Page 62 of Revive Me

On that side, he needs help. So, I send an electronic pulse to the pad on his left quad.

Roman’s entire leg jerks forward, his eyes going wide in shock.

“Keep going,” I urge gently.

He presses against the right pedal again, then the left. Again, I send a pulse to his leg when he wavers.

“So fucking weird,” he breathes out, continuing to pedal. But now, he’s staring at the bike in amazement.

I’m absolutely giddy by the time I call an end to our session. Roman did so much better than I let myself hope for, and he did it with barely any motivation from me. He made an insane amount of progress today physically, andhedid it.

I’m mulling over the pros and cons of telling Roman I’m proud of him when I finally notice the shift in him. Because in the time it took me to take the pads off his legs, he’s somehow gone from awed, to that same numb demeanor he started with.

I’m still kneeling on the floor beside the bike, so I settle back on my heels and ask, “What’s wrong?”

His frozen gaze slides to meet mine. “Nothing’s wrong.”

I hum thoughtfully and start to wrap up the cords. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I’d rather you say you don’t want to talk about it. Lying doesn’t help either of us.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says instantly.

My hands slow for a moment, and I think he expects me to push back on him, because I can feel his suspicious gaze on me. But I just shrug and stand up.

“Okay, then. Same time Wednesday? It’ll be a strength day.”

His eyebrows rise. “I— Uh, yeah. Sounds good.”

He pulls his wheelchair over, fidgeting with the seat and with his positioning on the bike. But then he collapses against the backrest with a sigh.

“Are you a hypnotist now, too? What is this, reverse psychology?”

I stop what I’m doing and face him with a grin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says with an eye roll. “I call bullshit. What are you really asking me?”

Immediately, I sit on the floor in front of him. “What are you so scared of?”

“Who says I’m scared of anything?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

Now I’m the one rolling my eyes. “Roman, we’ve been working together for months. At this point, assume I can read your facial expressions.”

He opens his mouth to argue with me, then thinks better of it. Letting out a sigh of defeat, he says, “In that case, I’m assuming you’ve already guessed the answer to your question.”

I shrug. “Maybe. But I want to hear your answer.”

He chews on his bottom lip, contemplating how much he wants to reveal.

“This part is…hard for me,” he finally admits. I nod for him to continue. “I told you this was when I quit. Because it hurt too much to fail at something as basic as walking. And when you made me start gait training again, I only did it because I trusted you. I stillwantedto quit again. Just as much as last time. But…you made me want to try it anyway.”

Fuck. I think I’m gonna cry now.

Sure enough, my eyes fill with tears. It’s not just that the sentiment is what every physical therapist wants to hear, it’s that it’sRomansaying it. Because I know how trying this whole process has been for him. The fact that I’mthe reason he’s working through it is…everything.

I try to be inconspicuous about my sniffle, but Roman sees it anyway. His cheeks pinken the tiniest bit in embarrassment, so to cover it up, he rolls his eyes and murmurs, “Jesus, get it together, Doc.”

I let out a wet laugh. “I can’t help it. That was beautiful.”

He awkwardly rubs at his neck. “Yeah, well, don’t be flattered just yet. I could very well quit again.”

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