Page 16 of Revive Me

“So am I,” he rumbles, his voice so deep I swear I can feel the vibration of his words where our hands are still touching.

It takes me a second, but eventually, I pull my hand back with a tight smile. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, Mr. Ward.”

It isn’t until I’m watching him wheel out of the room that I realize I’m going to be alone in the building with a man who gave me the hottest kiss of my life but who doesn’t even remember my name.

6

ROMAN

Of course, I remembered her.

I would’ve remembered her even if she wasn’t the last woman I was interested in. She looks even better now than she did that night at the bar. Which shouldn’t make sense, because a tiny dress should always beat out hospital scrubs. But it’s not the outfit, it’s…her energy.

The sound of the wheelchair ramp in my mom’s van is a jarring reminder of how wildly different our lives are.

“How was it?” comes my mom’s voice from the driver’s seat. She knows better than to expect a real answer, but she’s still a mom, which means she can’t help asking.

I watch, impatient, as the ramp slowly folds out. “Just like all the others,” I respond, wishing for the millionth time thatthiswasn’t part of my injury. Needing my mother to drive me around like a child.

“When’s your next appointment?” she asks as the ramp finally comes down and I can push myself up and into the van.

“Wednesday at seven,” I answer, clicking my wheels into place in the passenger seat area. Pulling the seatbelt across my chest, I add, “I can grab an Uber if you can’t take me.” Even though the only thing I hate more than having my mom drive me around is having a stranger witness me fumbling with my wheelchair.

She gives me a sad smile, and I know she sees through my façade. “I can take you.”

I look out the window as she pulls out of the parking lot. “Thanks,” I murmur.

She merely pats my arm once to let me know she heard me.

It’s not that I’m an ungrateful bastard. I know exactly how lucky I am to have a mom who loves me enough to have changed her entire life around to orbit me. It’s just that I hate having to ask for help.

“So did they assign you a therapist already, then?”

The reminder of Lily slams me back to reality.

As if my life couldn’t get any worse.

“Yeah, some girl with stars still in her eyes,” I force out. Hoping to shut the rest of the conversation down, I add, “She’s nothing special.”

My mom takes the hint, and we make the rest of the drive home in silence. Which is nice, except for the fact that I’m now stuck in myhead.

Seeing Lily at the clinic was a shock. After two years of countless medical professionals and physical therapists, I’m not sure why I never expected to run into her.

And now, she’s my fuckingtherapist.

I should’ve left as soon as I saw her. God knows there are enough clinics in the Philadelphia area; I could’ve easily found another one. The last person who needs to see me attempting a rehabilitation that’s never going to work is the person I was trying to impress in another life.

I wince at the thought of what she’s going to seenow. It’s not just the embarrassment of my current physique and physical capabilities, it’s also what rehab brings out of me. Because nothing puts me in a worse mood, or makes me a worse person, than physical therapy.

And now, all of that is going to be aimed at Lily.

Goddamnit. I should’ve left that appointment. I have no idea why I didn’t.

I’m just starting to mentally debate if I should call the clinic to cancel when we arrive back at my house. My mom pulls into the driveway, then shoots me a look that readsneed help?

I shake my head, already working on unlocking my chair. “I’m good. Thanks for driving me. I’m just going to make some food and then call it a night.”

“Alright, honey.” She leans over to press a quick kiss to my cheek. “Goodnight. Call me if you need anything.”

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