Nick wanted to roll his eyes at the we, but beat down his inner asshole. Maisie Rawls was an annoyingly-positive person, but she was also the best physical therapist in the hospital, and so Nick was willing to put up with her perkiness, no matter how much he wanted her ponytail to stop fucking bouncing at him.
He finished thirty, glanced up at her. She nodded again, so he carried on. He managed to do fifty on each side before the burn in his left oblique made him stop.
“Good,” she said, making a note. “Now, I want you to get up and come over here to the bars.”
This was what Nick had been both dreading and looking forward to, and his chest tightened, just for a second. He loved the thought of ‘walking’ – or at least moving in a forward direction – on his own steam, though he was sure it’d be more like lifting himself and awkwardly hopping on one leg. He was confident that his upper body could handle the strain of holding himself up, but for the first time in his entire life, he was worried about his balance. The thought that he might go crashing down to the floor in front of Mia horrified him.
He shot her a quick look now, met her gaze, held it. Her golden eyes were a bit alarmed, but she managed a smile at him.
“You doing OK?” she asked him softly.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Really?”
“I promise you, angel. I’m alright.” The corner of his mouth quirked up at her, but his eyes were watchful, gauging her every motion and emotion. “You hanging in there?”
“You know it, gorgeous.”
Nick smiled now, like smiled for real, and accepted Maisie’s extended hand. Carefully, he scrambled to his right knee, then got his foot and free hand under him. He let her tug him up, and Maisie grasped him under his elbows, holding him steady until his wobbling and hopping stopped.
Nick breathed out, relieved that he hadn’t landed on his ass. Maisie’s grip was surprisingly strong, but then again, the woman was almost as tall as he was, and she was all shoulders and hips and thighs. She’d told Nick that she’d played semi-pro rugby a few years earlier, and he’d blinked at that, but then he’d considered her physique. Yeah, she looked like she’d more than hold her own in a scrum – and Nick meant a scrum with guys his size. He was damn sure that Maisie could take them down.
“OK,” Maisie said, still holding his elbows in a death-grip. “Over here, Nick.”
Feeling incredibly graceless, he hopped to the parallel bars, and when he reached them, he grabbed them gratefully. He leaned on them hard, let almost his full weight rest on his forearms as he let himself just relax for a few seconds.
“Alright.” Maisie stood between the bars facing him, just two feet in front of him. “When you’re ready, I want you to lean forward on your hands as you take a step, then swing your left leg as if you were walking. Got it?”
“Yeah. Got it.”
Mia watched with her heart in her throat as Nick took his first solo ‘steps’. His face was set in fierce concentration and his gray eyes were fixed on the floor. She was shocked when his muscled arms began to tremble slightly and he had to stop and take a break. He hung his head, closed his eyes, and her heart ached for him in his vulnerability.
He hadn’t uttered one word of complaint in the fifty-plus minutes of this first day of physio, but she knew that he was finding all of this hard going. His physical strength was astonishing and even the loss of his leg hadn’t changed that – but he was tiring quickly.
She held her breath, dug her nails into her palm, hoped hard that he didn’t stumble or fall in front of her. She knew he’d feel so embarrassed about that, though he’d have no reason to feel that way. He’d see it as weakness, though, and he hated to look weak. Ever.
“Nick?” Maisie said. “You doing alright? You need to sit down?”
Right away, his head came up. “No. I want to walk the whole length of the bars.”
“Alright.” Maisie sounded as breezy as ever, but Mia saw the tension in her back as she held herself ready to catch Nick if she had to. “Whenever you’re ready, carry on.”
He nodded, slid his hands along the bars, moved forward. Again. Again. Again. Slowly and steadily, step by step, until he reached the end of the raised platform. That was when he slumped once more, chest heaving.
“OK?” Maisie asked, still not moving away.
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “Why is it so goddamn difficult?”
“Because your body has had one hell of a shock,” Maisie said gently. “You had major surgery just two days ago, Nick, and it sapped your reserves, big-time. But I’ve been doing this for a long time now and I can tell you this: you’ll be amazed at how quickly you recover.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. I figure in two days, you’ll do these stretches and sit-ups and hop-walking these bars without batting an eyelash, let alone losing your breath.”
“Really?” Now it was Mia who asked, and they both turned to her. “So fast?”
“Yes.” Maisie smiled at Mia, then turned back to Nick. “You’re in astounding physical shape, Nick, better than about ninety-nine point nine percent of the population. Your years of pro karate, your years of working out daily, your years of weight training and aerobic activity… none of that has gone anywhere. You just need to get some more rest and learn how to use your body in new ways. That’s all.”
“All, huh?” Nick said, trying not to sound bitter.
“Yes,” Maisie said, not backing down even one inch. “In terms of the physical, that’s all. I don’t expect you to really understand or appreciate that, but I do expect you to believe me when I say that you’re way, way out of the starting gate compared to my other clients. Most of them have nothing like your athletic background or physical strength and stamina… and believe me when I say that it’s going to serve you well in your recovery.” She paused. “No, Nick, your major struggle and challenge isn’t going to be physical. I think you’ll figure out the prosthetic soon enough, and you’ll have the strength to handle the changes to your balance and movements.”
