Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

‘I suspect you’re going to.’
‘What happened?’ I kept wondering about the marks on his wrists. It was the
one question I couldn’t ask directly.
He opened one eye. ‘How did I get like this?’
When I nodded, he closed his eyes again. ‘Motorbike accident. Not mine. I
was an innocent pedestrian.’
‘I thought it would be skiing or bungee jumping or something.’
‘Everyone does. God’s little joke. I was crossing the road outside my home.
Not this place,’ he said. ‘My London home.’
I stared at the books in his bookshelf. Among the novels, the well-thumbed
Penguin paperbacks, were business titles: Corporate Law, TakeOver, directories
of names I did not recognize.
‘And there was no way you could carry on with your job?’
‘No. Nor the apartment, the holidays, the life … I believe you met my exgirlfriend.’
The break in his voice couldn’t disguise the bitterness. ‘But I should
apparently be grateful, as for some time they didn’t think I was going to live at
all.’
‘Do you hate it? Living here, I mean?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is there any way you might be able to live in London again?’
‘Not like this, no.’
‘But you might improve. I mean, Nathan said there are loads of advances in
this kind of injury.’
Will closed his eyes again.
I waited, and then I adjusted the pillow behind his head, and the duvet around
his chest. ‘Sorry,’ I said, sitting upright. ‘If I ask too many questions. Do you
want me to leave?’
‘No. Stay for a bit. Talk to me.’ He swallowed. His eyes opened again and his
gaze slid up to mine. He looked unbearably tired. ‘Tell me something good.’
I hesitated a moment, then I leant back against the pillows beside him. We sat
there in the near dark, watching the briefly illuminated flakes of snow disappear
into the black night.
‘You know … I used to say that to my Dad,’ I said, finally. ‘But if I told you
what he used to say back, you’d think I was insane.’