Page 20 of Doctor Second Chance

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. A woman in scrubs enters, her smile warm and professional.

"Hi, Eloise. I'm Marissa, your floor nurse. How are you feeling?"

I shrug. "As well as can be expected, I guess."

Marissa nods sympathetically. "I know you’ve been through the wringer these last few days. Let me walk you through your schedule."

She explains that vitals checks will now only happen twice a day, a welcome change from the constant interruptions in the hospital. "You're monitored by computer, so don't hesitate to buzz if you need anything."

I nod, trying to absorb the information.

"You'll have occupational therapy three times a day and physical therapy three times a day as well. The therapists will come to get you for each session."

My eyes widen. "Six therapy sessions a day? When Dr. Hampton mentioned that yesterday, I thought he was exaggerating.”

Marissa smiles encouragingly. "It is, but it's the best way to ensure a quick and full recovery. We want to get you back to your life as soon as possible."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Okay. I'll do whatever it takes. How long am I here for?"

"You're approved in one-week increments," Marissa explains. "The doctor initially asked for three weeks, but they'll assess your progress each week."

I nod, feeling a mix of determination and dread. Three weeks in Birmingham, away from my life, work, and home. But if it means regaining full use of my hand, I'll push through.

"Alright," I say, more to myself than to Marissa. "Let's do this.”

She checks on a few things and is gone. I enjoyed her company, if only briefly. Isabella is coming when she gets off work, but that feels like a lifetime away. I don’t have therapy again until 2:30. I’m guessing this is siesta time, but I’m not much of a siesta girl.

I'm staring out the window, lost in thought when a gentle knock draws my attention. My heart skips a beat as Shep pokes his head in, a warm smile on his face.

"Hey, Elle. Just wanted to check in and see how you're settling in."

He steps into the room, and I'm struck again by how handsome he looks, even in his rumpled scrubs, green today.

His light brown hair has a slight tousle, and a five o'clock shadow lines his jawline. It takes me an extra moment to catch my breath.

"I'm doing okay," I say, surprised by how genuinely happy I am to see him. "Still adjusting, I guess. This place seems nice, though. They had me in the therapy room before I got here. Eating lunch with the occupational therapist is apparently therapy.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased with it. How are your therapists so far?”

“Great, honestly. Everyone has been kind, making this hell as bearable as possible.”

Shep nods, his eyes full of concern. "Is there anything you need? I could bring you a book, a magazine, maybe some candy or coffee. I’m happy to pick something up for you.”

His attentiveness catches me off guard. This isn't the Shep I remember from our college days, constantly distracted by his studies or lacrosse or his fraternity stuff. This version of him is present and caring, and it’s making my carefully constructed walls start to crumble.

"That's sweet of you," I say, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "I'm good for now, though. My friend Isabella is coming by after five or six, and I’m sure she’ll bring some goodies. What do you have going on the rest of the day?”

He shrugs, hands in his pockets. “Finished up early today. Thought I'd see how you're doing.”

I'm touched by his thoughtfulness. In this strange city, with most of my friends back home by now, Shep has been the one constant. I’m kind of blown away that he has consistently checked in on me, making sure I'm okay. It's making me feel less alone, and I'm unsure how to handle it.

"Actually," I say, surprising myself, "I have a two-hour break between therapy sessions. My therapist said I should move around the facility a bit and get out of this bed. Would you... want to grab a coffee with me on the hospital rooftop? She said there is a decent latte up there.”

Shep's face lights up, and I feel a flutter in my stomach. “I can’t think of a better way to end my day,” he says.

SIX

Shep

---