Chapter 30
“Don’t pity me.” ~ Caleb
Caleb
“W hat’s up with you today?” Hazel asks during our physical therapy session the next day. “You’re a grumpy bear.”
I grunt before I begin another round of squats. “You call me a grumpy bear every time we have a session.”
“You’re worse than normal.”
I finish the squats and wipe the sweat from my brow before answering. “Bad day yesterday.”
Her cheeks darken before she glances away. “What happened?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Does everyone know?”
She widens her eyes and feigns confusion. “Know what?”
“Don’t lie to me. You suck at it.”
She rolls her eyes. “And you have ways to make me talk,” she says in the worst imitation of a Russian accent ever.
“Hazel,” I grumble.
“Fine,” she huffs. “There might be a rumor floating around the smuggler’s grapevine about an incident you had yesterday at Hideaway Haven Resort. ”
“Fuck! I don’t want the entire island to pity me.”
She rears back. “Pity you? No one pities you.”
I snort. “Sure, they don’t. And no one spreads rumors behind my back either.”
This gossipmongering island. I planned to return a man worthy of Maya. Instead, I’m pitied by the smugglers for constantly embarrassing myself.
Hazel points to the low platform. “Thirty seconds.”
The smugglers may pity me but I don’t have time for a pity party. I begin stepping up and down the platform. My left thigh protests every movement but I refuse to slow down. I am not letting this injury stop me. I refuse to be the cripple everyone points to at the grocery store.
“Time,” Hazel calls.
I do one more step down. My left leg wobbles. I switch my weight to my right leg but it’s tired from the workout and can’t support me. I stumble and start to fall but Hazel catches me and helps me to sit down.
Fuck. It’s been months since I got injured. I shouldn’t be nearly collapsing from some step-ups. I growl. “I’m never going to get back on active duty if this doesn’t improve.”
Hazel’s mouth gapes open. “Active duty?”
“What the hell do you think I’m doing here?”
“Physical therapy to recover from an injury. ”
“And once I’m recovered enough, I’ll go in front of the medical evaluation board to get reinstated to active duty.”
“You’re serious?”
“What do you think? My life is a fucking joke?”
She holds up her hands. “I know it’s not.” She blows out a breath before dragging a chair over and sitting across from me.
“I thought the Army already honorably discharged you.”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“But you’re not in a medical retention processing unit.” An MRPU is where soldiers usually recover from their injuries. But most civilians don’t know what an MRPU is. I raise my eyebrow and she explains. “I did my internship at an MRPU.”
“I managed to convince my commanding officer to give me convalescent leave. The leave is up soon and then I plan to go through the Medical Evaluation Board.”
Hazel drops her chin to study the floor. I recognize the stalling tactic.
“What is it?”
“I’m not an expert. But when I interned at the MRPU, I had a few of my patients go through the Medical Evaluation Board and Physical Evaluation Board.”
“And?” I push when she doesn’t continue.
“It’s not easy to get reinstated.”
“I know. It’s why I’m working my ass off.”
She frowns. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. Why do you think you had to be carried out of Hideaway Haven Resort yesterday?”
I growl. “I wasn’t carried. ”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No. Continue. You obviously have more to say.”
She swallows. “Um…none of my soldiers returned to active duty.”
“None?”
“Correction. Some returned to duty but they had modified duties or were reassigned under COAD.”
“I don’t qualify for continuation on active duty. I don’t have fifteen years of active-duty service.”
“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’ll sail through the medical board.”
I glare at her. “Don’t humor me. You nearly dislocated your jaw gaping when I said I want to return to active duty.”
She drums her fingers on her thighs before asking, “Do you want my professional opinion?”
“I’m paying you to be a professional, aren’t I?”
She hesitates for such a long time I figure she won’t tell me her opinion. But she finally blows out a breath and speaks.
“It’s my professional opinion that you are not medically fit to return to active duty. You’ve made vast improvements since we started working together but I don’t think you will ever pass the physical army readiness tests.”
My stomach spasms and I worry I’m going to throw up all over the floor.
“You’re serious?”
“As serious as the asshole who shot you from behind.”
“FUCK!” I stand and throw the chair across the room .
I can’t believe this. My whole world is crashing down. Just when I thought I had everything I ever wanted. Everything I’ve longed for all these years.
Maybe Maya’s dad was correct all those years ago when he said I’d never be man enough for Maya.