Unbreak This Heart
Page 20
“About that back rub.” She giggles and scoots even closer.
“I might be more excited about this than you are.”
The start of my laugh is abruptly cut off by the moan that escapes my mouth. With each stroke of her firm touch, my muscles ease, and I relax. Closing my eyes, I focus only on her touch and nothing else. Not of the man I once was or the man I am now, not what anyone expects of me, or my confusion of what to expect from myself. All thoughts and feelings are obliterated by the feel of her soft, warm hands massaging me.
My hand goes to hers and she stops. Striking green eyes blink twice. In the unusual lines and curves of her irises, I see the longing. With her hand in mine, I feel it. The strange pull to her I can’t explain. My mind may not remember her, but I’m pretty sure my heart does.
“Would you mind rubbing underneath this itchy gown?”
A crease forms at the corner of her mouth as she shyly nods.
Carefully, I lean forward, and she tugs at the gown, creating an opening for her to slip her hands beneath it.
Rubbing along my shoulders, she moves to my chest. My eyes open slightly and admire the satisfied expression on her face. Her massage is giving my body the relief it needs, but I can see it’s also giving her the connection she craves.
“I don’t know if you’ve seen it yet. You have an intricate tattoo that goes across your abdomen, chest, shoulder, and arm. Part of it is in memory of your father.”
“I was able to look at some of it in bed. I like it. From what I can see, it looks pretty badass.”
The flush to her cheeks has me curious of the cause.
“The first time I met you, I got a glimpse of it as you were putting a fresh shirt on. I found it very attractive. I found you very attractive.”
Hearing that brings me a surprising amount of joy. I assumed she found me attractive since we were a couple but hearing her admit it to me now provides me with a sensation of satisfaction.
“How did we meet?”
“My best friend, Jane bought me a certificate for eight weeks of personal training with you. It was for kickboxing and self-defense classes.”
“Did I do a good job?”
With her thumb in my shoulder, she focuses on a knot and works at it.
“You’re an amazing instructor. You helped me more than I can express in words. And I don’t mean just as my instructor, you became an incredible friend and someone I could lean on.” Lowering her hand, she grazes her fingers across my abs and her eyes dance with a desirous spark that my cock notices too well.
The last thing I need right now is a full-on erection I can’t do shit about. Using my good arm, I adjust the blankets, and her eyes, of course, go right to where my hand is. Fuck me, she needs to stop looking. I’m about to grow a semi thinking about her stroking it.
Touching her hand draws her attention to my face. “I appreciate the massage.”
Her fingers lace between mine and her full lips split into a smile. “Anytime.”
Rubbing my thumb along her hand, I enjoy the touch of her soft skin. The scent of vanilla drifts my direction, giving me a reprieve from the sterile scents of the hospital.
“I’m glad you came to visit me. I hope you keep coming.”
Her rosy cheeks swell with her smile. “I will.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
—
CARTER
I’m thankful I start physical therapy today. I’ve had as much as I can take of the one window room, the scents of plastic, sterilizing solution, and my own body odor. The nurse had a fit when she found me taking a piss on my own today, but the hell with her scolding attitude. My body is fit, it’s not like I can’t use my arms and one good leg to get around. The best part was telling her I’d be taking a shower and dressing on my own. Yeah, that went over well, but damn if I didn’t win that argument. It’s time I start learning how to get around the way I am. It’s been over a week I’ve been stuck in a hospital bed. I can’t take much more. Cabin fever is setting in.
Apparently, word got out about my stubborn attitude because they sent a male nurse to my room to take me to physical therapy. His green scrubs contrast against his chocolate skin. He’s a big guy with kind, dark brown eyes. They were smart to send him. All the sweet little nurses struggle to help move me.
Waving my hand, I turn down his outstretched arm.
“Nah, Seth, I can get into the wheelchair just fine on my own.”
“I’m sure you can, but it’s best not to push it. If you lose balance and fall, you can injure your back further.”
“Well, that’s what you’re here for. To catch me if I fall,” I quip.
Seth’s mouth curves and he takes a step back, arms outstretched and ready to catch me if needed.
Wobbling on one leg, I brace my hands on the bed, turn, and drop down into the chair. My attention is drawn to the door not only because it’s my first time getting to leave, but there’s a gorgeous brunette beauty standing in the doorway with her eyes fixated on me.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“I’m happy to see you too.”
“Visiting will have to wait. He’s headed to physical therapy.”
There’s a mixture of emotions that cross her face. I find myself wanting to know what each of them are and the reason.
Alex has been visiting me every other day and I look forward to her visits. They’re the highlight of my boring days. She always visits for at least a couple hours and every time she brings me something new to try. My favorite being the food. Hospital food is made for sustenance, certainly not taste.
“Can she come?”
Seth shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”
Her smile brightens and seeing it tugs at the corner of my mouth. Setting her bag in the room, she settles into a casual stride alongside us.
