Chapter 3
Declan
The moment I walked into Erik’s treatment room, he said, “You look tense.”
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
That had become my refrain and, if I said it often enough, maybe it would be true.
He raised a sassy eyebrow at me.
“Your shoulders are set higher than usual and your gait is stilted because you’re holding yourself stiffly. Your mouth can tell me you’re fine but your body is saying something different.”
I sighed. “You’re the worst person to try and lie to.”
He came towards me and helped me to ease out of my outer layer of clothes.
His touches were gentle, almost as though he were stroking my skin, but not quite.
I always felt as though I could feel the ghost of his touch all over my body, like he had a dozen hands touching me at once, even though that was ridiculous.
“Why don’t you tell me the truth, instead?” he asked gently. His voice was as soft as his touch.
“I—” I thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know why I’m tense.”
Erik smiled. “That’s good.”
“It’s good that I’m tense for no reason?”
He led me over to the treatment table and got me settled on it as usual.
“No, it’s good that you acknowledge that you’re tense. And you didn’t say it was for no reason, you said you didn’t know what the reason was. We have a whole hour to try and work through that.”
I kind of regretted admitting anything at that point, but I’d learned that Erik had an inevitability about him that caught me up in a current and swept me along, safe and strong.
His hands worked my muscles and he encouraged me to move my body under his direction, holding me and correcting my posture when he needed to.
We had been going for ten minutes before he asked the first question, and it wasn’t the one I expected.
“When does Sonny get here?”
“Saturday morning. He’ll drive over early to miss the traffic.”
“What are your plans for the weekend?”
“He wants— We’re going to the lake to skate. And, yes, I know I can’t skate but Sonny can and he loves it. We used to go there as kids and spend hours on the ice. We haven’t been in years, though.”
“What are you going to do while Sonny skates?”
“I guess I’ll find somewhere to sit and watch him.”
“You won’t get bored?”
I prickled with annoyance at the implication. “No, I won’t.”
“It’s just it sounds like Sonny wants to go skating and you have to do nothing.”
“I won’t be doing nothing, I’ll be watching Sonny skate.”
We stayed silent for a while after that and I stewed on the feeling that was simmering inside me, although I didn’t know why. It sounded as though Erik thought Sonny were being selfish and I hated that he thought that. He had no right to criticise Sonny, who was generous to a fault.
“Sonny said we didn’t have to skate. I offered to sit there while he had a go.”
“Oh,” said Erik, and it was not the apology for doubting Sonny’s goodness that I wanted.
That’s what made me carry on, trying to make Erik understand.
“He said he wanted to go for a walk, actually. It’s always beautiful around there and there’s some lovely paths that loop around the lake. Do you know it?”
“I live round there. My cottage is right on the east side of the lake, beyond the trees.”
I knew where he meant. It was almost as though there were two lakes, connected by a strip of water, and the second lake was smaller, surrounded by trees and grasses and it always looked swampy and inaccessible all year.
Even in the winter, when the lake froze, it was never a good place to skate because the surface was so irregular, dipped and rutted with weeds.
Nobody ever went there. The paths lopped right round the trees and was much prettier.
“It’s nice there,” I said.
“Yes, it is. It’s very picturesque.”
“Hey, maybe you could show Sonny around,” I said, suddenly realising that it would work out perfectly. “You could both walk all the way around the lake and still go skating.”
Erik didn’t answer and the silence stretched out so long that I grew uncomfortable. I had to think back over what I’d said.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to tell you what to do. It was just an idea. I thought you both might enjoy it.”
“Don’t you want to walk around the lake a bit?”
“I—”
And that, right there, was why I’d been so tense all morning.
Because Sonny wanted to walk round the lake and I was fucking terrified.
It had been snowing for a week, and the temperature had dropped to fucking freezing, and that was why the lake had frozen enough to skate on.
It was also why I’d had my dad drop me off for this appointment right outside the door to the building, less than three metres from the front door.
The entrance was gritted so there was no ice or snow, but the rest of the world around us?
Covered in slippery, crunchy, uneven snow that made me break out in a cold sweat at the thought of stepping on it.
Erik had waited for me to answer, and he was looking at me in that way he had, full of kindness and understanding. He wasn’t rushing me, wasn’t impatient. He was giving me time to reply.