“So… you’re talking about his emotional recovery now,” Mia said. It wasn’t a question.
“I am.” Maisie shifted her weight on her feet. “There’s a group that I can recommend to you, Nick. I think you should consider joining.”
“A group of amputees?” Nick asked, stumbling over the last word. God, he hated to think of himself that way, though he supposed that he’d better get used to it.
“Yes,” Maisie said. “All men. I’ve worked with many of them, and I know the guy who leads it, though he’s never been my client. His name’s Luke, and he lost a hand while defusing a bomb Afghanistan.”
Nick perked up. “Luke? Luke Rhodes?”
Maisie was startled. “Yeah. You know him?”
“Sure do. He kick-boxes at The Rock. Takes down most guys who are dumb enough to get in the ring opposite him, too.” Nick thought for a few seconds. “He’s mentioned a support group a few times, but he’s never gone into any detail about it.”
“It’s a small world, huh?” Maisie commented. “OK, well then. If you know Luke, then maybe you know that when he came back stateside, he had a damn hard time adjusting and coping with things, and he started the group to support other ex-military guys who’d lost limbs in battle. Now the group accepts any man who’s lost a limb under any circumstances. Some of the guys have lost limbs in car accidents, some are ex-fire fighters or cops who lost limbs at work, though most of the group members are ex-military. Luke’s earned a great reputation among our wounded soldiers, and the word’s gotten around about him and the support group.”
Nick and Mia nodded.
“I think you should think about joining,” Maisie said. “You’re going to need someone to talk to.”
Quickly, Nick looked at Mia, wondering if she was offended by Maisie’s words. After all, Maisie was basically saying that t
alking to Mia wasn’t going to be enough for him, that he’d need more. But to his huge relief, Mia was looking thoughtful, not hurt.
“It sounds great,” Mia said. “Can Nick just show up?”
“No.” Maisie shook her head. “He needs to call Luke and talk to him first, tell him everything he needs to know. No holding back and no secrets. But if you know him from the gym, then I guess he already knows about your surgery?”
“No,” Nick said quietly. “No, I didn’t tell anyone at work except Adam, Mitch and Gavin, The Rock’s manager. No clients.”
“I see.” Maisie’s bright green eyes were gentle. “OK, then, you need to call Luke and talk to him. You got his number?”
“It’s at the gym. Can you give it to me today?”
“Sure. I’ll sms it to you once we wrap up here, OK?”
“Thanks.” Nick stretched his shoulders, glanced at the clock. “We got much more to do?”
“Nope. Some cool-down stretches, and then you’re free to go for lunch.”
“Oh, awesome,” Nick said with a decided lack of enthusiasm. “Hospital lunch.”
Mia giggled. “Your parents went out and got you something. Your Mom said they’d be back by now and they’d be in your room waiting with your food.”
“Yeah?” He looked hopeful. “A burger?”
“No idea. Your Dad just said that it was one of your top five favorite foods.”
“Ummmm.” Nick considered. “Must be a burger. I’m a simple kind of guy, you know. If they wanted to go all fancy, they maybe got me a cheeseburger.”
“We’ll see soon enough,” Mia said, her eyes dancing at his good humor. “So I’ll go sit down, get out of the way, while you guys finish up. Yeah?”
“Thanks,” Maisie said, snapping right on back into professional mode. “OK, Nick, back to the mat. We’ll stretch it out, then we’ll decide what time to meet tomorrow. Yes?”
Nick took a deep breath, prepared himself for the stupidly-humiliating hop back over to the floor mats. Until this exact moment, he’d avoided thinking too much about the prosthetic, since he’d considered it an almost-alien thing. Something that wasn’t his body, and didn’t belong on his body, and wouldn’t do anything but remind him that his body was so different.
Now, though, he was starting to see the prosthetic as something else. As a tool, maybe, or an instrument. Something that would actually help him in ways that he was just starting to see and admit that he needed help with.
Standing. Balancing. Washing dishes at a sink. Walking into a store to go shopping. Walking over to Mia and holding her close.
How could he walk across a room and take Mia in his arms for a kiss without a prosthetic? The thought of hopping over to her filled him with soul-crushing mortification. He wanted to stride over to her; he wanted to approach her with nothing but strength and confidence; he wanted to take her in to his arms, just take her in to his bed. Take her until she cried out his name with all the heat and passion that he’d come to expect from the woman that he loved with all his heart.
As Nick hopped back over to the mats, he made a mental note to ask his doctor about his first prosthetic fitting. It was scheduled for three weeks from then, but he wanted to move that up, if he could.
Anything to get back on his feet again.
Both feet.
Chapter Five
Katie clutched Adam’s hand in both of hers, not even noticing that her short nails were cutting into his skin. To his credit, he didn’t even flinch and he never said a word; it was Katie who noticed what she was doing and with a small gasp, she loosened her grip.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring at the blood oozing out of the perfect crescent cuts. “Oh, God, Adam. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Don’t worry about it.”
Despite his reassuring words, she had to speak, to try to make this all alright.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, helplessly. “And I don’t just mean for this.” She traced her fingertips over the nail marks. “I mean – I mean for all of it.”
