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1
LANEY
I can’t imagine a worsefate than this.
I lift Nate’s leg carefully, straightening out his knee. “How’s that feel?”
The Nate I knew three years ago would agree. He would have rather been dead than stuck in a wheelchair for even an hour.
However, the one in front of me is more than thankful he survived the accident.
Nate looks down at me, a determined look in his ocean-blue eyes. “Good. Tingly.”
I smile and place his foot back down in the stirrup of his wheelchair. “Good. That’s good.”
Nate lifts the toes of his foot through his sock, gritting his teeth. “Ah.”
“Don’t strain yourself.” It has become almost a mantra by now.
He is the most determined patient I’ve ever had, not willing to go with the flow of his treatment plan but wanting to go above and beyond to get back to walking. Get back to normal.
With a heavy sigh, Nate runs his fingers through his dirty blond hair. “I’m not straining myself.”
I narrow my eyes as I get to my feet. “Nate…”
He looks at me from under his veil of thick lashes.
God. What did he do to deserve such beautiful lashes?
“Don’t give me that look.” I smirk.
“What look?”
“You know. The puppy eyes.”
Nate laughs. His laughs have gotten brighter over the past three months as he’s gotten better and stronger. Closer to the man he once was.
The man I knew years ago.
“What do you think, doc?” He grins, open and bright. “Can I get back on the water soon?”
I roll my eyes at the almost daily question.
A long, recurring joke that, the closer he gets to recovery, becomes more real by the day. “I don’t know why you’re so eager to go surfing inQueens.”
“Hey, it’s all I got here.” Nate shows no indication of disappointment on his face. “Besides, the waves aren’t half of what they have in California. You shouldn’t worry.”
“Have you ever heard the definition of insanity, Nathan?” I cock my hip to the side.
He squints one eye closed. “Remind me?”
“Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result.”
“Psssh! Surfing didn’t cause this.” He gestures to the chair. “I just happened to be surfing when the accident happened.”
I’m glad he still has his excitement for surfing. Many people wouldn’t be half as brave.
“It was a fluke,” Nate goes on. “A floating log or arogue pile or…”
