by Trisha Grace
“There’s nothing to understand.” Colin leaned forward. Julian might think otherwise, but his best friend needed Hayley now more than ever. “You do not go near Mr. Nicholson.”
The envelope in Charlene’s hand crumpled, and Colin frowned at the black smears on the white envelope where her hand had touched.
“Please, Mr. Wells.” Charlene set the envelope aside and shifted closer to him. “I’m sure there’s something I can do—”
Colin almost rolled his eyes. “I’m not interested.” He stood and left the house.
After a week of flying to the best hospitals in the country and going through endless rounds of examinations, the doctors had all come to the same conclusion. Julian would never walk again.
He had demanded a second opinion. When the doctor didn’t tell Julian what he wanted to hear, he insisted on seeing more doctors. As expected, meek and submissive Hayley arranged for his transfers without a word of complaint.
She would’ve made a perfect secretary.
After she’d stormed out of his hospital room, Julian didn’t see her for the rest of the day. But by that evening, his twenty-four hour personal nurse was sent to his room.
He didn’t see Hayley when he’d yelled at the nurses and doctors to discharge him so he could see another doctor to get yet another opinion. But a nurse came by soon after and told him that the papers were settled and he would be transported to another hospital within the next hour.
When Julian got to the hospital roof where the chopper waited, Hayley was already there. She’d ditched her high-end clothing for a pair of dark blue jeans, a black T-shirt, and white sneakers.
His personal nurse and a male hospital nurse helped him onto the helicopter, and Hayley climbed in after him. This time, she sat in the back with him and the traveling doctor while his personal nurse sat up front with the pilot.
Julian hated how small he felt. He hated that he needed help over every little thing, and he grew angrier looking at Hayley moving around on her own.
But when he finally looked up from her legs, he saw the deep purple bruises that her light make up couldn’t completely cover. Her arms were covered in cuts and bruises as well.
She winced when the pilot strapped her into her seat, then pulled her arms closer against herself.
The bruises, along with the way she sat while the wind whipped her hair about, made Julian realize she was in pain. The pilot hadn’t been rough when he strapped her in, but he’d still hurt her.
And Julian had pushed her to the floor the day after the accident.
What made her layer on thick makeup and get dressed up while she was hurting?
Hayley met his eyes when the pilot slammed the helicopter door shut. Julian looked away, writing her out of his mind. Whatever she was up to was her problem. He was only interested in getting better and returning to his life.
“Here’s the schedule.” Hayley handed him a printed calendar, pulling his attention back to the present.
Julian glanced at the filled calendar, then looked back up at Hayley. They’d just gotten back to the penthouse several hours ago. He immediately noticed the changes in the house. Every raised threshold in the house now had a ramp installed, and furniture had been rearranged to make space for his wheelchair.
Noticing such details came to him naturally now.
Since ending up in a wheelchair, Julian realized the world wasn’t built for those in wheelchairs. He noticed every obstacle that made it difficult or impossible for him to move around. It had frustrated him to no end, but he hadn’t even thought about getting anything installed in the penthouse.
Well, apparently Hayley did.
Now, five men stood in front of him while Hayley introduced them.
A physiotherapist who had worked with injured veterans and athletes. A sports psychologist who had worked with Olympic athletes. A masseuse to work on his leg muscles to prevent contraction. A trainer who would help Julian keep his upper body strong. A biomedical engineer with cutting-edge technology that would get him back on his feet.
He hadn’t caught their names. He didn’t really see the point.
“They’ll be here to work with you every day,” Hayley said after introducing them.
Julian stared at the calendar in his lap, then scanned the team of people she’d assembled. He had been adamant about getting back on his feet despite what the doctors had told him, but he hadn’t thought about the next step to take.
Besides the therapy and counseling offered by his doctors to help him adjust to life, they hadn’t given him any helpful suggestions on what to do next either.
But again, Hayley had thought about that for him.
A part of him loathed receiving any kind of help from Hayley, loathed that he hadn’t thought of everything he needed on his own. He’d always been on top of everything at work. He should have formulated a plan himself; he should have assembled his own team.
Then there was another part of him … the part that was grateful to Hayley. Despite how he’d treated her, she still did all this for him.
“Are we starting today?” he asked, mainly to distract himself from his thoughts. He couldn’t allow himself to grow soft toward Hayley. He wasn’t sure what was going on in her mind, but she definitely had an ulterior motive for helping him.
“If you’re not too tired,” Hayley replied, her face revealing no emotion.
“I’m not.”
Hayley nodded and moved forward.
His personal nurse grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, but Julian waved her off. “I can move on my own.” His nurse didn’t move away until Hayley nodded at her.
This is why she’s helping you. Hayley was trying to control his life. This was why he couldn’t get used to depending on her.
“Go on,” he said to Hayley, and she continued ahead.
Julian wasn’t sure where they were heading, but Hayley certainly knew. She opened the door to one of the guest rooms and entered, holding the door open for him.
