Whatever the reason, Jordan had completely deflated when Kirsten hadn’t arrived. Her team had won the game, but she knew she’d played flat. She’d scored fifteen points and grabbed nine rebounds, but she hadn’t had the spark she’d had the week before. She couldn’t help but realize that the difference between the two games had been Kirsten. Jordan had wanted to impress her, but she wasn’t exactly sure why.
Her colleague, Mary Doram, came into the office and interrupted her self-flagellation. “Good morning, Jordan. How’s the day looking?”
“Hi, Mary. Another busy one. I have two new patients to evaluate, and one is at the end of the day.”
“Tough break, kid.” Mary put her purse away and left to treat her patient.
Even though Mary was only ten years older than Jordan, she’d taken to calling her “kid” on her first day in the clinic. Besides Jordan, Mary and Ben Evans were the other two physical therapists on staff, and they all got along very well. Mary had been on staff since the clinic had opened, and she had actually been Jordan’s mentor when Jordan had been in graduate school. She had done one of her internships at this clinic, and Mary had been very beneficial in teaching her how to be an effective therapist; not just with her manual skills, but with how to reach a patient emotionally, as well.
Jordan had managed to keep her focus on her patients throughout the day and was able to keep her thoughts of Kirsten to a minimum. Maybe it was out of sight, out of mind. Whatever it was, she felt more grounded now that Kirsten didn’t invade her awareness every other second.
Jordan was at her desk charting on the last few patients she had seen that afternoon when Karla brought her the chart on the new patient she was about to evaluate. It was a thirty-four-year-old female who’d injured her knee while hiking. X-rays were negative, and she was taking anti-inflammatory medication. It sounded pretty routine.
Jordan walked down the hall to the waiting room, still perusing the chart as she entered. “Hello, Ms. Murphy. I’m Jordan Roberts, and I’ll be your—” She came to an abrupt halt when she looked up and saw Kirsten sitting in the waiting room. Time stopped. Oh my God. She’s here. And she’s my patient. Fuck.
Kirsten stood and started laughing. She approached Jordan with her hand held out to shake hands. “Well, this is a small world, isn’t it? I had no idea you were a physical therapist.”
Jordan stood there with her mouth agape. She couldn’t believe this woman was going to be her patient. Shit. Shit. Shit. She took Kirsten’s outstretched hand and almost forgot to let go. “Kirsten. What a surprise. What happened to your knee?”
“I was hiking with my friend on Saturday morning—Brenda, the one that plays basketball—and I took a little tumble. I was supposed to go to her game against your team that night, but…I had a little trouble walking.”
Her heart tripped inside her chest, and she couldn’t help wondering if Kirsten could read minds. She had just been thinking about Kirsten’s absence on Saturday night. She was inordinately pleased to learn that Kirsten had planned on attending.
“Follow me, and let me check you out. Um, I mean, let me get your history, and we’ll work out a plan for you.”
Jordan’s face was on fire, and she shook her head, embarrassed that she was sometimes so transparent. In an attempt to act normal, she led a slightly limping Kirsten down the hall to a private room. She motioned for Kirsten to take a seat in a chair. Then she sat on a stool and pulled out an evaluation sheet.
“So, what exactly happened?”
“It was stupid. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was stepping, and I tripped on a rock and twisted my knee. Fortunately, we were near the end of the trail when it happened, and I didn’t have far to go to get back to the car. When we got back to my house, Brenda applied ice to my knee and told me to keep it elevated. By Monday, it still hurt like hell, so I saw my doctor, and he sent me to you.”
Kirsten smiled, and Jordan became mesmerized by her dimples and the twinkle in her eyes; eyes so blue, they were reminiscent of a mid-summer mountain sky. She took a deep breath to snap out of it and continued.
“So, you saw the doctor, and your x-rays were negative, correct?”
“Yes. He gave me some Motrin and pain pills, and he told me to ice it and elevate it as much as possible until I was able to see you.”
“And is that helping?”
“Yes. The pain isn’t as bad as it was over the weekend, but I’m still having trouble squatting and kneeling, and it’s terribly difficult to climb stairs. Our bedroom is on the second floor, so it’s pretty uncomfortable when I need to go up there.”
Our bedroom? So she and Brenda are together. Jordan scanned Kirsten’s patient information sheet and noted her emergency contact as John Hennessy, husband. Husband? What the hell? I thought she might have been with Brenda, but I never suspected she was straight. She’s not wearing a wedding ring, but I guess that doesn’t mean anything. She tried to hide her disappointment and returned to her questioning.
“What kind of work do you do, Kirsten? Do you sit most of the day, or are you on your feet?”
“I’m the vice president of human resources for a large company, so I sit at a desk, but I’m up and down a lot.”
“What do you like to do in your spare time? Are you active?”
“I go to the gym two or three times during the week, and Brenda and I hike on the weekends. Well, it might be a while before I’m hiking again.” Kirsten gave a half smile, and it nearly melted Jordan’s heart.