Down a few floors, I’m rolled into the physical therapy room which is large, full of equipment and many injured people and their physical therapists. Several windows along the right wall give a nice ground view of the trees and landscaping outside. The left corner has a desk with two associates working at it.
Stepping out from behind the desk is another guy in black scrubs, gelled blond hair, and unusually hairy arms. With a clipboard in hand, he heads right toward me.
“Carter Maxwell?”
“Yeah.”
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m your physical therapist. My name is Jeff Myers.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“So today we’re going to start off light with focusing on stretching and dynamic stabilization exercises, then gradually we’ll add in core strengthening exercises and muscle strengthening. I hear you’re a personal trainer, so this should all be familiar to you.”
Familiar, that isn’t something I’ve felt since I woke up in a hospital unable to remember anything about myself. I chuckle, and Jeff looks at me confused.
“I lost my memory, bud. I’m not sure how familiar any of it will be.”
“Sorry to hear that. Although the good news is some things we do could still be familiar to you. Your mind might remember what it’s supposed to do in response to the workouts.”
There’s a spark of hope that flourishes in my chest. I’d love to remember something, anything, about the man I was.
“And you are?” Jeff’s attention switches to Alex. I can see the attraction in his eyes when he studies her, and I twitch at the pang of jealousy it causes.
“Oh, sorry. I’m Alex, a friend of Carter’s.”
“Girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend.”
Did I really just bark that at him? Am I really trying to stake my claim on her? Alex’s gaze whips to me and the look on her face sparks something in my chest I can’t quite put my finger on. Fuck it, yes, I am. Maybe I don’t want another guy to take her from me.
Jeff’s expression contorts. His disappointment is obvious and it pleases me.
“It’ll be good for Carter to have your support. Let’s get started.”
When that’s through, he has me lay on a mat on the floor and attempt several stretches on my own. He does it first, then I copy.
The last twenty minutes I spend working on what he calls stabilizing exercises. Unfortunately, nothing we do throughout the hour-long session is familiar to me, and when he asks if any of it was, it only irritates me more.
Seth helps me into the wheelchair and we all quietly walk back to my jail cell…I mean hospital room.
Alex touches Seth’s arm and indicates for him to follow. They walk out of the room and I wheel myself over to the window. Looking out it, a sudden sensation of sorrow consumes me. What if I never remember my past or the man I was? What if I never walk again? This might be my new life, and even though this week I put on a positive attitude I’m okay with it, I’m really not.
Alex steps back into the room, and although her smile usually lightens my mood, it doesn’t do the trick this time.
“We’re leaving.”
“What?”
“I’m taking you out of the hospital. Seth gave me permission to wheel you outside. There’s a path that winds around the backside of the hospital. We’re going there.”
And with that, my mood lightens. “Let’s go.”
Pushing the wheels forward, I follow her out. She gets the elevator and before long we’re passing through halls on the way out. As soon as the fresh air hits me, I stop and breathe it in deep. The evening sun is falling, leaving behind a pink and orange glow across the horizon. The air is the perfect temperature of warm with a light breeze. Alex continues forward and I join her side.
She walks, and I wheel in silence for several minutes. Stopping at a bench, she sits down, and I park in front of her.
“Thank you for asking to take me out. I needed it.”
“I know you did.”
Vivid green eyes linger over my face which has a bit of scruff that needs to be shaved, but thankfully, my head is free of its bandage. Staring back at her, I sense that longing I can usually feel emanating from her. Bracing my hands on the wheelchair, I struggle to raise myself to a standing position. Immediately, she jumps to her feet. Placing my hand in front of me, I stop her from reaching out.
“I want to sit next to you.”
Creases on her forehead reveal her concern, but her eyes spark with life.
“Okay.” She scoots down the bench making room for me. I use the bench as leverage to pivot and sit down next to her.
“You called me your girlfriend.”
The corner of my mouth raises. “Technically you are. We haven’t broken up, have we?”
Her eyes glisten with moisture. “No, we haven’t.”
“I like you. I don’t want you to stop coming to see me.”
“I don’t want to stop seeing you either.”
Glancing down, I notice her hand close to my leg. Sliding my hand beneath it, I intertwine my fingers with hers. Her hand is warm and the contact comforting. Her gaze lingers over me, then our hands. She nibbles her lip and I wonder what she’s thinking.
“Do you miss him…I mean me, the man I was?”
A single tear rolls down her cheek. “Yes,” she admits.
“Did I tell you I loved you?”
Her gaze looks off, she’s fighting more tears. “Yes.”
“Did you feel the same?”
She wipes at her cheek. Seeing her pain is a struggle for me.
“Yes.”
She’s confirming what I already assumed. I’ll never be able to explain how foreign it feels to be a stranger inside your own body and mind. This beautiful woman had a relationship with me. One I believe was a strong one, and now, that’s been taken from her.
“Are you still staying at my house?”
“Sometimes. I…uh, should probably stop. I’m beginning to feel like I’m invading your privacy and space.”
