Charli ran me through my rehab, some for my shoulder, some back, some both, by the end my abs felt like they were being wound tighter than a clock spring. She kept up a stream of chatter, like she always did.
She asked about Joey and Andi, how they were adjusting, and how they were doing at school. She said, “I can’t believe you’re doing all this on your own,” and there was this undercurrent in her voice like she genuinely admired me. I’d been noticing most people looked at single dads with a mix of pity and incredulity, as if a man raising children, was a modern-day miracle. It was odd to me, maybe because I grew up with a single dad, although he hadn’t done a lot of parenting, per se.
“Do they ever talk about their mom or grandma?” she asked, her tone casual but a touch slower than before.
“Not to me.” I’d heard them talking to Billie about their mom a few times. They told her that she didn’t like cooking and that she said they could get a dog.
“As long as they’re talking to someone.”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“Okay, we’re done. Torture is over.”
I stepped out of the pool, and she handed me a towel. As I dried off, I noticed her eyes scanning my chest, but she quickly looked down at her iPad.
“Good session today. Seriously, Adam. If you keep progressing like this, you’ll be back to full function in six months. Maybe less if you stop lying to me about your pain scale.”
I grinned as the door to the pool opened and Dr. Fields came in with a patient. I had to look down at the ground to hide my secondhand embarrassment at the other patient’s reaction when he saw Charli. It was endlessly entertaining watching any new patient when they did a cartoon double-take, with awooga eyes, at my physical therapist. It was like seeing theirSports Illustratedsubscription come to life. Men weren’t the only ones captivated by her. I’d seen women bring in theirVoguecatalogues, which she’d graced the covers of, for her to sign.
This guy was standing there, jaw open, practically drooling. Dr. Fields cleared his throat to get the man’s attention. Charli either ignored it or didn’t notice the man gawking. If I had to guess, I would say the latter, or maybe she did notice. She’d probably had to deal with it her entire life. She was one of the most attractive women in the world, she’d made lists and been ranked. I was sure every person she met had some sort of reaction to her beauty.
After the pool session, I showered off quickly and dressed, noticing how my lower back throbbed as I pulled on my socks. Nothing made you feel eighty-five, like a day at the sports rehab. By the time I came out Charli had already vanished—she did not linger—but as I waited for the elevator, I caught a flash of her in the mirrored security glass, ponytail up, shoulders squared, iPad tucked beneath her arm as she glided down the clinical hallway with the confidence of a surgeon and the stride of a runway model. I almost called something after her, some joke about thepain scale, but the elevator doors closed and reflected only my own tired face, my eyebrows already knitting together with the kind of worry I usually tried to smother.
I hit the lobby and checked my phone to see that my Uber was still six minutes away, which was a lifetime in post-therapy limbo. I headed outside to wait.
I was gingerly making my way to the curb when I passed a woman in a powder blue trench coat. She was short and curvy with a glossy blonde ponytail and a farmers market canvas tote slung over her shoulder. She paused, did a double take, then gave me a bright, appraising smile.
“It’s Adam, right? Adam Knight?”
I blinked. “Yeah.”
She put out her hand with brisk efficiency. “Sadie Vaughn. I think we have some mutual friends.”
Sadie Vaughn—that sounded familiar.
“I’m Alex’s wife.”
“Right.”
Alex Vaughn, Maddox’s foster brother who, extreme makeover’d my home. I remembered him mentioning his wife Sadie several times that day.
“And I own Sweet Temptations bakery across from Bliss Bridal. Birdie told me you grew up next door to her and you stepped in when her model bailed.”
I nodded, remembering how stunning Billie looked in those dresses.
“Are you here for Charli?” she asked, lowering her voice as if she were planning a surprise party.
I hesitated a half-beat. “I just came from an appointment.”
Sadie’s eyes narrowed, not in a mean way, but like she was triangulating something. “You know, she almost never talks about her patients, privacy and all that, but she talked about you.Nothing about your condition, no HIPAA violations. But your name came up?—”
“My name came up?”
“She didn’t bring it up.”
“Someone else brought my name up?” This conversation was getting more confusing by the second.
“A rich, single dad, Navy SEAL, who looks like you moves back to town after two decades…” Her voice trailed off.
