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“What about your house, Dad?” Lanie asked. “Could he stay in the den downstairs?”
“It’d be a tight fit for the wheelchair.” Dad scratched the back of his head.
Dr. Bhati raised his hand. “These are all good suggestions, but I have another you might consider.” After sharing a quick glance with Dr. Myers, Dr. Bhati cleared his throat. “There is a wonderful rehabilitation center just down the road. Dr. Myers and I can easily visit with Steven to keep up to date on his progress.”
Rehab? Steven couldn’t believe what he was hearing. While he understood his injuries required some drastic lifestyle changes, he hadn’t imagined he would be forced to go to another medical facility after his discharge from the hospital.
“I can’t go to rehab,” he protested. “I want to go home.”
Dr. Myers blew out an exasperated breath. “Steven, you have a broken leg and a bruised spine, which means you won’t be walking for the foreseeable future.” He gestured to Rose and Steven’s family. “Based on what your family has said, there isn’t anywhere you can stay that will meet your needs. If we can’t get you the care you require, how do you expect to return home?”
Steven crossed his arms carefully, mindful of both the IV sticking out of his right arm and the bandage over his heart. Truthfully, he didn’t have an answer to Dr. Myers’s question, but he wasn’t going to give the doctor the satisfaction of admitting that.
“Why don’t we agree to two weeks?” Dr. Bhati suggested. “It will give you more time to heal and learn how to function with your temporary disabilities. Then we can reassess at that point.”
“Are you able to give a better prognosis for how long the paralysis will last?” Rose asked.
Dr. Bhati shook his head. “Draining the fluid helped significantly, but it’s difficult to tell the extent of the bruising. We’ll run another MRI this afternoon to try to get a better idea. But regardless, he’ll need extensive physical therapy, which he unfortunately can’t start until his leg heals. The next six months are going to be critical for Steven’s recovery.”
“And you’ll need to make some changes to your lifestyle,” Dr. Myers added. “Consider this heart attack a warning. If you don’t take care of yourself, it may be worse next time.”
“Next time?” Lanie’s voice sounded strangled.
“Having a heart attack can increase the likelihood of another one, but there are ways to avoid it.”
“Don’t worry, Doc,” Dad said. “We’ll make sure he does what needs doing to get back on his feet.”
“If we’re in agreement on the rehabilitation center”—Dr. Bhati gave a meaningful look to his patient—“then I can call over there this afternoon to request a bed for Steven. Assuming everything goes well, we may be able to transfer him by the end of this week.”
Rose, Lanie, and Dad turned toward Steven. With a sigh of resignation, he nodded.
“I’ll go to rehab for two weeks on one condition.”
Lanie raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”
He pointed at her. “That you bring me work updates every day so my business doesn’t go under.”
Rose opened her mouth as if to protest, but Lanie put a hand on her arm to stop her. With pursed lips, Lanie appeared to mull over his request. For a moment, he worried she would say no, but she finally gave him a small smile and a quick nod.
“Fine, but only if you promise to follow the doctors’ orders religiously.”
“Deal.” Steven breathed a little easier. If he could catch up on work while he was in rehab, perhaps he could save his business after all.
Dr. Myers frowned in disapproval before he and Dr. Bhati left. Lanie and Dad followed them out into the hallway, likely to get more information on the rehab facility.
Only Rose remained. At first, she stared at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. But when she finally looked at him, he was taken aback by the warring anger and fear in her eyes. His stomach clenched as he worried what he might have just sacrificed to save his livelihood.
Steven slept fitfully that night. Despite his exhaustion, he couldn’t turn his mind off. Thoughts raced through his head. How long until I walk again? How am I going to keep my practice going while I’m stuck here? What will happen to my clients? And the question he didn’t dare speak aloud but that encompassed his greatest fear. Will Rose change her mind about marrying me if I lose everything?
That last one caused a pain in his chest that had nothing to do with the heart attack or his accident. He’d been looking forward to marrying her for so long. He wanted to start their lives together, and the accident had proved to him that they had no time to waste. Life was short, and he didn’t want to lose another moment. They’d planned to start trying for a family soon after the honeymoon. The thought of losing all of that caused an ache that no amount of medication could ease.
Seeing the hurt in her eyes after the doctors left had almost broken through his resolve. He’d agreed to the two weeks in rehab in hopes of softening the blow, but it didn’t appear to have had the desired effect. But she knew how important his business was to him—to both of them. Their future depended on its survival, and to ensure the firm survived, he needed those two weeks to fly by so he could return to his office.
Which was likely her other concern. She hadn’t brought up him hiring help again, but he suspected it was on her mind. And if he were honest, he could admit bringing on someone to assist with his cases would help lighten his load during his recovery. But he adamantly refused to take on a partner.
Maybe he could hire a law clerk. They worked for dirt cheap, more for the experience than the money. Hiring one would alleviate some of his workload while not costing as much as a partner, which would ease Rose’s concerns that he was working too hard without bankrupting his practice. It was a win-win.
The door opened, and a new nurse shuffled into the room. She murmured her apologies for waking him before tying a rubber band around his arm and waiting for a vein to appear. He stifled a sigh. Even if he hadn’t been kept up by his own brain, a hospital wasn’t the easiest place to rest. The nurses came in several times during the night, and at least one of those visits involved getting a blood sample. His arm was going to be awfully sore when he was finally released.
