Page 26 of Pretty Thing

I sit beside Felix in the waiting area while snow spirals past the front windows outside. My knee bounces anxiously until his hand settles over it.

“Relax,” Felix whispers.

Not going to happen, but I nod anyway.

There are elderly people doing stretches in the corner. A woman with a shoulder brace talks softly with the receptionist. Somewhere farther down the hall, someone groans in pain, and the sound crawls beneath my skin.

I want to leave. I want my mom, and I don’t care that I sound five in my head. I’ve taken my family for granted, assuming they will be here to see me through life, marriage, and kids. I never, not once, ever imagined this.

My throat burns, and my chest aches. I choke back the sob that sneaks up out of nowhere and grips me. I cover my mouth to try and beat back the sudden barrage of emotion.

Felix notices immediately, his hand going to my back and rubbing in small circles.

“You okay?”

No. Not even remotely.

“I’m fine.”

His thumb rubs once over the back of my neck, and a little shiver races down my back.

“Eden Hale?”

Felix tenses as I look up to see who called my name. A tall and far too attractive man in black scrubs smiles warmly at me. I lift my hand into the air.

“Hi, I’m Jonathan. Come on back.”

Felix stands with me, and I glance up at his face. Even though his expression is hard to read, I feel like he is suddenly pissed, which makes no sense.

The physiotherapist glances between us.

“Oh, family can wait out here if you’d like,” he says.

Before I can answer, Felix jumps in.

“Where Eden goes, I go, but thanks.”

Something about the firmness in his voice makes my stomach flip. Is he jealous? I blink, confusion added to the already mixed bag of emotions swirling as wildly as the wind outside.

Jonathan nods slowly.

“Okay.”

Felix helps steady me as we follow Jonathan down the hall. My lone crutch creating an uneven rhythm on the linoleum floor.

“It’s really getting nasty out there,” Jonathan comments, looking out a large window.

He’s not wrong. The world outside is blanketed in fresh white powder. Once, I thought it was pretty, but now…it’s just another reminder.

Jonathan leads us into an assessment room. A long metal bar runs along one wall. Resistance bands hang from hooks and a medical table is covered in crinkly paper. My anxiety spikes instantly.

“Alright,” Jonathan says, pointing to the table. “Why don’t we start with you telling me what happened and the injuries we’re focusing on?” He looks at his chart. “Your medical records haven’t arrived yet.”

I bite my lip, and Felix grips my hips, helping me up onto the table before standing beside me and lacing our fingers together. I glance at them for a moment and realize that it feels normal to have him here.

Shaking myself out of the thoughts, I look up at Jonathan.

“I was in a car accident Friday night.” I glance at Felix. “We both were,” I say softly, and then I list my injuries as if I’m ordering a meal from the McDonald’s menu.