“That’s a little unorthodox, but you tend to be a little unorthodox. It doesn’t surprise me that your patients might feel the same way.” Aspen reasoned.
“Then today while we were at our latest appointment, he almost kissed me.” I closed my eyes. “And I almost let him.”
“I see.” She didn’t say anything more, so I opened my eyes. “Do I even have to say it?”
“I know, I know.” I stood up and walked around her office. “I should have transferred him to a different therapist the minute I realized I was attracted to him.”
“Why didn’t you?” She asked.
It was a good question. It was also one that I had asked myself repeatedly over the last week, and I toyed with seeing if Aspen could take Stewart or not.
It was so silly, but there was a part of me that wanted to be the one that helped him. I wanted to get him to open up and help him get back to his life before the accident. I understood better than most how one moment could change everything. How life could easily be divided between what is and what was. I wanted to know the before version Stewart. I wanted to be the one that helped him find his way back to that man. It was selfish andcompletely wrong, but I couldn’t help how I felt. Over the last few days, it seemed to grow more and more important that it was me.
Was this how he felt about being the one that cared for his unit? If so, how did he function? There was no way you could put this much of yourself into everyone that you cared for. We’d never be able to do our jobs.
“It isn’t important.” I skated Aspen’s question. “I guess right now I need to figure out where we go from here.”
“There is nowhere do you go from here.” She pointed out. “You transfer him to a different therapist and you keep your distance.” She opened the notebook sitting on her desk. “I have an opening next week if you want me to take over.”
It was the right thing to do. The simple thing to do. “Let me think about it.”
“Rita, you’re walking a very dangerous line.” She cautioned me.
“I know.” She was right. There was no way I should see Stewart again, but I was having a hard time imagining not seeing him smile once more. I knew I’d miss that dimple. And his touch. I would miss the gentleness of his touch.
“I’ve got to go.” I headed for her door.
“Rita.”
“Keep that space open, and I will let you know.” I told her. “Thanks for the chat.”
“Be careful.” She called out as I let the door close.
I was scared it was already a little too late for that.
I pushed the leg press up with a grunt. “Three more.”
“Nate, I swear I will gut you if you make me do three more.” I threatened my physical therapist.
“You forget I trained in hand-to-hand combat.” He laughed. “Now give me three more.”
I lowered the press and pushed it back up. “You are the reason I spend half my paycheck buying bath salts.” I pushed the press up one more time.
“I’m also the reason you don’t walk with a limp.” He didn’t let up.
I so wanted to curse him, but he wasn’t wrong. Nate had gotten me through one of the most horrific moments of my life. We’d both been college students back then. Full of life and excitement and the delusional belief that nothing could ever go wrong. That was when psychology had been a back-up plan for when I’d finished playing pro ball. One instant changed all that.
“I heard you were back on the court the other day.” He leaned on the side of the machine as I finished off the last of his leg presses.
“I take patients out on the court a lot of times.” I sat up.
“Yeah, but I heard you were kicking some guy’s ass.” He laughed.
“If you aren’t careful, I’m going to kick your ass in a second.” I stood back up. Sweat damp on my skin and reached for my water bottle. “I also spent the rest of the day passed out on my couch thanks to your workouts.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to help.” He held his arms wide. “There is always the other option.”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “That is a last resort, and you know it.” I’d had enough surgery to last a lifetime.