Instead of the guest room he’d expected, it had been converted into a hybrid gym and game room. Small dumbbells lay in the far left corner of the room, next to an array of exercise equipment. In another corner, a black yoga mat lay between parallel bars.
Right across from him were several large screens attached to a computer system.
Hayley must have converted the guest room for his rehabilitation, but what was with the set-up? “Are we here to play games?” he asked. Was Hayley actually trying to keep him in his wheelchair as long as she could?
“Yes. Somewhat,” said the biomedical engineer, the only one of the team who had followed them.
Julian’s eyes slitted, and he turned to Hayley for an explanation.
“You’ll be fitted with electrodes that will connect you to the virtual reality game. It’s to train the part of your brain that controls your ability to walk.” She looked over at the engineer. “Why don’t you go set it up?”
His personal nurse retreated to a corner of the room while Hayley knelt down next to his wheelchair. “I didn’t want to bog you down with the science behind this once you got back, but I’ve printed out the research. It’s in your office. You can read it when you’re ready. The science makes sense. They’ve made it work before. I know it can work for you.”
He studied Hayley’s face. She so rarely showed any expression these days. It was as if she was nothing but a functioning robot. But now, she sounded … sincere.
If Hayley had decided to go out and work, she would no doubt be successful. She was meticulous and someone who took initiative without being asked, even when nothing was expected of her. He’d thought she was merely a delusional optimist when she said he would walk again, but those weren’t just words to her. She had gone out and set everything up so it would become a reality for him.
Julian tore his eyes from hers. You can’t trust her.
“You don’t have to take my word for it,” she said, and he thought for a moment that he’d spoken aloud. �
��As I said, the research is already in your office.” Her tone had gone flat, and her stoic face was back.
She pushed herself to her feet. And as she did, she leaned heavily on the wheelchair and her chest collapsed when she straightened. A beat of silence passed before she continued, “You just need to decide if you want to start training now.”
“Let’s start.” Whatever Hayley had planned couldn’t make him any worse off than he was now.
“I’ll send the maid in with some refreshments,” she said to the engineer as she pushed Julian toward the large screens. “If you need anything, let Hope know. I’ll be in the dining room.”
Hayley reached over toward him. For a moment, he thought she was going to give his hand a squeeze and perhaps give him some sort of encouragement. Instead, she took the printed calendar off his lap. “I’ll put this in your office.” Then with a smile and nod at his nurse, Hayley turned and left.
The bioengineer placed a weird looking cap over Julian’s head and explained how it would capture his brain signals. “Your job is to get Bob, the character on screen” —he pointed to the cartoon character on the flat screen TV— “to stand and then to walk.”
Bob had light brown hair, but that was where the resemblance ended. He was seated on a wooden chair instead of the wheelchair, staring straight ahead with the same stoic expression as Hayley.
Stop thinking about her. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Use your thoughts. Think about getting the character to stand.” The bioengineer went on to explain how the brain didn’t actively think about walking. “You need to start actively thinking. That’s the first step. Hayley has all the journal articles on the study and the experiments we’ve done. You can read all about them later.”
Julian was tempted to ask when Hayley had been in contact with him and how she’d found him, but he figured that wasn’t important. What was important now was getting Bob to stand.
Julian spent the next hour trying to do just that. He’d expected to get Bob up on the very first try and was surprised it actually took him so long to do so. Still, he grinned when Bob finally got off the wooden chair.
“Good,” the engineer said. “Let’s take a break.”
“No. I’m fine. The point is to get Bob walking, right?”
The engineer nodded.
“Then let’s do it.”
After another hour, Hayley came into the room and put a stop to the session just as Bob had taken his first step.
“I can still go on.”
“I’m sure you can. But for now, you have other things to do.” Hayley smiled as the bioengineer removed the strange cap from Julian’s head. “Besides, it’s not good to keep at it too long at it. Your brain needs rest too.”
The bioengineer nodded.
Julian didn’t like how Hayley seemed to be in complete control of the entire team of people who was supposed to help him. But he didn’t have a choice. For now, he would do as Hayley said.
But if she thought she could manipulate him just because she had control of his rehabilitation, she’d have to think again.
Julian went through the rest of the rehabilitation therapy according to Hayley’s schedule. Human bodies weren’t meant to be in a wheelchair, so the masseuse kneaded hard at his leg muscles. He wasn’t sure if it was working since he couldn’t feel anything.
Then the sports psychologist made him go through exercises of centering himself and visualizing himself walking and doing everything he loved.
At the end of everything, Hayley checked if he was still up for his physiotherapy session. He was, so Hayley sent him to the gym to train his upper body strength with his new trainer.
Julian was exhausted when he finally got to bed. He’d wanted to spend an hour or two reading up on the research Hayley had printed out for him, but he was too tired.
Though he’d been determined to walk again, bouts of uncertainty assaulted him throughout the week. The negative news from the doctors didn’t help either. At times, he managed to push those thoughts aside and tell himself that everything would be okay. He would walk again.
