and resumed watching the television instead, trying to block out their whimpers and moans.

"Where's your roommate at?" The girl said breathlessly, causing Delia's ears to perk up.

"Oh that crippled bitch is probably asleep. Her pills knock her out." Jon said back, Delia could hear here the grin in his voice.

All she was, was nothing but a joke to him. There's no telling what Jon had told the strange girl about her. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment and she bit back her cries as she silently curled farther into the couch until they had disappeared into his room.

She stood up a few minutes later and went to grab her wheelchair but failed and stumpled forward, hitting the corner of her eye on the edge of the coffee table. She kept quiet, she wasn't going to ruin his night with the strange girl. Instead, she laid there for a few minutes to gain her bearings and made her way up into her chair before heading to bed, already feeling her eye start to swell.

That night, she said a prayer. She prayed for her health to start looking up better, for Jon to realize she wasn't as worthless as she looked and that she was trying to get better. And for Dylan to not thank ill of her for not being able to fully take care of him. With a tearful sob, she closed her eyes and fell into a forced slumber.
_

"What happened to your eye?" Jon asked as he looked over her sitting form.

"Fell last night, it's alright." She shrugged as she looked down at her lap, too embarrassed to look at him in the eye. Especially after what he had called her last night. The name 'Crippled bitch' had rung through her head continuously and every time, it stung.

He sighed and helped her stand up, not speaking anymore until he walked to the end of the hallway and watched her stumble a few steps but quickly regained her balance.

"C'mon, Delia!" Jon growled, "You can do it."

"It hurts, Jon." She cried, "My leg hurts."

"Walk through it!" He said, a determined look on his face, "You can do it. Come on."

It had been three weeks since she had gotten home from the hospital. She was currently in the hallway, free of anything that could hurt her. She wasn't even using her walker, it was strictly just her. She no longer went to physical therapy, it was just her and Jon's morning routine. This was a every day thing for them in the morning before he went in to work and

She gingerly took another step and winced, keeping her eyes on the floor. Jon's words of encouragement made her strive as she slowly walked down the hall to him. It took her at least thirty minutes to get twelve steps, but she done it. It was more than hse had done in the entire month she had been home.
Delia stood in front of him with a tearful smile. He returned her smile and hugged her gently, not wanting to hurt her shoulder. "I'm proud of you, pretty girl."

Delia looked at him oddly but smiled softly and whispered, "Thank you."

"Alright, well you get back to bed alright? I'm going to drop Dylan off at daycare and then go into work." He smiled as he stroked her cheek.

"No, I can take care of him today." She shook her head, "I'm really, really okay with today. I can do it."

"Don't be silly, Delia." He laughed, ignoring the heated glare she was giving him and turned her towards the living room, "You need to relax and rest yourself up."

"Jon, I want to take care of my son." She said sternly.

"I don't care what you want right now, you'll have plenty of times to take care of him...when you're better." He glared at her and gently pushed her towards the couch.

"Don't fucking touch me, Jon." She said as she stood still, "Don't...fucking...touch me."

"Alright, fine. Walk to it by yourself then." He scoffed, "I'm not leaving my son here for you to not be able to fully take care of him."

"Fuck you," She glared at him, "I can take care of my son."

"Delia," Jon groaned, "I really don't have time to argue with you."

"You never have time!" She shouted as she turned her back to him, "You treat me like I'm just wasting your time lately. Don't fucking worry, Jon. As soon as I get on my feet, we'll be out of your house and you'll only have to see me to get Dylan. I'm not going to need your help for forever, alright?"

"Delia, I-"

"What, you didn't mean it, huh?" She laughed, "That's all your fucking excuse is anymore. 'I didn't mean this,' or 'I didn't mean to hurt your feelings', It's all you ever do anymore! You don't think I haven't heard you talking about your 'crippled bitch roommate' when you bring other girls home? Am I not respectable enough to be addressed by my actual fucking name anymore, Jon?"

"I'm sorry," He whispered. Embarrassment tinged his cheeks when he found out he had been caught, he didn't mean the words. He just was getting lonely and he needed some sort of female acoompiant.

"Don't fucking say it if you don't mean it." She laughed, "You know what...don't even bother anymore. This was been a month of hell for me. Dylan and I will go stay with Angela until I'm healed."

"You're going to stop fucking threatening me with leaving," He glared at her, "I'm doing something nice for you."

"I appreciate you getting a house for me to recover in, but I never fucking asked for it. I know I fucked you over in the past but goddamnit, Jon, I've never degraded you! I've never called you a name and I never will disprespect you like that. I was on the fucking couch when you came in. I was going to tell you the news about my mother but once again, you only cared about what Jonathan needs. And I guess Jon needed to shit all over the crippled girl in his life last night, right? Is that all I am to you?"

"Delia-"

"Don't you fucking interupt me, I'm still talking!" She glared at him, "I've laid my life down for that little boy multiple times and you've never given me praise for that. You've always only seen the bad I've done. I was the one that fell in love with you and I gave you EVERYTHING I fucking had."

"Keep the house, Delia." He whispered, "I'll move out if that's what you really want."

"I want you to love me," She sobbed openly, "I want things the way they used to be. And I've got to work for it, I know. But you moved on twice when my rebound beat the living fuck out of me and i'm STILL dealing with it while the love of my life is laughing his ass off at me. Is that how you really feel, Jon? Answer me!...am I only some crippled bitch to you?"

Jon bowed his head as his jaw ticked. He didn't know what to say. He didn't trust her enough to be with her, but he loved her. For once, he was thinking with his mind instead of his heart when it came to her. "I know what I said was wrong...and disgusting. You're the mother of my son but...I think for right now it' just how it's needs to be, Mary. We can at least still be friends, right?"

"I can't be friends with the man of my dreams, Jon." Delia whispered as she shook her head, "That hurts too bad."

"I'm sorry, Delia." He whispered, "I just can't get the image of walking in on you two together."

Delia's shoulders slumped in defeat and nodded, "It's okay, Jon. I understand. I don't want the trailer. You can have it. And until I'm on my feet fully, I'll let you keep Dylan at nght."

"What are you taking about, Delia?" He sighed, scratching his head.

"I don't want to live where I'm being ridiculed, Jon."

Looks like the feelings have turned a bit.
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