AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Show me how far you can bend your knee so far,” he said.
Heather raised her leg, feeling a twinge of pain about less than halfway bent. She winced, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Okay, don’t go any further. Straighten it back out. Take your time.”
She repeated the reps five more times, only to feel the pressure build up.
“Okay,” Allen said. “We can stop with those.”
Heather pulled her lips tight into a grimace. She wanted him to leave. She didn’t need his help or anybody else’s. She’d been taking care of herself for years; she didn’t need any help now.
“That’s enough for today.” She turned carefully to her stomach. She could get up. “I don’t need therapy.” Then his hands touched her back. Why did the heat from his strong hands percolate into her skin? “Don’t.”
“You need help,” Allen said.
“Says who?” The tightness in her jaw increased. “I’d appreciate it if you left.”
“Is there a reason you don’t want help?”
Heather pressed herself up on the palms of her hands. “I don’t have to answer that. Who asked you anyway?”
Allen cleared his throat. “I apologize if this session didn’t go the way you wanted it to.”
Heather crawled to the couch and sat up. Her bottom lip trembled as she placed her face in her hands. “Please leave.”
“I’ll see myself out,” he said.
She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Her tears burned the back of her eyes.
Then she felt Tinsel at her feet and she pulled him to her lap. Did she want to get better? Yes. Why was it so hard to accept help? Heather buried her face in Tinsel's soft coat.
***
Allen rubbed at his chin as he walked to his truck. What happened that quickly? She was in pain and he wasn’t the therapist she was expecting. She barely got through one workout before kicking him out. He could put in a request for her for another physical therapist, but the pain in her eyes triggered his protective nature again. Was there something else?
He had a taste of holding her in his arms when he carried her to the hospital. She wrapped her arms around him, close to nestling against the crook of his neck. She was light in his arms as the snowflakes that had dusted her coat. Her scent was light and floral, filling his lungs. He had sucked in several breaths.
Pulling back into the parking lot of Maple Meadow Physical Therapy, he dismissed his thoughts of Heather. No matter what his father or Desmond said, he wouldn’t travel down that road again. He had enough to deal with, getting used to his life without Crystal.
Once inside, he rubbed his hands with hand sanitizer and passed by the sign-in desk manned by Maggie, the administrator. His mouth quirked up into a smile as he heard the sounds of Motown coming from down the hall. He stifled his laugh at first but stopped in his tracks as he watched patients young and old dancing to the oldies. Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s “You’re All I Need to Get By” played and he hummed along.
How that song would play on his father’s record player as he would dance with Allen’s mother. As a little boy, he would often catch his parents dancing or laughing together. They made marriage look easy, but it wasn’t until Allen married that he realized the truth. It wasn’t.
How he envied the relationship his parents shared. Naturally, when his time came, he assumed he could live up to their example. He failed, big time, only leaving behind his scarred heart. Life hit him in the face like a prizefighter. Perhaps it only worked for people like his parents.
Allen would never experience that joy, and even if he did, it would be short-lived. Women weren’t the only ones that desired companionship. Allen couldn’t stand being alone but the longer he was, the more he got used to it. It was easier to be alone. No one to pressure him. No one to criticize or complain about his mistakes.
“Are you going to join the fun?” Maggie asked.
Allen listened as The Temptations, “The Way You Do the Things You Do,” blasted through the speakers. He didn’t dance in public. He hadn’t done that since his wedding day. “I think I’ll p
ass. Mr. Braxton is taking care of it.”
Mr. Braxton, who should have been relaxing because of his recent hip surgery was chair dancing with his cane. Allen chuckled at his efforts. Yet as he checked his patients’ files, he saw some were making progress while others would need more time to get back on their feet.
He sighed. This was his element and he could understand Heather’s fears. He saw them all the time. She wasn’t the first independent patient he had, but she needed to understand that getting better meant she needed help.
***