Other times, he got swept into depressive thoughts that he was kidding himself. At those times, Hayley was always there next to him, announcing that he would walk again. Sometimes he was sure Hayley was a mind reader. She always seemed to know exactly when he dropped into his dark state.
Doctors tried to contradict her, but she always respectfully rejected what they were saying. She would turn decidedly to him and say with absolute confidence, “You’ll walk again.”
And now, having seen the team she’d assembled and the schedule she’d set up, it was easy to sweep the uncertainty under the rug. Hayley had a concrete plan to get him walking again, and she had every confidence that he could do what the doctors said was impossible.
But why? Why would she want that for him?
When the bathroom door opened, Julian closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Before the accident, Hayley always showered before him. She would then sit and read in bed. Not once had she gone to sleep until he did.
He’d always ignored her and pretended she wasn’t even in the room. Now, he wasn’t quite sure how he should behave, so he chose to pretend he was asleep.
Hayley adjusted the duvet over him. Several moments of silence passed before he felt her hand on his shoulder.
“Lord, I thank you for Julian’s complete healing,” she said so softly Julian had to strain to hear what she was saying. “He will walk again. He’ll be able to go back to all the activities he loves. Give him strength mentally and physically to overcome this trying time. Give him confidence that all will be well.”
Julian wasn’t sure why, but he thought she would plant a kiss on him before getting into bed.
She didn’t.
He wanted to open his eyes and ask her why she was praying for him. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve anything she’d done for him.
When he eventually opened his eyes, Hayley was lying next to him in bed, with her back to him.
He wasn't sure how long he stared at her back, but it was long enough for him to realize how much he longed to reach out and stroke her hair. He wanted to thank her for all that she’d done—all without him asking.
Don't be stupid. Julian forced his eyes shut. He could never trust an Espel. Hayley was nothing but her father’s puppet. Once her parents demanded that she leave—which was only a matter of time—Hayley would pack up and go without a second thought. Just as she had married him without a single argument.
And what would he do then? Julian swallowed the uncomfortable lump of fear in his throat.
I’ll continue with my rehabilitation until I’m back on my feet. If he had to, he could hire his own team of experts. It might set him back a few days, but he could get it done.
Julian had always been independent. He had to be when neither his father nor his stepmother could care less about him. He hadn’t needed anyone then, and he didn’t need anyone now.
Julian opened his eyes again, and his arms ached to pull Hayley against him. He wanted to hold on to her so she couldn’t leave. He shook his head and forced his eyes shut.
It had been a long day. He needed rest.
Chapter Seven
“MISS HAYLEY, WELCOME home.”
Hayley smiled at Sheila, her maid.
Sheila’s hair was pulled back in a low bun, the temples showing more gray than Hayley remembered. Sheila had been working in the house since Hayley was born. While her mother worked on projecting the image of a perfect socialite, Sheila did most of the work in bringing up Hayley.
“I missed you,” Hayley said and gave Sheila a hug. She’d intended to bring Sheila over to the penthouse once things between her and Julian were more settled. But she and Julian never got to that stage, so this was where Sheila remained.
“I missed you too,” Sheila whispered after glancing over her shoulder.
Though Hayley had always been close to Sheila, they’d always
made sure they didn’t openly reveal how close they were. They didn’t even reveal that they went to the same church and attended the same cell group.
To Diana Espel, it would be highly inappropriate for Hayley to be so close to a maid. Several times, her mother had threatened to dismiss Sheila because Hayley had appeared to take Sheila’s advice instead of her mother’s. So Hayley always caved to her mother’s decisions because she couldn’t bear the thought of losing Sheila.
“They’re not in a good mood,” Sheila continued in a whisper. “They’ve been fighting.”
Hayley nodded. ‘They’ve been fighting’ used to be a warning for her to stay out of her parents’ way. When Sheila told her that her parents had been fighting, Hayley would either lock herself in her room and make as little noise as possible or flee to the Casas’ place until the storm blew over at home.
Today, though, she didn’t have that option.
Her father had texted her and told her to come home. His short text message ended with ‘We need to talk.’
She’d been tempted to reply with a ‘No, we don’t,’ then throw her phone away. But she needed to face her father if she was to keep her word to Julian about keeping his position secure. “Thanks for the warning.”
Sheila winced slightly as she gave Hayley a head to toe scan. “They should’ve gone to you instead of asking you to come home.”
Home. Hayley’s eyes swept the mansion. Stone-blue walls met a simple white cornice. She’d always thought the blue was slightly too dull for her taste, but her mother loved it. The slate suede leather couch had several white cushions with silver embroidery, bought to match the white coffee table.
The color contrast between here and the penthouse was as different as night and day. The only similarity was that neither this mansion nor the penthouse felt like home to her.
“I’m fine.” She’d rather be here than for her father to see Julian in a wheelchair. Julian’s mood had been volatile of late, and the last thing she needed was a blowup between her husband and her father.
“I’m not your parents, Hayley.” Sheila cocked her head to the side and walked with Hayley through the living room. New contemporary paintings hung in place of those her mother had purchased before Hayley got married.
