Page 8 of Room 1017

“No, it’s just… No.”

I knew what pain looked like, in all its forms, even when people were trying their hardest to disguise it, so I believed him when he said he wasn’t hurt. This was something else, something personal.

“Should we try again?” I asked, and he nodded, looking almost eager to try. I slid my arm in behind his shoulders and gave him a little help, but he managed to do most of the work himself. “Great! Do you mind if I untuck your blanket for you? Someone really seems to have done a number on you.”

He laughed lightly, making my insides tingle at the hard-won sound. “Yeah, the night nurse is an eager one.” I filed away that his night nurse had done this, which meant he hadn’t gotten out of bed since last night.

When I flipped back the blanket at the end of the bed, I froze, a genuine smile stretching my lips. “Nice socks,” I said. I’d come face to face with a pair of hot-pink socks that were so fuzzy, there was no way they would fit into a pair of shoes.

Peter’s blush was almost the same shade. “Yeah, uh, my partner brought them for me, to cheer me up or whatever.”

My smile dimmed before I could even register why. I cleared my throat. “That was nice of them.” Why did it matter if he was single or not? It didn’t. So instead, I reached for his feet. “Any pain down here?” I asked, and he shook his head. “Good, then let’s get started.”

Carefully, we got Peter situated at the edge of his bed, his feet on the floor, then I wheeled the walker over in front of him and helped him up to standing. “How about a trip across the room and back,” I suggested, and after looking skeptically over at his destination, he nodded warily.

I followed behind him in case he fell. Although he was shaky enough that it was like watching a newborn colt take its first steps, he seemed stable enough. The pain he was in must’ve been awful, though. He kept his feet low to the ground, shuffling across the linoleum, and his limbs shook with the effort. His hands were white-knuckled on the grips, and by the time we got across the room, he was already sweating. I swore I could hear his teeth grinding. He was a tough one, I had to give him that.

“Do you need a break?” I asked as we began the turn back to bed.

“N-No, I’ve got this,” he grunted. As tough as he was, the closer we got to his bed, the more labored his breathing became, and his vocabulary descended intofuckandshitand ashit-fuckcombo.

“Just two more steps,” I encouraged, but he staggered. He wasn’t going to make it.

With a practiced move, I stepped right into his side, an arm around his waist, and controlled his fall, pivoting his body with mine until we both landed on the edge of the bed.

Peter panted, his shirt damp with sweat beneath where my palm still sat on his waist. “Thanks,” he huffed. He was so close,tooclose, and yet I found myself tempted to lean in.

“No problem. It’s my job,” I said, forcing myself to remove my hands from his body, and I stood up, putting some distance between us. “So, that was a piece of cake, right?” I teased, winking.

Another chuckle, and he shook his head, his hair flopping forward into his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but… I kinda miss the wheelchair.”

“Aw, c’mon. Are you telling me you would rather someone push you around, when you’re lucky enough to have an alternative?”

He seemed to ponder those words seriously. “Maybe not,” he finally agreed. I could see his alpha stubbornness under the surface. I already knew he was going to be a tough nut to crack. I did love a challenge.

“Okay, so let’s make an appointment for you to come down to the clinic on Monday. We’ll run through some gentle stretches and some easy movement to get you started. How does that sound?”

Peter hesitated, staring down into his lap. He was exhausted, likely feeling dejected right about now. I sat down in the walker’s seat and rolled myself over until our knees were nearly touching. “Peter… I can only imagine what you’ve been through, and I hate to tell you that you have a tough road ahead of you. I need you to be patient, okay? No matter how frustrating and impossible it might feel right now. This is not the end, remember that. It is a beginning to something great.”

He slowly brought his eyes up to mine, and they were glassy with unshed tears. I knew to keep my hands to myself except under a professional setting, but he looked so broken, so hollow, that I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to offer him some kind of… lifeline. I set my hand on his knee and squeezed gently. “You’re going to be okay. I’ll help you get there, I just need you to trust me.”

He slid his hand over until it was on top of mine, and we hovered there in this moment, somewhere outside of therapist and patient, outside of pain and rehab.

“Knock, knock,” a feminine voice called, and Peter jolted under my hand. I drew back quickly and stood, guilt and confusion making my skin flush.

Peter looked over his shoulder at the beautiful brunette stepping into the room. “Casey, this is my partner, Amy. Amy, this is my new physical therapist, Casey.”

Her smile was so bright and perfect, but instead of making me beam in return, I felt the urge to retreat. “Uh, yeah, nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand quickly. She had soft hands, a firm grip—and I dropped her hand as quickly as I could. “Sorry, I have another patient to see. I guess I’ll see you next week, Peter?”

He seemed confused by my sudden icy demeanor as I inched toward the door, unable to make eye contact with him. Well, get in line, Peter, because I was confused too. “Uh, yeah,” he said, waving. “I guess.”

I should’ve stayed to help him get back into bed. At the very least, I should’ve remembered to leave him one of my cards. Instead, I fled, terrified that I’d already broken my number one rule—don’t get attached.

5

Peter

Dr.Kwanstoppedbyfirst thing in the morning, as promised. After checking my vitals and taking a look at my incision, he gave me the all-clear. I was finally going home.

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