Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I had never pushed as hard for anything in my life.
“How, exactly, am I going to get in?” I queried Aiden. We had no equipment out here to aid me and my arms felt like Jell-O. I wasn’t sure I could even push myself up out of the wheelchair.
“Like this,” he said dryly and tipped up my wheelchair, sliding me into the deep water.
For a second, I was frozen, panic setting in fast, but a pair of hands under my arms pulled me up quickly and I broke the surface, sputtering and cursing.
“You fucking ass!”
He grinned and Maddox chuckled as he shoved a pool noodle under my arms to keep me floating.
“You were perfectly safe. You needed the shock to wake you up. Now we’re gonna do some work in here.”
I groaned. “Haven’t we had enough for the day? I thought this was my reward.”
“Nope. Your reward is a five-minute float before we get back to work.”
I let it go. The water felt too good, and I knew he was trying to piss me off. Aiden thought anger was a great motivator.
I was beginning to think he was right.
Leaning back against the headboard, I groaned. My body ached. Muscles I didn’t know I had ached. Aiden was relentless. I pushed on my thigh, amazed at the twinge I felt as I pressed. I hadn’t said anything to Aiden or Maddox, worried it was a different sort of sensation, but for the first time since waking up in the hospital, I felt a small glimmer of hope. It gave me the courage to reach out to my wife.
The pain I feared happened with every new routine, but it faded as we went along. I never knew when it would hit, but Aiden watched me closely, making notes. I had no idea what he was keeping track of, yet I knew when he was ready, he would tell me.
I dialed Katy’s number, tension radiating through my body. It had been three days of silence from her. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gone three days without speaking to my wife. I needed to hear her voice.
“Hello,” she answered, her voice quiet and cool.
“Ah, hi. It’s me. Richard,” I sputtered, sounding like an idiot.
Which I was.
“I know that,” she replied.
Silence stretched out between us. I had no idea what to say to my wife.
“Was there something you wanted?” she asked. “Or are you just calling to breathe heavily into the phone?”
A smile played on my lips, remembering a phone call much earlier in our relationship when she had asked the same thing. It was the first time she had been smart with me.
Was she remembering that too?
“I’m about to put Heather to bed, and Gracie is waiting.” Her voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Could I talk to her?”
She paused.
“I promise not to upset her, Katy. I miss her.” I sighed. “I miss all of you so much.”
Her voice caught. “Here.”
I heard her tell Gracie it was me.
“Daddy!” Gracie’s voice was excited.
I had to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “Hi, baby girl.”
“Miss you!”
Pain lanced through my chest. “I miss you.”
“You working?”
I cleared my throat. “I am. Are you having fun?”
She giggled. “Jenna take me to da zoo. I pets some goats and gots some totten tandy!”
Despite the emotional pain I was feeling, her words and lisp made me smile.
“Good. I’m glad you’re having fun.”
“You done soon?”
“Soon,” I promised, not knowing what Katy had told her.
“I gets Mommy.”
“Gracie…” How did I apologize to my baby girl and make her understand?
“Yeah?”
“I love you, and I’m sorry I yelled the other day and that I’ve been in a bad mood. I won’t do it again.”
“Dat’s otay, Daddy. You have boo-boo, and it make you sad. Mommy tell me.”
“Daddy won’t be sad anymore, okay?”
“Otay.”
“Let me talk to Mommy.”
“Otay. Lubs!”
I heard her hand the phone back to Katy.
“Daddy say sowwy. He not mad now.”
“Good,” Katy mumbled. “You crawl in bed, and I’ll come read you a story.”
She spoke into the phone. “Thank you for apologizing to her. She hasn’t dwelled on it, though. We’ve made sure she’s been busy and happy.” She paused. “Children tend to forget the bad stuff.”
I heard her message. Gracie would forget, but she couldn’t.
Had I already lost her?
“Thank you. Katy, I—” My voice caught.
“What, Richard?” I could hear the weariness in her voice. Sense her withdrawal.
I remembered what my new counselor, Randy, had advised. “Speak, Richard. Say what you’re feeling out loud. Truth is painful sometimes, but it’s real. No one can read your mind, so you need to express yourself clearly.”
“I’ve been an ass. A total ass,” I blurted. “Worse than that. A total bastard.”
There was silence.
“I was scared, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Why?” she asked softly.
“Because I was terrified to ask you if I never walked again, if you would leave me.”