“Never mind,” I said.
The soft touch of his fingers across my forearm made my hair stand on end, prickling up with goosebumps.
“Tell me,” he said softly.
I couldn’t tell him my fears about being alone with Sonny, of him seeing me weak and unstable and losing respect for me. Of him spending more and more time without me in the city, of us growing apart and him calling me less and less…
Somehow, though, I managed to croak out the question, “Do you think I’d be able to walk around the lake?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“I mean now. Even though it’s been snowing.”
Erik considered. “The paths from the car park are salted so they will be safe to walk on. If you’re talking about the paths that wind around the whole lake, I’d be more cautious.
Some of them will be clear but not all of them and, the further from the skating part of the lake you are, the less likely they will be clear.
You’d have to be careful to place your foot down so that it doesn’t slip from under you, but anyone walking on snow needs to do the same. ”
“Maybe,” I said.
I wasn’t sure. Somehow, since getting out of hospital, my ability to judge my own strength was way off. Some days I’d feel really fit – other than the leg, obviously – and other days I felt like I could be knocked over by a kitten.
It left me feeling unsure.
I didn’t want to get outside and then discover that walking on the snow was harder than I’d anticipated. It would ruin Sonny’s fun if I fell or if I had to turn back and not go with him after all.
And I really wanted to go outside with him.
“Sit down,” said Erik. “You can get dressed and we’ll work out a way you’ll feel confident going outside on your date.”
“It’s not a date!”
“No? Sonny wants to take a romantic walk around one of the most beautiful places in the countryside and you don’t think that’s a date?”
“He never said it would be romantic.”
Erik quirked an eyebrow at me. “Are you telling me it wouldn’t be?”
I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. Because I wanted to go for a romantic walk with Sonny. Love of my life. Only… I couldn’t. Not now.
Erik tried to interpret my silence. “Maybe you’re not interested in him that way.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“Why not?”
I reached down for my shoe and jammed my right foot into it. I had to hide my face as I admitted, “Because he deserves someone else.”
Erik stood still, the sudden silence in the room around us seeming oppressive, like water closing in on us. When I could no longer pretend I was fussing with my laces, I had to sit up and look Erik in the eyes. He met my gaze, steady and calm and filled with compassion.
“Who does Sonny deserve?”
“Anyone.”
“Anyone but you, you mean?”
“Someone not broken.”
Erik made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat.
“You’re not broken. The rest of your body has healed incredibly well.
You’re not able-bodied the way you were before and I’d never diminish the trauma of being in such a life-changing event and having to learn to move in a new way, but I see plenty of patients with less range of movement and less strength than you and not one of them considers themselves to be broken. ”
I swallowed. “Sonny deserves—”
“What?”
“Someone perfect.”
Erik made another sound in his throat. “Maybe you should let Sonny decide what he wants.”
I had to swallow down the sudden urge to sob before I was sure my voice would come out as cleanly as I needed it to. “Do you usually act as a therapist and relationship councillor for your patients?”
Erik smiled, meeting my eyes again, finally. I hadn’t realised that I’d been leaning towards him, wanting him to look at me, acknowledge me.
His voice was soft. “You’d be surprised. Helping people reconnect with their bodies can bring up a lot of things.”
I thought about that as I stood, following his instructions in a distracted way. His hands were so strong and sure, and I felt secure in his care.
“Do you really think I can walk safely outside?”
“Yes. If you’re careful, there’s no reason at all you should slip or fall.”
“Sonny’s not strong enough to lift me, if I do fall.”
Erik put his hand on my shoulder, a warm and comforting weight. I wished for a second that he’d slide his arms around me again and encompass me completely but he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He was a professional and I was just his client.
When he looked at me, though, I felt a connection. A tremor of understanding and compassion I’d never received from any of my other physios.
I watched his lips as he spoke.
“What are you doing this evening? We could go for a practice walk around the lake so you can see what it feels like to walk on snow and those uneven paths. I’ll be beside you to make sure you don’t fall and you can definitely make it back to the car.”
“Are you sure? You’d do that?”
“It would be a pleasure,” he said, and I watched the way his lips formed those words. His mouth was small and his lips were plump, like ripe cherries.
Clearing my throat, I took a step back. “Thank you. A practice walk would be really helpful.”