20. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
Physical therapy was exhausting especially at this early stage in the game.
Each session started out with a walk on the treadmill to get warmed up.
After that it was an hour of doing memory exercises and reteaching himself how to get his brain to successfully tackle the fine motor skills he’d need to play his bass at the same level he was before the surgery.
Dressing himself was getting easier and doing things like buttoning a shirt took complete concentration to accomplish but he was seeing real progress each time he had a session.
The most challenging aspect of his recovery was the dizziness that continued to be a daily occurrence.
He hoped all of his hard work meant he was one step closer to going home.
“Come on, Rory,” Levi, the physical and occupational therapist, said to Bronx. “Focus on the lift, give it everything you’ve got and keep your attention straight ahead on the wall clock. It will help steady your balance.”
The guy made it sound as if Bronx was bench pressing two-hundred-pound weights when in reality what he was lifting was five-pound hand weights from a standing position.
Even that little bit of weight had him struggling to get his arms to do the task.
His muscles shook and his arms quivered like a young boy.
Bronx’s mother when she was alive could probably do a smoother lift with these five-pound weights than he was accomplishing.
But it wasn’t his mother who was recovering from brain surgery. It was him.
It was agreed in the beginning that Levi would use Bronx’s birth name to protect his privacy while they worked in the hospital rehab room.
Knowing he was just another guy exercising made it easier for him to focus on the tasks at hand and not who was watching him.
Once he was discharged to go home, he’d have all the privacy in the world.
He couldn’t wait until that day to come but for now, he had to settle for working with Levi in a lower level of the hospital and hope he wasn’t recognized.
Today Tony was sitting at the side of the exercise room at the hospital scrolling on his phone.
But every grunt or groan that left Bronx’s mouth had Tony looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
He knew his noises probably sounded sexual in nature, based on Tony’s consistent reaction to the sounds, but he was too sweaty and tired to give it much thought.
Doing anything that required exertion beyond what was required for these exercises was unlikely to happen until after he’d showered and had a fucking nap and Tony more than understood that.
But he loved the fact that Tony wanted to be there with Bronx overseeing his progress for himself. It gave Bronx something tangible to fight for because more than anything he wanted to relaunch the relationship he’d barely had time to start with Tony before the accident happened.
His hard work paid off because when he met with his doctors at the end of the week, they unanimously agreed Bronx was ready to go home and finish his rehab there.
Being pushed in a wheelchair to the front entrance had Bronx close to tears.
After what felt like months in the hospital, he was finally going home.
Best part about it was Tony was going with him.
They sat shoulder to shoulder in the backseat of a large SUV with very dark windows.
As they pulled away from the curb in front of the hospital, Tony laced their fingers together on the seat between them and his smile was as goofy as the one on Bronx’s face.
Bronx felt giddy with elation that he’d survived those weeks of hell but going home with Tony was the ultimate prize for the hard work he put into his recovery.
He knew that because when this first happened Bronx wasn’t sure if Tony would be able to remain with him or if Ventura would even keep him employed.
But the worst of those worries were behind them.
He glanced at Tony and his smile deepened. “I can’t begin to explain how much it means to have you sitting beside me holding my hand,” Bronx said in a whispered tone.
“You and me both,” Tony agreed. “While you were still unconscious I wasn’t sure how any of this was going to play out. I wasn’t sure if you’d be deaf or disabled or if you’d ever want to talk to me again. But sitting here with you and being able to touch you like this . . . it means everything.”
“Are you still blaming yourself for this?” Bronx asked, “Because it wasn’t your fault. We discussed it from every angle and it was one hundred percent my fault. I did this to myself, not on purpose, but the accident was all on me.”
“I know what you’re saying but, fuck, I still feel some amount of responsibility,” he answered.
Bronx squeezed his hand. “Stop it. I’m fine and you did nothing wrong,” he explained. “Today we put all of that shit behind us and start a whole new chapter together, and fuck, I can’t wait to get you home and hopefully . . . naked, at some point.”
