Page 20 of Deking at Love
“Not me.What would be the point?”
“Exactly.Now that we have that settled, I really do need to get back to work.”
He tossed the elephant in the air and caught it.“Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee after this.”What the fuck was wrong with him?
“Why?”
I have no idea.My mouth is doing all the thinking for me today.“So we can clear out the elephant.”
“Look, Sam, no offense, but I buried that elephant years ago, and I don’t have any interest in exhuming his decayed corpse.Let’s keep our relationship strictly patient to therapist, okay?Much less brain damage that way.”
“Are you saying dealing with me gives youbrain damage?”Jesus, why was he making his self-inflicted bull’s-eye an even bigger target?
Her mouth swung open and immediately snapped closed.
“Looking back, I thought we had … fun.”Hecertainly had.
She blew out a breath that ruffled her hairline.“Sam, I really need to get through my work.”She began to roll her workstation away.
“Wait.Just have coffee with me.Or lunch.You get a lunch break, right?”
“I’m working through lunch.”
“Okay.After work, then.”
“I have somewhere to be.”
“What, are you getting your hair done?A manicure?Meeting a girlfriend?”Please don’t say you’re going on a date.“Going to the gym?”
“It’s none of your business, but if you must know, I have a standing date at the animal shelter.”
“What do you do there?”
“I’m a volunteer, so I do whatever they need me to do.”
“You’re kidding.”
She gave him an epic eye-roll.“Is that so surprising?Why would I kid, Sam?Never mind.”
“Yeah, never mind.Dumb question.”
With a disgusted huff, she dragged the workstation to her desk and turned her back on him.
“Why the hell would I expect someone with zip sense of humor to kid?”he grumbled.He blew out an exasperated breath of his own, tossed the elephant in the air a few more times, and finally plugged in his earbuds.He couldn’t concentrate on the photography narrative.Or his favorite hockey podcast.Or his playlist.
Instead, he slipped out one of his earbuds and covertly watched and listened as Angie interacted with some of the other therapists.One was a guy in his early fifties, and she joked with him as easily as she did with his sixty-something patient, a woman with a messed-up shoulder.Same behavior with a different therapist, a younger guy who wore one of those silicone wedding rings, and a woman who acted like his wife.She even took a phone call where she was all sunshine smiles with someone asking her about some exercises she’d prescribed.
Why didn’t Sam getthatAngie?The one from six years ago?Was it him?Did she hate himthatmuch?Two could play this little game.
It seemed like forever before she turned off the machine and freed him from the cold compression sleeve.The smile she’d so liberally shared with everyone else was nowhere to be seen.In a voice as dry as the Colorado air, she listed off the usual exercises, plus two more, and went back to tapping on her keyboard.She sat at an angle—so she could watch him in her peripheral vision like one of the vindictive high school teachers from his past.He’d skipped a few of his steps to test her, and sure enough, he got the evil eye for it.
God, he needed to get through this and get out of here!
He tossed the elephant a few more times, seriously tempted to chuck it at her head, but then she left the room.He sat up and massaged the ankle.It felt pretty good.In fact, it had been feeling pretty good the past few days, and today he’d made it through the exercises without any twinges of pain.So she didn’t want him using one crutch because it threw his gait off.What aboutnocrutches?
He swung his legs over the edge of the table and eased himself off it, gradually adding more weight to his ankle as he stood.Hey, that didn’t hurt!A little more and he’d be fully upright.Oh yeah, this was working.
I’m a hockey player.Balance and coordination are my middle names.I’ve got this!
