“When are you going to tell Jack?” I asked, my voice small, scared to death he was going to take it all back and say I had to be his dirty little secret.
“We’ll tell him together.”
My head jerked up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He grinned as his fingers threaded into my hair. “I was thinking of heading up to the rehab place to visit tomorrow; you could come with me. Or we could tell your dad first.” He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Then, he can break my leg and I’ll end up in rehab with Jack anyway.”
I laughed and buried my head into his neck. “So, you aren’t going to take it back?”
“You mean give you back? Never.” He cinched his arms around me, and I breathed him in, still not convinced any of this could be real.
“Not anymore.”
7
Jack
Growing up,I was the opposite of a sports kid. Dylan and I would toss a football in my yard once in a while, but that had been the extent of my physical activity. Dylan ran track in high school, but since I hated running more than I hated our one season of T-Ball, I’d passed.
I’d always wanted to be a firefighter, but I hadn’t fully committed until my senior year of high school. To everyone’s shock, I became a gym rat. I snuck there every spare moment I’d had, even buying weights for our basement so I could lift at home. My family marveled at how, despite my lifetime aversion to exercise, I never stood still. I was compelled to always be doing something to gain strength and endurance. My goal was to ensure I was in the best shape I could be in preparation for the day I’d slip on the turnout gear and onto the truck.
Now, as I waited for my session with Danielle to start, lifting my leg for three sets of ten reps on the table was so damn difficult, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry like a baby. I’d only been at the facility a couple of days, and my leg was recovering from multiple injuries and healing from several surgeries. I stood more easily and could work the crutches much better, but I wasn’t able to walk yet. Keeping an optimistic attitude and not falling into a crippling pity spiral was the most exhausting exercise of all.
“It pleases me when my patients do extra credit,” Danielle noted from behind me. My eyes had clenched shut from the overexertion of lifting my leg a whole five inches, and I hadn’t realized she’d come into the room.
I turned my head to give her a weak smile. “You did say therapy didn’t end with our sessions.”
She clutched her chest with a gasp. “You actually listened to me.” Her mouth tipped up into a smirk before she gingerly lifted my leg. “Another anomaly.”
I forced another smile but didn’t meet her gaze. As my dad said, I was still here. He’d called it a blessing. But each time I attempted to move a leg that didn’t work anymore,cursedran through my mind instead.
“Lift. Give me ten.” Her hand stretched out a good foot above the table, and I loathed how daunting that felt. I used to eat burpees for breakfast and had won so many bets on wall sits and planks at the firehouse, it hadn’t even been a challenge. Now,every goddamn thingwas a challenge. Being grateful was difficult while I was so pissed off I could barely see straight.
Yes, I wasn’t dead, but what life did I have, orwould Ihave? My breaths came short as I fought against the angry tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. The frustration was enough to bear without adding humiliation to it.
“That’s too high,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I can’t. Not yet.”Or maybe ever.
“Lift,” Danielle repeated, ignoring all of what I’d said. “And give me ten.”
I took a sharp breath through my nose, my hands balling into fists at my sides.
Danielle dropped her hand and came closer until her face hovered over mine.
“I know it’s hard. And it’s only going to get harder. But the only one who can help you is you. I’m all in, but for any of this to work, you need to be, too. Take the anger and the resentment you feel right now and channel it into energy. Come back better and stronger. I have every faith that you can. But sulking isn’t getting you back on that truck. Are you pissed off you’re here?”
“Fuck, yes,” I growled and peered up at her raised brow.
“Good. Use that to get out of here. Take it out on me if you’d like. I’m tough, and so are you. So, now that your little moment is over, are you ready to work?”
Her tough little scowl almost made me laugh. “Ten?”
“To start, ten. Three sets.” She walked back to the edge of the table and once again, extended her hand. “Go.”
I raised my leg, still struggling against the stiffness but surprised by the absence of blinding pain. It inched up for what seemed like forever until the top of my foot hit Danielle’s palm.
“Yes! That’s it, Jack. Make leg raises your bitch.”
I burst out laughing. Since the accident, that had happened maybe twice, counting now.