She smiled back. “Don’t worry, we’ll have you back to the gym and hiking in no time at all. How about you put on your shorts and lie on the table face up, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She stepped out of the room to give Kirsten some privacy to change and walked back to her office to get her bearings. She took a swig of water from her bottle and took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart before returning to the treatment room. What the hell is going on with you? Why is this woman making you a complete idiot? Women don’t do that to you.
She knocked and waited for Kirsten to invite her in. Kirsten had on a pair of running shorts that accentuated her tanned, lean, muscular legs, and she was lying on the treatment table with her left hand behind her head. Jordan noticed that Kirsten seemed to be a little nervous. She was breathing deeply, and Jordan’s eyes were drawn to the rise and fall of her breasts, which were very well highlighted in her tight, white T-shirt.
She is now your patient, Jordan. Any thoughts of getting together need to shut down. It’s your responsibility to give her the best possible care you can provide and make her feel comfortable with you.
“Okay, Kirsten, I’m going to check the range of motion of your knee. I’ll go nice and slow, and if you start to feel any discomfort, I want you to let me know immediately. This is just to see where your starting point is and see how much you improve over the next month. Are you ready?”
“Yes. I’m just a little nervous that it’s going to hurt.”
She looked directly into Kirsten’s eyes, gave her a small smile, and placed her hand on Kirsten’s, which rested at her side. “I understand. I’ve been in your position, and it’s important to me that you trust me to do this, just as I will trust you to let me know if you start to feel too much discomfort. Deal?”
Kirsten nodded. “Deal.”
Jordan bent Kirsten’s knee slowly until Kirsten told her she was experiencing some pain. She then followed the same routine into straightening the knee.
Jordan’s large hands gently gripped Kirsten’s leg and cradled it. The more time she spent with Jordan and heard her calming voice, the more Kirsten felt totally relaxed and knew that this would be a positive experience.
Following a few more tests of her strength, balance, and tissue integrity, Jordan applied some cream to her hands and started massaging her knee, starting from below the joint and working up to her mid-thigh.
Kirsten couldn’t believe how gentle Jordan’s hands were. They were delicately env
eloping the muscles and knee with such precision and tenderness that she started to feel better. Jordan then stretched her leg and instructed her in a few easy exercises to perform at home until her next appointment. Before the treatment ended, Jordan placed four electrodes around her knee for electric stimulation and applied an ice pack to help reduce the swelling.
“Your doctor wants you to attend physical therapy three times a week for the next four weeks. I want you to ice and elevate your knee as often as you can throughout the day but especially at night when you get home from work, since it will probably be swollen from the day’s activities. I also want you to do your exercises twice a day on the days you don’t see me. Make sure you stop by the front desk and schedule your appointments with Karla. Do you have any questions for me before you go?”
She smiled. “No, Jordan. You’ve been great. Thank you for being so gentle with me.”
Jordan grinned and winked. “Next time I won’t be so gentle.”
Kirsten’s pulse quickened with equal parts fear and anticipation for the next time.
*
It was late by the time Jordan finally completed her billing and charting, but she didn’t mind, and actually, it was kind of her own fault. After Kirsten had departed, she couldn’t think about anything except that Kirsten was now her patient.
Jordan’s heart had raced as she’d massaged Kirsten’s leg, and her breathing had hitched when Kirsten had let out a moan when she’d hit a sensitive area. Jordan had been quite relieved that Kirsten hadn’t seemed to notice the slight tremor in her hands as she’d been massaging her. Jordan certainly had her work cut out for her. She needed to respect the patient-therapist boundaries, which meant she needed to keep their relationship strictly professional.
Jordan usually tried to avoid mixing business with pleasure. She felt that if she got too involved, she might not be as focused on treating the problem. There had been a few times when she and a patient had hit it off, and they’d become friends once the patient had been discharged from her care. However, she had never had sex with a former patient. She couldn’t ever remember a time when she had felt this attracted or connected to one, though. Not that anything would happen between her and Kirsten…she’s married, and you don’t do relationships.
Jordan let out a sigh, gathered her coat and purse, and headed home, all the time thinking about how she was awfully disappointed for someone who didn’t do relationships.
Chapter Nine
Kirsten stopped at the deli near her house on her way home from therapy and picked up a couple of sandwiches and some potato salad for dinner that night. She still couldn’t believe how much better her knee felt after her evaluation and treatment with Jordan. She’d had physical therapy a few years ago for an injury to her shoulder, but that had paled in comparison to what she’d just experienced. Everyone at the clinic was friendly and professional, and she knew she would receive excellent care. She still was shaking her head about the fact that Jordan was her physical therapist.
The night she’d met Jordan was one she would never forget. She’d felt a connection to her that she hadn’t ever felt with anyone else. There was something about her, something she felt she had to know. She had to know Jordan, the woman.
She pulled her car into the garage. The house was dark, and John’s car wasn’t there. She was upset that she was going to spend another night alone. She was also irritated at John’s lack of consideration; he could have at least called or texted to let her know he wouldn’t be home for dinner—again.
