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“I never used to be afraid. I used to do high-wire work, acrobatic dance, and I never hesitated. Dance was what made me strong.”

He tipped her face up toward his. “That’s where you’re wrong. Dance didn’t make you strong, your heart did. You have a fearless heart, and all you have to do is to understand that.”

“But I ran away from the island. I couldn’t bear everyone talking behind my back...”. The look in his eyes was killing her. It held all the warmth of a calm summer ocean. All of its strength.

“You were just a kid, and under intolerable pressure. You’re back now, and you’re making your mark. You’re strong enough to face anyone down.”

What Rick thought...mattered. More than anything she could think of at the moment. Fleur took one more moment in his arms, letting the warmth of his body seep through to hers. It was too good, and she had to stop.

“Let’s try again.”

“Are you sure?” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

Fleur wiped her eyes. “Let go of me. We’re trying again.”

Rick had known that this was going to be a difficult obstacle for Fleur, but it was one she had to conquer. When her head was in the right place, everything else would follow.

He only had himself to blame for the way he’d reacted to the way her body had felt pressed up against his. His heart had almost jumped out of his chest. His senses... He wasn’t going to think about the way all of his senses had reacted to her.

Fleur was making him feel something again. He hadn’t been able to connect to anyone after Lara had died, and even looking at his four-month-old baby girl, who had looked so like Lara, had been too much to bear at times. Rick had ultimately come to terms with it and devoted himself to giving Ellie what she needed in life. But something about Fleur made his heart ache, in the way that an under-used muscle might after a first session in the gym.

Doctor. Patient. Relationship.

Get that through your head, Rick.

And today’s session had been a success. They’d laid the foundations for another step forward. When Fleur finally walked away from him, she’d do it all on her own.

* * *

One more step. Rick had turned up in her room that morning, a bunch of files under his arm. He’d put them down on the table and invited her to read all about herself.

It had all been there. Statements of accounts, patient notes, every single word that the clinic had written about her. Fleur had flipped through them, and he’d sat quietly, watching her.

“What’s all this about, Rick?” Fleur reckoned she knew, but she wanted him to say it.

“I heard what you said. About people saying things behind your back.”

She could have hugged him. No...embrace was a better word. Something soft, and tender. The thought made Fleur’s head swim.

“This isn’t the same...”

He shrugged. “I pulled the classic trick on you when we first met. Writing stuff down in your file and not showing you. It probably pushed a lot more buttons for you than I realized. So I decided that full disclosure was the way to go now.”

“You don’t need to show me these, Rick. There’s a difference between keeping a medical file on me and gossiping about me.”

“I know. I just wanted to be completely honest with you. Are you the one person in the world who doesn’t try to get a peek at their medical file when they think no one’s looking?”

He had a point. Fleur leafed through the notes that detailed her injuries and her care plan. Rick’s notes on her treatment were brief and to the point, including nothing of what she’d told him in confidence. That was just between the two of them.

Then she got to the form that he’d refused to show her, scoring her on her performance so far. She’d wondered whether there really was a form, or if he had just been making it all up to taunt her, but it was there, typed out with boxes for the scores.

“‘Level of outrage.’” She read the words out loud. “You only gave me six out of five for that? I would have reckoned it as a seven at least.”

Her joke seemed to ease the stress lines on Rick’s forehead a little. “I was a little conservative in my assessment, I’ll grant you that. You hadn’t started throwing things at me at that point. Eight out of five for aim, by the way.”

Fleur chuckled. “All that baseball practice as a kid didn’t go to waste, then.” She gestured toward the files. “I appreciate the thought, really I do, but I’ve seen all I need to see.”

It had obviously been bothering him, and Fleur had the answer to his unease. It was the one that Rick always used. She got to her feet, leaving her crutch leaning against the wall and taking his arm.

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