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“Listen, Poppy, I know you’re a pro in muscle manipulation. Your eagerness to test theories to speed up your progress is commendable. But this is serious stuff. Individually, these injuries take time to heal. Your knee has to ease into it. The tendon snapped.”

I deflate at the reminder. “Yeah, okay.”

She lifts my chin, giving me an encouraging grin. “We’ll get there. Keep doing your thing.”

“Yeah,” I repeat, turning to reach for the second crutch.

“You’re comfortable in your home?”

“Absolutely.” I swing over to my things on a chair, looking at the text on my phone from Darby.

“Then let’s do one-crutch walking a few hours a day. That will give the knee at least a little weight.”

My spirits lift. “Sounds good. Any chance I can sneak in a workout in the gym? Darby is my ride and she’s running late.”

“I’m not sure your overprotective husband would like it.”

“He’s not here and I’m working on loosening him up.”

“Shit, you wear me out. You know what’s approved. I may join you once I get all these notes to your doctors.”

“Dr. Rexwell is at lunch with the time difference.”

“Rexwell is waiting. You’re his prize patient. Do you need help to the gym floor?”

“Got this.”

“Of course you do,” she mutters.

I make my way out of the rehab area, loving the fact that the rehabilitation center is attached to a gym.

It’s not fully recreational, but more specialized with the gym environment geared toward strength building. It reminds me of my training gym with Cirque.

I drop my things on a bench, remove my shirt, pop in my earbuds, and start my rotations.

My mind thinks over the last few weeks and how easily I slid into life in Charleston. Evin didn’t get to take the time off he planned. The scene in his office that morning, and the news of Tony Sanchez’s split, spread like wildfire. Tessa was inundated with meeting requests from nervous clients that heard a variety of rumors. Evin quickly eased their worries.

He mostly worked from home, but when he needed to be in the office, I tagged along. Unlike my first impression, I now loved his office. Even more, seeing him in his element. His small team of employees is fun to be around, and Tessa is wonderful.

Evin watches me closely, worried that I’ll be homesick. Daily calls with Ryanne and Dante keep me updated enough that hasn’t happened.

Something feels off and it strikes me this is the first time I’ve been alone in weeks. Evin’s irrational fear of me hurting myself has rubbed off on everyone.

I take advantage, warming up with a routine that Jesse has approved. All the yoga, Pilates, and kinetic exercises have been great, but working with weights is a pleasant change. The training regimen from Cirque clicks in, and in no time, I’m in the groove. I push myself until my arms and abs are burning for a break.

“Jesse! Oh my God! It’s been ages, how are you?” The fake screech from behind grates like nails on a chalkboard and tells me Jesse is near. “I have been meaning to call you.”

“Why is that?” Jesse deadpans.

“I heard about your situation,” Screecher continues.

“Situation?”

“Rumor has it they bullied you into taking on that woman as a patient. I’ve never actually known a stripper, but I can’t imagine she has any medical insurance that covers your services. Bless you. You’ve always had such a big heart.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but—”

“And to think the Grahams have to go through this humiliation. Not only does Evin elope, but he’s now forced to bring that woman back to his hometown. I know for a fact he lost business the first week they moved here. Respectable business professionals distanced themselves.”

Knowing this woman is referring to me turns my stomach. Bile pushes up my throat, and I force myself to swallow hard, aimlessly scrolling through my playlist.

Please, God, don’t let my eyes water.

“Where the EVER-LOVING-FUCK are your clothes?” The monstrous voice booms, startling me. Strong arms engulf me from behind, folding me to him.

Evin takes one look at me, notices my glassy eyes, and his murderous glare slices to the side. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he focuses on something. “What are you doing here, Rina?”

I draw in a deep breath, daring to glance at the gorgeous brunette who’s been talking to Jesse. She’s in expensive workout clothes with a face of full make-up, looking more like a model to my gym-rat appearance.

“Evin, I… I…” she stammers, her gaze coming to me and filling with jealousy.

He squats, his thumbs trailing over my tattoos at the edge of my sports bra.

“That’s Rina?” I barely whisper, pain stabbing in my chest. “She thinks I’m a stripper.”

He bolts up, his anger radiating in waves. “You called my wife a stripper?”

She goes pale, guilt written on her face.

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