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“What’s wrong with you today, sweetness?” Mrs. Deveraux asks while we’re doing water exercises. She’s my last patient for the day, and I have zero energy left.
“I’ve had some rough few days,” I admit.
“Tell me,” she encourages.
I hesitate, fearing I might honestly burst out crying if I recount everything, but I can’t keep it all in any longer. Gripping the edge of the pool tightly with one hand, through sobs and tears, I recount the trip to New Orleans, losing and finding Grams, and pushing Max away. Mrs. Deveraux listens intently, not interrupting me once.
“Honey, listen to me. There are good men in this world, and bad ones. Unfortunately the bad ones tend to be in the majority, and they have the unfortunate tendency to spread their seed as widely as possible. Your man is one of the few good ones.”
“I know.”
“And any good man knows that every woman who has faced hardships has baggage. It’s our prerogative. I think you should go home now and rest. You’ve been through too much emotional turmoil to work or make any decisions.”
Sniffling, I shake my head, removing my hand from the edge of the pool. Damn it, I’ve grasped it so tightly it left a mark in my palm. “This is my last session. I can’t clock out before finishing it.”
“I’m your patient, and I can always say I wasn’t feeling well enough to go through with the session. No one will question me.”
I laugh out loud for the first time today, because that is completely true. Mrs. Deveraux is a force to be reckoned with.
“I don’t want to sleep,” I admit. “I want to talk to Max.”
“Then go get your man.”
Watching the bottom of the pool, I ask, “What if he doesn’t want that?”
“I don’t think so. It is a possibility, true. Men are known to change their minds, especially when it comes to women. But I don’t think your man is that type. Even if he wanted distance, he would have the decency to talk to you about it.”
“Then why isn’t he picking up?”
Mrs. Deveraux leans on her back, floating on the water. “A million reasons.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say, itching now to get out of the water and check my phone again.
“Come on, girl, let’s you and I get out of this pool.”
My phone still has no incoming messages or missed calls, and I dial up Max twice to no avail. Mrs. Deveraux’s words ring in my ears as I get dressed, and fear creeps up in my veins. What could have possibly happened? She’s right. He’s not the type to disappear off the face of the earth. At least not without a good reason. As I walk out the front door of the clinic, I’m giving serious thought to calling Alice and asking if anything happened, but then I notice Alice herself sitting on one of the benches in front of the clinic. That’s when I know something must be wrong.
“Alice? Is anything wrong?” I ask with my heart in my throat, approaching her.
She rises to her feet
as she sees me, pushing her curtain of dark hair out of her face. “Now, now, don’t panic.”
“Max?”
“He was in an accident.”
Blood rushes in my ears the moment she utters those words, panic sweeping across every cell of my being. I begin to shiver. “When? What happened? Is he all right?”
Alice nods once, and the shivers subside somewhat. “He was rushing to the office, and a car crashed into his.”
“Oh my God.”
“He injured his left knee—again, but he’ll be fine. They did some tests, but except for a lot of bruises and his knee, there’s no damage. He’ll probably need some more physical therapy.”
My eyes sting with unshed tears as I shake my head.
“Half the family is at the hospital,” Alice informs me. “But I have a feeling Max wants you there too.”
