AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I don't make it but halfway through, looking at the pictures, before a man calls Aro’s real name. “You can join us,” the guy says, knowing that I'm with his patient, rather than assuming I'm here for some form of physical therapy of my own.
As a way to get back at Aro for the way he's behaving, I ignore the pointed look he gives me that tells me to stay put, that he wants to do this on his own. I give him a cheery little smile and follow him into the therapy room.
“I'm Anthony,” he says, holding out his hand to shake Aro’s first and then mine. He points to a chair off to the side. “You can have a seat right there if you like.” Aro moves in the direction of the chair, but Anthony stops him with a hand clamped on his shoulder. “That's for her, buddy, not you. You're here to work. Let's get to it.”
Aro doesn't grumble or complain in front of Anthony. Why would he? He needs to hold on to his pride, maintain some level of manliness rather than admit that he’s exhausted himself completely just getting into the building and into the office.
I look at my smartphone when it rings, refusing to pick up Ugly’s phone call. I don't want to be a distraction to the other therapists and patients in the room that are working so hard.
I can't pull my eyes away from Aro as Anthony guides him to a mat and helps him lower himself to the floor. They spend fifteen minutes stretching. Maybe it's because I've known the man longer than Anthony has, but I can tell he's in pain. Each stretch and pull of his right leg tugs at that incision site. He's all but healed on the outside but the doctor told us it would take months to fully heal on the inside.
I listen as Anthony tries to slow Aro down, knowing he's wasting his breath when he tells my teammate that there's no harm in waiting or taking a break, if he doesn't feel up to going into the next step. Aro won't listen. He's the type of man that's more likely to hurt himself for pushing himself too far, than admit that he's not ready or incapable of completing a task that's put in front of him. Admitting it would be giving in to defeat.
He may get close to doing that in front of me, but he'd never do that in front of another man. It's that machismo part of him that doesn't allow it.
They head to a pair of parallel bars, Aro frowning when Anthony hands him a crutch. Anthony smiles when Aro finally takes it from him. I watch for twenty minutes, Aro getting more and more frustrated with every step he attempts to take with the crutch.
I can see he wants his body to do something that used to be muscle memory, but now it's a struggle. His back muscles flex underneath his t-shirt, his pecs clenching with every step. I can see easily how successful he's going to be at this despite his growing frustration. He's made progress already, getting the hang of the crutch despite the look in his eyes when he's done that tells me he feels like a complete failure.
I don't placate him when he approaches, sweat sticking his t-shirt to his chest. He wouldn't want to hear it. He doesn't want kudos for a job well done.
“You don't have physical therapy tomorrow, but you do have a counseling session,” I tell him as we wait for the elevator.
“Like fuck I do,” he grumbles, which I anticipated.
I don't argue with him. There'd be no point in it. He's a grown man. He can do what he wants.
“I’m not gonna go talk about my feelings with some fucking stranger,” he mutters as the elevator door opens. “It's bad enough to have you here all the fucking time.”
I do my best to ignore the way his words make me feel. I realize Aro’s not the only stubborn one, as I walk at a normal speed to the car without offering him any help.
Chapter 10
Aro
I've never considered myself a hypocrite until now. Yesterday, I met physical therapy with the kind of determination I have faced most things in my life. I want to be the best and I've never minded working hard to get where I need to be. This morning, I don’t even want to get out of bed. I want to wallow in self-pity, regret my life choices and the things I can't manage to be quiet about. Slick didn't deserve the way I spoke to her yesterday. Doesn't mean I apologized for it because I didn't. I was pissed.
By the time I made it to the car, I wouldn't have asked for her help anyway because it's something that I'm capable of. Being tired these days is not a new feeling for me, but she just took off, which she had every right to do. I don't know how I can want to be alone but have her here in coinciding breaths.
