'The message you're sending is mixed

I'm broken, I need to be fixed

I'm in need of protection; I'm in need of love.'

*ALTHEA'S POV*

October 16, 2023.

"Aw, what are these sad faces?" Carol entered the staff room like a breeze, swift and fresh, contrasting our gloomy moods. Or maybe, a strong gust of wind would have been more appropriate. "Are you forming a new club: my lover is disabled and stubborn?"

"Ex. Asher is my ex-boyfriend," I corrected, the word still foreign on my tongue, although the nurse was too focused on the plate of cookies in the center of the small table to notice.

It was almost as if she hadn't heard me when she grabbed one and after a bite, asked,

"So what happened?"

"I've already talked enough. It's your turn!" Caleb, Sarah's boyfriend, raised both his hands.

I'd got time to learn his name in the past 30 minutes, and also how much he loved his girlfriend, as everything he'd told me revolved around her: their past year together, their current situation, and all the projects he'd already changed to adapt to her disability.

But now, it was my turn, and my lips were suddenly dry as I took another sip of my cold latte, swallowing with it all the words stuck in the lump of my throat.

I couldn't talk about Asher and I's past, and until five days ago, I hadn't imagined he had a present or future. Besides, was there still an 'our' when we weren't together anymore?

"Asher and I had a fight. He found out my Internet searches about hemiplegia and... didn't take it well..."

It was a mild way to put it, while with Asher, nothing was mild, and I shouldn't have been so taken aback by his reaction.

Yet I'd forgotten what it was like to fight.

"Oh, that boy is so proud! I'll give him a piece of my mind if he said mean things to the angel you are." Carol's voice raised slightly like a foretaste of the scolding she would give him. Well, once she would have finished her cookie, and seeing the two bites remaining, my stomach turned.

With guilt or a protective instinct? I wasn't sure, but it quickly pushed the words out.

"No, no, he didn't talk much, and I have my wrongs in this too... I didn't only look at medical explanations and PT tutorials about hemiplegia, I also searched for gift ideas... for disabled people." I winced myself at the sound of it, closing my eyes to not see their judging looks.

However, instead, I had an even more piercing jade staring at me.

"I know it's stupid... but I guess I panicked when he invited me to his birthday, and I'd almost forgotten."

By dint of trying so much not to recall, I'd forgotten. Well, at least, I'd managed to fool myself into thinking I had.

"Or maybe I hadn't, and I remembered too well that it's also the anniversary of our first date," I finally admitted in a whisper, as if speaking it was already too much. The cracks of my voice wouldn't have allowed it anyway, as what had started as a spark of frustration in front of Asher had now turned into a burning lump climbing, up my throat, the back of my mouth, my nose...

"But in the end, it doesn't justify reducing him to his disability and... hurting him."

I quickly shook my head, trying to push away the ball of fire that was getting too close behind my eyes before I could break out in front of so many gazes. Although when I blinked the tears away, there was only one pair of sorry blue eyes in front of me, while Carol's chair was already empty as she rushed around the table to hug me.

"Aw, sweetie, don't worry too much about it. It's all new to you, and it's okay to make mistakes." She reassured me, exactly like she'd done with Theo, the other day, when he'd accidentally knocked down a glass with his basketball, and she was talented because I still believed her words, the lumps of stress slowly cooling down in her warm arms. "He'll understand. It's like a rollercoaster with him. He flies off the handle quickly, but he comes down to reason, sometimes."

"He's a wild ride..." I chuckled, as she couldn't have come up with a more accurate comparison, and knowing it, I'd held on to my searches like some would have to their safety belt before the first climb.

"Oh, I know the perfect gift!" I pulled away from Carol's embrace, glancing between her wide eyes and Caleb's to get their view as I explained, "A trip to a theme park. He's always loved them."

His broad smile the first time we'd gone on a rollercoaster was still imprinted in my mind, though it might have been for another reason than the attraction ride, and as the adrenaline of this whole day came back to my memories too, my light bulb moment started to flicker.

Even before Carol frowned. "I'm not sure... Asher generally doesn't like public places, or even going out. But you know him better than I do, and with you, he really goes out of his way in every meaning of the words."

Was she supporting my idea or trying to deter me completely?

Anyway, the twinkle lighting in her gaze was turning my 'bright idea' into a flashing light of warning, and I quickly turned to Caleb in the hope of getting a more objective view.

"Everyone loves theme parks. Sarah and I's first date was at Disneyland. She loves it."

At this point, the Google searches have helped me more, and I was thinking about pulling out my phone when he continued,

"But don't tell her I told you 'cause then she'll never talk to me again. Not that it'd change much..."

"Wait, that's it!" Another bulb lit up, and soon, three, four, fifteen, and more. "We could organize a trip with everyone. The kids will be so happy, and we can find a way to take Sarah too, so you could have another date."

