She could hear the faint amusement in his voice as he spoke. “If you’re awake enough to think of excuses, you’re awake enough for your therapy.”
She sighed, pushed herself up, and called Margaret to help her get ready.
At the hospital, the pool was her first battlefield. Warm water lapped against her skin as she pushed through it, her legs sluggish, uncooperative. Had she ever thought recovery would be easy? Fast? She now realized the first therapies she had in London had been but a prelude to the grueling work still ahead.
She kicked, stretched, and pulled herself forward, each motion a quiet war between will and weakness. Kai stood by her side, watching, arms crossed, sharp eyes catching every falter, every small triumph.
“Again,” he said when she paused, breathless.
She clenched her jaw and did it again.
The gymnasium smelled of polished wood, sweat, and determination. Esther gritted her teeth as she gripped the parallel bars, her fingers aching from how tightly she held on.
One step.
The muscles in her legs trembled, fire licking up her thighs.
Another.
Her knees buckled. She pitched forward—but Wang was there, always there, catching her, steady hands gripping her waist, her back.
“You fell less this time,” he murmured.
“I still fell.”
“It’s progress.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. Then she tried again.
By the time they arrived home each evening, exhaustion weighed down every inch of her body. She would lie on the chaise, limbs like lead, convinced she could not move for the rest of the night.
And then—Kai’s hands.
Warm, firm, skilled, as they worked the knots from her legs, her back. The sharp sting of his acupuncture needles, the fleeting discomfort that melted into relief. His touch was efficient, practiced—but when she risked glancing at him, she caught something else in his face. Something reverent. Possessive. Or perhaps it was just her wishful thinking.
She closed her eyes and let herself trust it.
Weeks passed. Summer turned into autumn.
She walked ten steps unassisted.
Then twenty.
The day she crossed the length of the gymnasium, she collapsed into Kai’s arms—not from weakness, but from sheer, disbelieving triumph.
She burrowed into him, chest heaving, sweat dampening her brow. And burst into sobs. He held her in silence, his strong arms protecting her from the storm of her own emotions. When she looked up at his face, his expression was unreadable. Then, just for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifted.
She smiled back.
One more step.
Tomorrow, another.
Even if it seemed that for each step she took, he was a step farther away. She couldn’t reach him. But she was determined. She hadn’t finished her therapies. She wasn’t finished with Kai.
She wanted to run to him. Dance with him. Fly with him.
Eachstepshetookwas a step away from him. Wang watched Esther walk away toward the other end ofthe gymnasium. He didn’t need to stand by her side anymore. Her hand hovered over the rail that stretched the length of the room, but she didn’t grab it. She was walking on her own. A little unsteady still, but better than yesterday. Her confidence would grow from there. She had worked relentlessly. With courage and determination. She had gotten better. His little fawn was ready to stretch her legs and run. He couldn’t hold her back.
