Gabe feared she had as much emotional trauma associated with her accident as she did physical trauma. "Does your current identity crisis have something to do with your accident and your limited mobility?"
Paige studied her hands for a moment, then she raised her gaze to the ceiling.
He spotted the sheen of tears in her eyes before she blinked them away. When he said he was a good listener, he didn't expect to have to employ that talent so soon. He waited, giving her ample opportunity to answer his question.
When she lowered her gaze again, she pinned him with a hard stare. "Have you ever found yourself in a situation you never thought you'd be in?"
Memories from the darkest times in Gabe's life flooded his mind, intermingling until he couldn't separate the events and the pain they'd caused him; his mom crying at the breakfast table because his dad didn't come home last night; watching her battle breast cancer a short time later; his sister's rebellion and unexpected pregnancy; Harper's mother handing him a handwritten note on pink paper while he stood in front of a chapel full of people.
"More times than I care to count," he said.
"No, I mean a situation that is…morally wrong. One you'd never intentionally choose to be in.”
He hadn’t made the morally gray choices that some of his loved ones did, but they’d affected his life nonetheless.
“Yes, unfortunately.” His answer was barely audible.
"Well, I hadn't." She lowered her gaze to her hands again. "Not until two months ago. It has left me questioning all my life choices."
He'd been there, done that. For years.
Each time the bottom fell out of his world, he’d spent months questioning every choice he'd ever made. Was it his fault his father left? If he'd been more obedient would his dad have stayed? If he'd played baseball like his dad, instead of wrestling, would his father have come to his games? And if he hadn't been so focused on getting into PT school, would he have been able to give Harper the attention she needed?
Instead of letting the disappointments derail his life, he'd become more intentional about everything he did. More focused. More dedicated. More cautious.
Gabe couldn't help wondering what situation Paige found herself in that caused such introspection. What happened prior to her accident to make her question every aspect of her life? He remained quiet for a moment, waiting to see if she’d say more, but she reined in her emotions and shot him an apologetic look before staring at the floor again.
"Questioning all your life choices at once is rarely a good idea." He kept his tone light. "How about we take life one day at a time. We'll set small, achievable goals and before long, I'm sure you'll find things have worked themselves out."
They had for him, but it had taken a lot of hard work. Okay, so he was still waiting for some things to work out. But he knew he wasn't responsible for his dad's desertion, and he didn't need his father's approval to be successful. And deep down, he knew it wasn't his fault Harper left him at the altar only to elope with his best friend two weeks later.
Paige's gaze met his, and her lips lifted in what looked like a forced smile. "You're right. My mom keeps reminding me everything happens for a reason. I know I brought this on myself with my own dumb actions…" She made a sweeping motion with her hand, motioning to her body. "Now, I need to make sure I learn the lesson God wants me to learn."
Did I learn the lessons God wanted me to learn?
“Don't pushyour right shoulder farther than is comfortable,” Dr. Rivera’s gentle voice reminded Paige of her father, who was well known for his excellent bedside manner.
After heating her back, hip, and shoulder, Dr. Rivera had her do a series of gentle stretches, leading into exercises that required more movement. Paige now sat in a chair slowly rolling a large pink yoga ball away from her body with her hands, then back in again. She winced every time she reached the limit of her ability in both her right arm and low back.
It was such a simple stretch, but it pulled at muscles she'd used very little over the past two months. Everything the good-looking therapist with killer eyelashes had asked her to do so far—pelvic tilts, clamshells, using a pulley to lift her injured arm—had been easy. Well, they used to be before her accident. Now, even the slightest activity exhausted her.
"Breathe in when you come upright, then slowly let out all the air as you sink into the stretch. Just until it becomes uncomfortable. The point is not to cause more pain.” He stood nearby, making Paige self-conscious of her every move.
She was the only patient in the whole office, so she had his undivided attention. Even Luke had his head down in what looked like a large textbook.
Dr. Rivera—Just Gabe, Paige corrected herself—was a lot better looking than Agnes, the full-figured, middle-aged therapist she'd worked with at the rehab center. Paige had repeatedly found herselfdistracted by the three long hairs sticking out of the mole on Agnes' chin. Now, she found herself jealous of her therapist's eyelashes.
It should be illegal for men to have eyelashes that thick and long.
She couldn't believe how young Dr. Rivera was. He was probably older than he looked, which was late twenties, but he sure didn’t look it. He also had a great sense of style. His charcoal gray slacks hugged his trim waist and muscular thighs in an attractive way. And his light blue button-down shirt not only accentuated the muscles in his broad shoulders, it also provided a striking contrast to his dark hair. His Star Wars socks sporting Yoda's face stood out from the business casual ensemble.
She couldn't help letting her gaze drift to his left hand. No ring.
Is he single? Or is he one of those men who doesn't bother to wear a ring?
Her thoughts turned to Phillip.Did he wear a ring now that he was married? Or did he have another woman on the side already?
Nope. Not going there.