"You think it could change her mind?" he asked, chewing on his lip piercing as he considered the idea.

"You'll never know if you never try. It could remind her of good times while making new memories."

And it would be the same for Asher and me, but at least, we wouldn't be alone.

"Okay, I hate to be the killjoy, but do you realize his birthday is in less than a week? It's impossible to set everything with the permission papers, the transportation, and the chaperones." Carol's six fingers appeared beside us to bring me back to earth like the descent of a rollercoaster.

Yet if I'd learned something in this clinic, it was that nothing was impossible.

Besides, after a descent, in a rollercoaster, there was always another ascent, going higher, right?

"Well, you already have two adult chaperones here, and I can help you with all the organization," I quickly replied, trying my best puppy expression as I added, "Please! For the kids, for Sarah and Caleb, for Asher."

***

*ASHER'S POV*

"Your first exercise will be to make a list of your main goals."

The second the man in a light blue coat pronounced those words, I regretted entering the large room full of colorful mats, treatment tables, parallel bars, large balls, and more instruments of torture.

PT movement room, they called it.

Why had I even rushed there?

Oh right, to avoid facing Althea and the reminder of what I'd found on her phone: the tips and... lists.

"I know it might sound pointless, but it's one of the most important tools of a successful PT," the man, Daniel, from the tag on his coat, explained, probably sensing my deadpan glare.

It wasn't personal, not yet, but it could become if he kept tapping his pen on the desk with each argument he pointed.

"It helps keeping track, but also motivation."

He hadn't even hooked me to one of the electrical machines, and he was already getting on my nerves. It would be a new record.

Now, I understood why everyone kept preaching how efficient he was since he'd arrived three months ago. As for his methods, that was another story.

"I've already made a list years ago, and I wouldn't be here if it worked." I too dabbed-my fingers on the tablet-to make my point.

"Okay, and can you give me an example of what was on your list?"

"Why? Are you a genie from a lamp?"

I might have read too many stories to the kids, but I imagined genies to be blue and at least, funny, not a know-it-all with a graying strand of hair above his forehead.

Still, you never knew if you never tried, and I was desperate so I typed some of my old wishes.

"Walking. Running. Getting in the NBA again, and fuck my girlfriend in an airport bathroom."

More exactly, the order had been: walking, so I could have run to New York and explained everything to Althea, and once I would have won her back, we would have fucked in the airport before I would have taken a flight to the NBA selection.

I'd written that list three years and seven months ago, when I'd still been hopeful and delusional.

"Firstly, I don't see the problem with the last one. Airport bathrooms are wheelchair friendly now."

"Sure... because wheelchairs are so sexy."

"You wouldn't imagine. A lot of patients in the clinic where I worked before found really creative ways to adapt at this level, and some even got a second wind in their marriage." He winked, as if he'd just offered me a magic tip, but all that appeared was the disgusting image of seventy-year-old, wrinkled prunes handcuffed to a wheelchair. Ew.

"She is engaged." I quickly stopped him with what should have been my first argument. "To another man."

It should have been my first argument these past three days for every skip of my heart when I'd met her doe eyes, for every wandering thought when she'd brushed my skin, and for every tingle of hope she'd lit up with her smile.

But no, I'd needed to see those damn Google searches to realize how delusional I still was. Every time she was near, I was getting delusional.

That wouldn't be a problem for long though, because after how I'd sent her packing, I wouldn't be surprised if she'd already left.

I'd been the biggest idiot, and she'd been right, as always.

I'd known it the moment she'd said it. She'd only been trying to help me. Yet the 'only' seared like a red-hot iron.

For the past days, she'd only tried to help me. She only saw me as any other patient here, the poor hemiplegic guy who could only feel in one side of his body, who could only use a wheelchair to move, who could only talk for so long before getting tired, who had only three-quarters of his right leg... Only, only, only...

I'd been marked by that word since the accident, chained by the limitations like a slave who could never get out, and when I forgot about the shackles, they only pulled me back harder.

She was only there for three weeks.

"Engagements and marriages aren't always forever," Daniel replied, as even he, I had only managed to silence him for a few seconds. "Trust me. I'm divorced myself."

How surprising...

"Anyway, for now, let's focus on your other goals. They're great, long-term goals you can keep in the back of your head, but what I want you to focus on are short-term objectives, smaller and easier steps to check along the way," he explained, with more taps of his pen on the plastic desk obviously.

"It can be anything, no matter how simple. I've got patients who wrote things like rolling a cigarette or bottle-feeding their grandchild. Anything that will give you little joy within a short range of time."

The thrum stopped finally, as if it were an important moment, when he pulled out a white sheet of paper.

It was, as, for the first time, he said something that spoke to me. Not something that sounded straight out of a kid's book. Something within my reach.

