Page 14 of Revive Me

My boss assesses him, but after a moment, she says, “In that case, I’d like you to consult during treatment if necessary. For a primary therapist, I need someone…”

She trails off as she looks around the room, her eyes narrowing as she weighs each of our abilities.

And then her gaze stops on me.

“Lily,” she says simply. Evenly.

I can only blink at her, right back to being frozen in shock.

“I’d like you to work with him,” she says, either oblivious to my current state or, knowing her, ignoring it. “His introduction appointment is in an hour. I’ll lead it, set the boundaries and expectations. Then I want you to take over.”

“Why me?”

“Because he needs someone with a backbone, who also won’t take his attitude and negativity personally,” she explains. “I won’t lie to you: he’s in a badplace. Two years later, and he’s still in a wheelchair. He’s been passed around from tough love PTs to hippie wannabe therapists, and he hasn’t responded to any of them. Whatever’s keeping him from progressing, it’s been working overtime for two years. I need you to figure out what it is and break it down.”

My mouth opens, closes, opens again. But no words come out.

My boss nods. “Then it’s settled. Here’s his chart.”

She presses the thickest folder I’ve ever seen into my hands. I’m functioning on autopilot as I take it and immediately open to page one, but there’s a good bit of subconscious curiosity there, too.

My eyes scan over the document, taking in the key details.

…Spinal Cord Injury (SCI) to the T11 vertebrae…

…diagnosed incomplete…

…demonstrates self-limiting behavior and fear avoidance tendencies which may affect his ongoing progress…

…patient shows no interest in speaking with a psychologist…

With every word, my stomach drops more and more. I can’t imagine having to deal with this kind of injury, and knowing it’sRomanmakes it even more incomprehensible. The last time I saw him, he was on top of the world. And now…

Thankfully, my first patient is no stranger to her therapy routine, because I’m only half-focused on her while we work through her exercises. I can’t stop my mind from drifting back to Roman.

Will he remember me? Will he even want me to work with him? Is this a conflict of interest I should be disclosing to my boss?

Nerves have made me chew my bottom lip raw by the time I knock on my boss’s office door. It’s that last question that’s stressed me the most, because I take my job very seriously, and I’m not even sure where the professional boundary is here. We’re told not to treat family or friends, but I’ve seen colleagues treat random acquaintances from their past. Does my one night with Roman two years ago fall under the same category?

Fran waves me in. I open my mouth to say—I don’t even know what. But before I get the chance, she says, “Perfect timing. I was just about to come grab you. We’re going to meet Roman downstairs in the room closest to the back entrance. Apparently, he’s uncomfortable with anyone who isn’t staff seeing him.”

And…that makes the decision for me. The thought of Roman not going out in public fortwo yearsbecause of his injury is something I’m determined to rectify.

“Sounds good,” I choke out, clearing my throat when the words come out hoarse.

I follow silently behind her as we make our way downstairs, my pulse pounding faster and faster with every step. It’s unlikely that this is going to go well.

But even still, a small part of me is looking forward to seeing him.

When we reach the room we use as a makeshift office downstairs, my boss swings the door open and says, “Ah, Mr. Ward. I see our receptionist has already shown you in. It’s nice to see you again.”

Then she steps aside, and I come face to face with Roman for the first time since the night we met.

Only, it’s not the same Roman. The person in front of me is someone entirely different from the man I remember.

It’s not that he’s in a wheelchair. It’s…everything else.

For one thing, he’s covered in tattoos. The baggy t-shirt he’s wearing exposes not only the massive amount of muscle he’s lost, but also the black ink covering both of his arms, reaching all the way down to his hands. I can also see a few peeking out near his collar.

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