Page 19 of Room 1017

I barely remembered getting home. I had to get down on my knees to fish the spare key out of the lockbox tucked in a corner of my porch, but I soon found myself standing in my kitchen, holding the bottle of painkillers in a shaking hand. “I’m too weak,” I whispered into the silence of my empty house. And not just my body…

I shook a few pills into my palm, staring down at the innocuous little tablets. Yes, I was in pain, and these would bring some relief, but in the end, they also felt like a symbol for all my failures. I was too weak to handle a little bit of pain, too selfish to choose sobriety. All the emotions swirling through me just made me want the pills even more so I could forget. I was locked in this awful cycle with no way out.

My hip gave another spasm, and I jerked, dropping the pills. “Fuck,” I cursed, reflexively reaching to catch them. My balance tipping, I dropped to my knees hard, the hard tile sending a jolt through me. Groaning, I lay down on the floor because it was easier than trying to get back up. My eyes burned, and a broken sob wrenched its way out of me. Hot tears of frustration dripped down my cheek and onto the floor, tears of hopelessness, self-pity, and depression. At least I still had my pills…

I picked one up off the floor and swallowed it dry, the tablet’s bitter taste lingering on my tongue. And now my tears burned with regret.

12

Casey

Myinsidesweresquirmingwith regret. I never should’ve let my feelings for Peter get in the way of his treatment. Cliff was right; I had no clue what I was doing, and things never should’ve gotten this far. It was so unprofessional of me. Peter was my patient. Besides the fact that he deserved better, I could get fired!

Shit, I almost kissed him. I really,reallywanted to. And maybe that was the greatest regret of all. Not that I had gotten too attached or that I was going to get my heart broken, but because I never had the chance to kiss him just once, and now I would have to turn him over to one of the other PTs. I certainly couldn’t be the one to continue his care.

I hadn’t meant to be rude to him. After I fled to my office, I took a few minutes to think it through, and I realized Peter deserved an explanation for my behavior. When I went to look for him, though, he wasn’t in the changeroom. His bag and all his clothes were still in his locker, and when I looked outside, his truck was still in the parking lot.

Where the hell is he?

When I tried calling his cell, it rang in his locker, of course. Why the hell would he have left everything here?

That was when I started to get really worried. I headed toward reception. “Hey, Tammy, have you seen Peter?”

She looked up from the computer. “Yeah, he left about 15 minutes ago. I called him a ride.”

“Thanks, Tammy…” I muttered, turning away and heading back to my office. He must’ve left straight away, without even bothering to shower or grab his stuff. Was he feeling worse than he let on?

I sat down at my desk and tried to focus on updating some case files. If he wanted to be alone, then I had to respect that. There was supposed to be a barrier between us, but my brain kept going right back to Peter, the way he clung to me after he fell off the bike. To the way his body melted into mine as I massaged the cramp and took away his pain.

Cursing, I gave up trying to distract myself and shoved back from my desk. “I’ll be back,” I called to Cliff on the way out.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“I hope so.” I waved and jogged out to the parking lot, carrying Peter’s bag over my shoulder. I needed the excuse to stop by his house, after all. I pulled his keys out of his bag, deciding to drive his truck home for him instead. I would take a cab back later.

When I got to his house, my adrenaline had already kicked in. This felt like déjà vu of when I showed up the first time and he’d taken too many pills and washed them down with whiskey. I really hoped I wasn’t about to walk in on a similar scenario…

I knocked louder on his front door than I meant to, then pressed the doorbell a few times for good measure. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I might’ve heard a voice from inside, but when he didn’t answer the door, I used his key to get inside. “Peter?” I called, sticking my head in.

“I’m here,” he called back from the kitchen. “I… need some help.” That might’ve been the first time I’d heard him admit that.

When I came through the house, I found Peter lying on the floor on his back, surrounded by an array of scattered pills. “Oh, Peter,” I groaned, assessing the situation. I never should’ve walked away from him today, knowing he was upset. This was all my fault.

“I only took one, I swear,” he hurried to say, shaking his head in panic. He wasn’t lying, but I could see it in his eyes—he’dwantedto take more. “I just… fell and figured I would take a rest before I tried to get up.”

I stared down at him, hands on my hips. “You’re stuck down there, aren’t you.”

He blew out a defeated sigh. “Yeah,” he admitted with a grimace. “My whole body locked up after that workout.”

“Come on, then. Let’s get you up.” I crouched down at his side, trying to find the best way to get him to standing. “You know, if you’d stuck around, I could’ve worked you through a proper cooldown. It’s no wonder you seized up.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me there,” he said softly, before groaning as we worked together to get him into one of the kitchen chairs.

I dropped myself down into the chair next to him. It was past time we needed to have a big talk.

Sighing, I propped an elbow on the table and rubbed at the back of my neck. I didn’t know where to start. “I’m so sorry, Peter, this is all my fault.”

“What? Of course not. You’re the one who told me slips happen. It was just an accident, nobody to blame.”

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