"Two weeks, three weeks, one month... These small victories are the best motivation, and you can look back on them when times get harder." He pushed the paper towards me, along with the pen. "You don't have to do it now, or at all, but please, think about it."

I did.

I couldn't shake his annoying tone out of my head, even once I'd finished the stretching exercises and came back to my room. Like I couldn't erase every moment I'd spent with Althea in the past days flashing through my mind every time I heard his advice.

I knew phantom sensations by now, but that was so much more nagging, to the point that I couldn't concentrate all morning, and by 11 am, I abandoned my laptop to get some fresh air in the hallways-something I rarely did.

"Oh my god! What's happening?! Is there a fire?"

Okay, I never got out of my room. But there was no need to alert the whole building, including the three people on the other side of the glass door at the end of the hallway.

"Oh, wait, no. You wouldn't come out if there were a fire."

"I needed a change of scenery." I shrugged, not even glancing at Carol's cocked eyebrow as my attention was somewhere else.

"You know you could also talk to the scenery." She came closer, following my gaze towards the glass door, where on the other side, farther into the game room, Althea was standing with her back to us. "And apologize."

"I will," I muttered because I couldn't avert my eyes from the extraordinary scenery when Althea knelt down to talk to Theo.

And those thighs... even leaner, even wrapped in that unflattering uniform, they were still one of my favorite things in the world, along with her dark, mesmerizing eyes and her plump little smile.

And when she glanced over her shoulder and met my gaze, her smile stretching slightly wider, Mamma Mia... there might have been a fire finally.

"What did you do to the sweet girl?" More efficient than a bucket of cold water, Carol interrupted my contemplation and cooled me down.

"I told you I will apologize."

It was even the first thing on my list, once I would have found the right words to pronounce, and if I didn't choke before.

"Not today. I mean what you did to break her heart all these years ago, and don't try to fool me with your 'long-distance' problems." She stopped me before my fingers could slide on one of the predictive texts. "It's obvious there's more between you two, and I'm not only talking about the sparks everyone can notice."

"There's no more sparks between us." At least, on Althea's side. "And believe me, what we've had is dead and buried."

There was no better way to describe it, and I would have laughed at the play of words, but through the lump climbing up my throat, it only came out as a bitter chuckle.

"Men can be so blind!" Carol huffed, the roll of her eyes ending towards the glass door, where I could clearly see Althea and the ring on her finger. "Anyway, tell me what happened?"

"Don't you have work to do?"

"No, it's fine. Althea is handling everything. She's so sweet and patient and beautiful... Why did you let her go?"

Carol was really the queen of subtlety-and it was coming from me.

"You know I'll pester you until you tell me?"

She was also stubborn, almost as much as I was.

"Yeah, and I know it will be worse when I tell you, so never."

My lips and mostly, my tablet were sealed.

"Did you cheat on her?"

"Who do you think I am?!" I snapped my wide eyes at her to add the exclamation marks to the AI voice, making her lift her hands.

"I don't know. I'm trying to guess what can be so horrible."

She would never guess, and she would never stop trying.

Unless I told her. "You swear to never repeat it to anyone and not beat me up for it?"

"I promise. Did I ever spill anything before?"

No. That was the reason why my finger was hovering over the tablet.

I trusted her. She was like a second mom to me, as annoying and as loving, except she knew things I would have never dared to admit to my mother.

"I asked Paxton to tell her I didn't survive in the accident."

"You did what?!" she gasped, and this time, the whole building definitely heard her.

I was already regretting telling her when she started swatting me, on my right arm so I could feel all her wrath and I struggled to type a protest.

And the most frightening was that she didn't even check if I was serious or ask for more explanations before.

"You promise." I reminded her, making her stop and straighten up finally.

"Um, Carol?"

Oh, no, it was someone else who did that, someone sweet, patient, and so fucking beautiful standing right in front of us.

"Theo's mom says she could help us with the... um, at-hand project..." Althea tilted her head, exchanging a look with the nurse beside me.

"Oh, yes, sure!" Carol exclaimed, way too excitedly in comparison with the warning she threw at me. "We'll talk about this later. Don't think it's over."

If she'd abandoned her violent sermon, it must have been a really important 'at-hand project', like the paper Althea was clutching behind her back, keeping away from my eyes, even as she turned to watch Carol walk away.

And the way she was rolling her lips together told me it was all linked.

I could try to find out more and risk pushing her more away in the process, or I could enjoy the little joy of having her close and cross small goals on my list.

I only had three weeks after all.

Only 3 weeks... What new goals do you think he will write? 🤔

Also, what about the surprise Althea is planning? Who's excited? And who agrees with Carol? 😉

Tell me all your thoughts in the comments, and don't forget to vote ⭐ if you liked this chapter! You know how much I love to hear from you! Your little comments are the best motivation for me! 😘✨💗🍑