“I know.” Adam smoothed her hair back, his hand steady and calming. “It’s OK. It’s all OK.”
She bit her lip and nodded, but in her mind, she was back in their kitchen three hours earlier. That was where and when she’d finally gathered up the courage to tell Adam about this doctor’s appointment, and about how she’d gotten tested secretly. He’d been furious… like knock-down, drop-dead, beside-himself furious.
“How could you?” he’d hollered. “How could you do this without telling me? How could you not let me be there for you? Christ, Katie, I have to hold your hand every time you go to the gynecologist for a routine appointment… how could you even think about doing something like this without me standing next to you?”
“I was fine on my own,” she’d muttered, feebly trying to defend the indefensible. She’d also been lying through her goddamn teeth, since the truth was that she’d had three glasses of wine before being able to submit to the internal exam and the testing. “You’ve been so busy lately, covering for Nick at work and being there for him… I just didn’t want to add any pressure.”
“Pressure!” Adam had roared. “Pressure! You’re the woman that I love, Katie, and being there when you need me isn’t fucking pressure. It’s being there for the woman that I gave my whole damn life to!”
“I know.” Tears had sprung to her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just – I was so afraid of disappointing you.”
That had stopped him, and he’d stood there staring at her, his blue eyes so dark and hard.
“Disappointing me?” he’d said at last, his voice a low growl. “You think you’d ever do that?”
Katie had looked away, unable to meet his glare anymore, and he’d snapped at her.
“Look at me when we’re having this conversation, baby.” She’d never heard him so angry, and her heart stopped in fear that she’d really done it, that she’d lost him for good this time. “Eyes right fucking here.”
Defeated and afraid, she had looked up at him, waited for the words that she knew now that on some level, she’d been waiting for for a while.
I made a mistake, Katie. You’re not the one. I don’t love you.
But of course, Adam hadn’t said any of that – despite his command to carry on the conversation, he hadn’t said one more word, actually. Instead, he’d opened his arms to her and she’d stumbled forward and in to them. He’d held her as she’d cried, his lips in her hair, and not said anything at all until she’d calmed. Then he’d held her away from him, searching her face for something that she didn’t understand and that she wasn’t sure if he found or not.
“OK, baby?” he’d said gruffly. “Back with me now?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He’d kissed her so tenderly then, kissed away the salty tears from her lips. “Now. Go get ready for the doctor’s appointment.”
So. Now here they sat. In an office with framed pictures of the world’s most beautiful, perfect, amazing babies staring at them. Their little faces felt like a judgment and a broken promise and a dying dream, all rolled into one.
The door opened and they both jumped to attention as Alicia Reed walked in, her long blonde hair swinging and swishing like a shampoo ad. The fact that the woman looked like this and was also a fertility specialist and had two adorable blond children made Katie feel like such a total failure as a woman and a human being, she wanted to run screaming from the room.
She didn’t, though. She just sat in the damn chair, clinging to Adam’s hand again, and tried to breathe.
“Hello,” Alicia said to Adam, her voice somehow sweet and sexy at the same time. “You must be Adam.”
Adam extended his hand to her. “Yes. Good to meet you, Doctor Reed.”
“Alicia, please.” She set down a folder thick with pa
pers on her desk. That folder had all the answers that Katie longed for, all the information that was going to change her life for good, and she almost lunged at it.
“Alicia,” Adam repeated, sitting back in his chair.
“Hi, Katie,” Alicia said gently. “You doing alright?”
Katie shrugged, trying hard to look cool and casual. Like she didn’t care either way just what the hell that folder with her name on it contained. “Uh-huh.”
“OK.” Alicia’s baby-blue eyes settled on Katie’s strained face, took in her rigid posture, saw the nail marks on Adam’s hands, but she said nothing. “So. I have your test results.”
Katie and Adam both nodded. Held their breath.
“I’m sorry to say that you will definitely have some challenges getting pregnant, Katie. Maybe some serious ones.”
Katie went totally still and silent. She just turned to a stone statue right there in the chair. Suddenly, she had no blood, no warmth, no feelings. She was hollow and empty. Endless vacant space.
Barren.
It’s all my fault. I knew it.
“What kind of challenges?” Adam asked, trying to keep his tone level despite his shock. “Challenges caused by what?”
“Katie, you have some very thick scarring on the walls of your uterus. A bit of scarring isn’t terribly unusual, but this amount… well. It can make pregnancy difficult.” Alicia tilted her head at Katie, trying to gauge her thoughts, but Katie was as emotionless as a gray brick wall. “It means that even if you got pregnant, carrying the baby to term might be dangerous. For you and the baby.”
“I see.” Katie’s voice was so flat, Adam’s stomach clenched up. “Where did the scarring come from?”
“Katie.” Alicia paused. She’d been in this situation too many times before in her two-decades-long career, and this part never got any easier. “On your paperwork, you answered a question that I now need more information about.”
“Alright,” Katie managed to choke out. “Which question?”
“You wrote that you experienced some abuse in childhood.” Alicia hesitated. “Sexual abuse.”
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