I remain silent. As much as I want to keep seeing her, I’m not comfortable returning to my home with her there. There’s too much for me to cope with without her there, let alone with her there.
“The doctor said I’ll be released in a week if my physical therapist signs off on it. I’ll have to keep coming back for my appointments of course. There’s a lot for me to figure out. Sandy has spoken with my employer, and they’re giving me a temporary leave of absence, but if I can’t walk, I can’t instruct. I might have to look into some desk jobs. Hell, I don’t even know what I can do. And tomorrow I meet with a man named John. Sandy says he’s my MMA manager. I was supposed to have another fight in six weeks. It’s been canceled. The hospital has been a bit of a security blanket. I haven’t really had to deal with what my life is going to be outside of it. I admit I’m not sure where my life is headed next.”
Reaching up, I wipe away another one of her tears.
“But I know I’d like to keep seeing you, I just, need to figure a lot out for myself.”
“I understand. I moved everything back into my place already. I stayed the night a couple times because I…” Pulling her hand out of mine, she covers her face as she fights back the outpouring of tears. “Wanted to be close to you.”
Her pain is palpable, the tension unbearable.
“I should probably get going. I’ll walk back with you.”
“Alex.”
Struggling to compose herself, she turns her head, the sorrow in her eyes cuts right through my heart like a knife slashing delicate fabric.
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who owes you an apology. You wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for me.”
“What do you mean? What happened? I feel like there’s more to my accident than anyone wants to tell me.”
“It’s my fault.” Her breathing is raspy between controlled sobs. “The mark on my face was because of my ex. You went to confront him. During the confrontation something happened, I don’t know what, then you were hit by the car. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been there, you wouldn’t have confronted him. You wouldn’t have the memory loss or injuries. You wouldn’t have to worry about losing your MMA career. All of this is my fault.”
Her eyes are full of desperation and agony awaiting my response. My chest constricts. Hearing the truth about my accident doesn’t give me the relief I expected. But regardless of what happened, she’s wrong, this isn’t her fault, and she shouldn’t carry that kind of pain with her for the rest of her life.
“My accident wasn’t your fault.”
“How can you say that?”
“Did you ask me to confront your ex?”
She shakes her head.
“Does your ex have a history of violence?”
Again, she shakes her head.
“Did you know I went to confront him?”
“No.”
“Then how is my accident your fault?
When she can’t answer, I know my words have sunk in.
“Alex.”
The moment my hand touches her back, she collapses into my chest. At first, it surprises me, but then I find myself wanting to comfort her. Placing my arms around her, I rub up and down her back. Beneath my fingers, her hair is soft, and her vanilla scent appealing. It’s a scent I’m beginning to savor each time she’s near.
“Do you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” Leaning back, I place my hand beneath her chin and raise her face to meet mine.
“I want you to promise me something.” Around her pretty green eyes are splotches of pink, but even with her sorrow I still find her beautiful. “I want you to promise that you won’t let my accident destroy you.”
With a sniffle, she nods. “Only if you promise me something too.”
“What?”
“That you won’t let it destroy you e
ither. That you’ll fight like you have for everything in your life.”
Her request hits me deep, snuffing out the pity and anguish I’ve been wrestling with. It gives me a new reason, a new purpose.
“I promise.”
CHAPTER FORTY
—
CARTER
Jeff grins with his silly ass approval as I step with my good leg up to the walking rail.
“You’re making good improvement and I’m about to sign off on releasing you. You sure you want to chance it?”
“C’mon Jeff, no pain, no gain. If I’m going to be able to walk, we have to push it. I have to learn to balance and put weight on it.”
“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I know. I think you were right about my mind remembering the training I used to give. Sometimes I know exactly what you want before you ask and how I need to do it.”
“I’ve noticed.” Setting the clipboard on the stand, he puts an arm out, ready to help me if needed.
With my left hand on the rails, I use my right arm to adjust my right leg, aligning it with my left. With both hands on the rails, I slowly put weight on my right leg so I can step with my left. Keeping my hands on the rails stabilizes my balance and lets me use my muscles to lessen the weight on my leg if needed.
One step and my grip tightens on the rails. Breathe in, breathe out. Another step. Pain ripples up my hip and to my lower back. I grimace, but don’t stop. Another breath in, another breath out. Step again.
“Fuck.”
“It’s time to stop,” Jeff insists.
“No,” I bark.
Another breath in, another breath out. Step.
When I reach the end of the nine-foot walking rail, Jeff has my chair ready for me to collapse into. Sweat beads off my forehead and along my upper back. My hands are shaking. I grip the wheelchair arms to hide it.
“You did better than I expected, but that was too much for your first time. I can see it on your face.”
“Every day, Jeff. If I do it every day, soon it’ll get easier.”
“That’s usually how it works, but if you’re going to insist on doing this at home, have someone there to keep an eye on you. Last thing you want to do is fall and cause further injury.”