Kirsten carried their dinner into the kitchen and placed John’s sandwich in the refrigerator. She got out a plate, scooped out some potato salad, and placed her sandwich onto it. Then she grabbed a fork and a bottle of water and went to sit at the kitchen table. She was midway through her sandwich when John finally got home. Kirsten looked at the clock. It was seven thirty.
“Were you working late tonight, John?” She tried to keep the ire out of her voice.
“Yeah. Research for this trial is kicking my ass. It starts in two weeks, and I feel like I’m not prepared. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call.” John looked at her plate. “Didn’t cook again tonight, huh?”
Kirsten banged her fork on the table and stared at him incredulously. “I had my physical therapy appointment tonight, and I just got home. I figured if you wanted to eat before eight thirty, I wasn’t going to cook. Besides, it’s not like you’re the only one working in this family.”
John looked shocked by her outburst. “I’m sorry. I just figured since I was working late, and you get home before me, that you would cook dinner.”
“How was I supposed to know you were working late? You didn’t tell me. No phone call, no text. Do you think I can read minds all of a sudden?”
Kirsten threw her arms up in the air, frustrated with this argument. She was yelling and felt like she was losing control. She took some deep breaths and closed her eyes. When she felt calm, she opened her eyes and gazed at him.
“When we were first married, we shared in the housework and cooking, but in the past year, you seem to be doing less, and I’m doing more. When did you start thinking of me as a housewife that does all the cooking and cleaning while you watch television or hang out with your friends?”
“I didn’t realize this bothered you so much. Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Because we haven’t spent any time together lately, and we hardly speak to one another. If we happen to be home at the same time, we’re not even in the same room. We don’t show each other any type of affection, and that’s my fault, too.” Kirsten sighed and looked up from her plate. “John, I have to ask you a question, and I want you to be totally honest with me. Do you still love me?”
“Of course I do. Why would you even ask that?”
“Okay, let me ask you another question. Do you still desire me?”
John’s hesitation was the only answer Kirsten needed. Her stomach clenched, and she was nauseous. She got up and threw her food in the trash, dropped her plate in the sink, and started to walk out of the kitchen. John grabbed her by the arm, and she turned around to look him in the eyes.
“I’m sorry, Kirsten. Things have changed between us, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the pressure I’m feeling because of this trial. The outcome could be very important for my career at the firm. I don’t know. Please believe me when I tell you I love you.”
“But you’re not in love with me. You know, John, I’m not sure you can blame this trial. We’ve been drifting apart for longer than you’ve been working on this case. I didn’t see it when it first began, but I’ve been seeing it lately. No, it’s not the trial’s fault. It’s ours.” Tears welled in her eyes when John remained silent, and she turned to leave.
Kirsten numbly climbed the stairs, and when she reached the top of the landing, she heard the garage door open and John’s car leave. It saddened her more than she wanted to admit that John had chosen to leave rather than stay and fight for their marriage. She walked into the bathroom, started the shower, and undressed. She stepped under the hot spray and let the water mix with her tears.
She shouldn’t have been shocked by his admission since she’d been seeing the signs herself, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. She felt like a failure; like she had failed her marriage, failed John, and failed herself. If she had seen the withdrawal when it had first began, maybe she could have done something to fix it. Maybe there was still a chance to fix it.
But was that what she wanted?
Chapter Ten
The following evening, John was home by the time Kirsten pulled into the garage. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and she’d been cranky all day. She’d kept replaying the previous night’s conversation over and over in her head. It had felt surreal, and now she was anxious to see how tonight would go. Was tonight going to be the end of her marriage, or would it be a second chance? She wasn’t positive which way she wanted it to go.
John was waitin
g for her in the living room, and she noticed a glass full of amber liquid, probably bourbon, on the table. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and his hair was wet, suggesting that he’d recently taken a shower. He had a look of defeat on his face.
I guess I have my answer. She pulled her shoulders back and prepared herself for the conversation they were about to have.
“I stopped and got some Thai food for dinner,” John said. “It’s on the counter.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Kirsten went into the kitchen and poured herself some Jameson Irish Whiskey on the rocks. She took this time to steel her nerves and quickly erect an invisible shield to try to deflect the pain and heartache she knew was coming. She took her drink and joined John in the living room. She was still hurt from their argument the previous night and suspected there was more to come. She sat at the other end of the couch, as far away from him as she could get.
John took a sip of his drink. Kirsten watched as he couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere but at his glass, like he was searching for answers that weren’t there.
“I’m so sorry, Kirsten. I’ve been wracking my brain over the past few months, trying to figure out what changed between us, and for the life of me, I can’t. All I know is that I don’t have the feelings for you that I once had. I wish to hell I knew why, but I don’t.”
Kirsten was exhausted from the stress and really didn’t want to have this conversation. She knew how this was going to end, and frankly, she was just too tired to fight it. “Is there someone else?” She hadn’t wanted to ask that question, but she had to know.
“No! I swear I’ve never been unfaithful. I’m just…I don’t know. I just woke up one day and realized I wasn’t in love with you anymore, and I’m not happy in this marriage. It’s nothing you’ve done. We’ve just grown apart.”
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