“You’ll have to hold that thought for a while longer, rockstar,” Tony warned. “You’re scheduled to meet your physical therapists and nurse as soon as we get back to the house.”
“Fucking seriously?” Bronx complained. “Like that couldn’t wait until the end of the week? It has to be the first day I get home. Wonderful.”
Bronx silently glowered for a bit until Tony started laughing and then Bronx turned his angry glare at Tony.
“You’re progressing really well,” Tony pointed out. “The last thing you want to do is derail that by taking time off from the therapy.”
“Fucking hell. How much longer do I need to keep doing this? I’m better than ever,” Bronx complained.
“You’re a lot better than even a week ago but the dizzy spells are still happening,” Tony argued.
“Randomly but not very often,” Bronx said with bitterness.
“But they’re still happening,” Tony repeated slowly while enunciating his last word.
As Tony had warned, there were two physical therapists at his house when they arrived, one for strengthening exercises and the other would be for improving his cognitive and fine motor skills.
There was also a nurse waiting who would be on call for a couple of weeks—just in case the shit hit the fan, medically speaking.
“So much for being able to rest before the population of Los Angeles takes over my house,” Bronx grumbled.
“It’s three people,” Tony scoffed.
“In addition to six guards, and who the hell are all those other people in my kitchen and living room?” Bronx asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Tony said while he firmly wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist and his opposite hand gripped Bronx’s forearm. “Come on. I’ll help you upstairs to your room.”
“I can walk myself,” Bronx complained.
“I know you can but what happens if you get dizzy on the stairs?” Tony asked.
“I would hope you’d catch me,” Bronx said as the slightest hint of a smile lit his face.
“If you keep bitching I might have to reconsider this arrangement,” Tony said.
“You’d never do it,” Bronx chided.
“What makes you say that?” Tony questioned.
“Because you can’t wait to share a bed with me.”
“Is that so?” Tony teased.
“Yup, and I bet you’re chubbing-up right now at the thought of me naked and stretched across some very soft sheets,” Bronx said. His gaze dropped to the front of Tony’s pants and he was just about to comment on the evidence he saw when Tony lifted him to the next step to distract him.
“Looking at my dick only makes the situation worse, so keep on walking,” Tony scolded.
Bronx leaned in closer to Tony’s ear and stage whispered, “Told you so.”
The bickering between them hadn’t completely ceased but now there was a level of warmth and playfulness behind their barbs.
Honestly, it was good clean fun to ruffle Tony’s professional veneer.
Bronx loved that Tony didn’t take his crap and was quick to give it right back to him.
Tony wasn’t intimidated by Bronx’s antics, either.
But the unwavering care Tony offered him was always right there on the surface and he never did anything halfway.
If he was in, he was all in. That was a guarantee, and damn, if knowing that didn’t warm Bronx to his core.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Tony showed Bronx the new changes to his home to accommodate his physical therapy.
Although his bedroom had pretty much remained the same, his adjoining bathroom was now outfitted with metal bars on the wall inside the shower and also gripping bars attached to the side of the bathtub.
A spare bedroom across the hall was converted into an exercise room and had all the essentials Bronx would need to work out with his therapists.
It was ideal for what he physically needed to completely recover but he didn’t want any of it.
What he wanted was his old life back, an existence where he didn’t have any limitations, but one that included the added bonus of being in a relationship with Tony.
It was close to eight o’clock that night by the time Bronx had completed his meetings with his new team of healthcare workers and then had dinner with Tony.
His final challenge of the day was walking up the stairs a final time for the night.
Tony was already drawing him a bath while he sat on the edge of his bed and undressed himself.
He was hoping Tony would join him in the tub but he didn’t want to push it.
This had been a long day for both of them, first leaving the Houston hospital and then their flight back to LA, and as much as exhaustion was pulling him down, he knew Tony had to be equally as tired.
A few minutes later Tony walked back into the bedroom. He stopped in front of a very naked Bronx and grinned. “You’re rock hard,” he commented, eyes blazing with heat.
“What can I say? I’m happy to be home,” Bronx grinned shamelessly.