Then again, I didn’t mind routine. Maybe it was a result of my somewhat chaotic upbringing or my time in the Army, but I functioned best when my life was predictable. Some people might get itchy when all of their days look the same, but to me, there was a comforting familiarity in a rhythm like that.
Since the accident and my impending discharge, nothing about my life had been routine or even familiar. I was living ina city that still felt strange, in a house that wasn’t mine, without a job or even the prospect of one, and worst of all, not even my body felt familiar anymore.
Something fundamental had changed, and with the loss of my leg, I’d also lost who I was, even physically. I never realized how much of my identity was wrapped up in what I could do physically until I couldn’t anymore, and everything had shifted.
The two constants I had left were my roommates, the men I’d spent the last few years of my life with and who weren’t going anywhere, and my PT. How fucking sad was it that I counted PT as something comforting?
And yet, somehow, it had become just that. The drive that had been so stressful at first, navigating into the city and dealing with all the traffic, now brought a certain measure of calm and peace. I had a destination, a goal, and I knew exactly what to expect.
Well, almost exactly. Heath was still the big unknown in this scenario, as I never knew what would come out of his mouth this time. He was unpredictable—yet another reason I disliked him so much. The list was getting long, but they were all good reasons. It wasn’t like it was all in my head, you know. Hewasannoying and too happy and overbearing and an asshole and god knows what else.
He was also taking up a royal amount of real estate in my head, practically living there rent-free, and maybe that pissed me off most of all. For some stupid reason, my brain had decided to become obsessed with him.
It was probably because I had little else to focus on, nothing else my brain could occupy itself with. And so it had latched onto Heath and refused to let go. I’d always been stubborn as a mule.
So naturally, when I walked in—walking being a charitable description here for me crutch-hopping—I immediately checked if Heath had arrived before me. He hadn’t, which sent a wave ofrelief through me. If he was late, I’d at least have a few moments of peace and quiet.
But when Kent started with me and Heath still hadn’t shown up, I got strangely anxious.
I cleared my throat. “Heath not coming in today?”
Kent frowned as he checked his watch. “He should be, but he’s late.”
“Figures.”
I’d mumbled it, but Kent had picked it up anyway, his eyes sharpening. “He’s as punctual as you are, so this is very unlike him.”
I had to admit Heath hadn’t been late for any of his sessions so far. “He hasn’t texted you or whatever?”
“Nope, so I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it.”
He’d barely finished his sentence when Heath came in, flushed and panting. “Sorry for being late. I had car trouble and left my phone in the car when I got on the bus instead, so I couldn’t let you know.”
“No worries,” Kent said. “Glad you made it.”
Funny enough, so was I. Maybe he’d become part of the routine of PT more than I had realized. It wouldn’t be the same without him.
Kent put us to work, and as always, I kept a close eye on Heath to see how he was doing. He was still miles ahead of me in his progress, and I was about to lose hope of ever catching up with him. I’d thought that with my background, I’d be able to surpass him in no time, but apparently, surfing had kept him in great enough shape that he’d bounced back quickly.
I could hardly say that was disappointing, as that would make me truly mean, but it did frustrate me to always see him do exercises I wasn’t allowed to perform yet. Kent had found my instruction manual, so to speak, and he wasn’t afraid to useauthority to get me to listen to him. I hated and respected him for it in equal measure.
I’d just finished a round of walking on my prosthetic with only one crutch to support me when the door to the PT room opened. “Kent, I need your help.”
The woman who’d spoken was one of the other trainers, but I didn’t know her name.
“What’s up?” Kent asked.
“Lisa needed to leave urgently, and her patient needs supervision. Can you leave these two on their own and help?”
Kent shot us a look, then nodded. “Gimme one minute.”
When the woman had left again, he gave us his best drill-sergeant stare. “You two are gonna do your exercises, and you’re gonna play nice. If I have to break up a fight between you or I walk in and find you doing one of your competitive games again, you’re both fired as patients. Am I making myself clear?”
Damn. Dude wasn’t playing today. “Yes, sir.”
Heath sighed, giving me a side-eye. “Yeah. We’ll behave.”
“Good.”
