Chapter 13
Roxanne
“How is he, Doctor?” I ask Lenny’s surgeon as we both peer through the window of his room, our patient fast asleep in his hospital bed.
“As well as can be expected,” she laments with a tired sigh. “Though we tried our very best, it pains me to say that the damage done to Mr. Walker’s knee was just too severe.”
“I was afraid of that,” I mutter in defeat. “So does this mean he won’t be able to play professionally anymore?”
“I’m afraid not even recreationally,” she explains, disheartened. “Not if he wants to ensure his quality of life.”
It’s even worse than I thought.
“Have you told him yet?”
She nods, a forlorn shadow crossing her face.
“Yes. I gave Mr. Walker the news earlier this morning when he woke up. Unfortunately, he didn’t take it well. He got so agitated that we had no choice but to sedate him. I doubt you’ll be able to talk much with him today. Maybe not even tomorrow.”
“I’ll swing by tomorrow anyway. I don’t want Lenny to go through this alone.”
Dr. McCarthy turns to me with a smile and says, “I must say, Dr. Seymour, I’m very impressed with your patient care. I’ve seen many psychiatrists and therapists walk through these halls in my residency here at General Mass, but very few have shown such a level of commitment to their patients as I’ve seen you do with Mr. Walker. I’m glad he found such a dependable shoulder to lean on. He will definitely need all the support you can give him.” She gives me a quick pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving me alone to watch over my slumbering patient.
“Oh, Lenny. What am I going to do with you?” I whisper, disheartened.
Hockey is all he has.
At least that’s how he feels.
He was having such a hard time dealing with his recovery already.
And now that he knows he might never play again…
Let’s just say it doesn’t bode well for Lenny’s mental well-being if he had to be sedated after learning such lousy tidings.
I’m not sure playing card games with him will improve his mood either. What I am sure of is that it’s going to be a long road to recovery, both mentally and physically. I pray that he doesn’t let his melancholy get the better of him. But even if it does, even if his depression gets worse, then I’ll be right there with him, doing my best to help him through this hurdle any way I can.
Staring at Lenny sleeping all day won’t magically make him better, so I might as well return to the office and devise a realistic strategy that will actually benefit him.
As I stroll down the hospital corridor, my mind is consumed by thoughts of Lenny. So much so that I collide with a massive brick wall after taking a sharp turn at the end of the hall.
Only it’s not a wall.
It’s Caleb.
Déjà vu.
My bag drops to the floor on impact with a loud thud, the contents inside spilling out, scattering in every direction.
“We really have to stop meeting like this.” Caleb smiles from ear to ear as he falls to his haunches to help pack up my things.
“I… didn’t… think you remembered,” I stammer in complete astonishment at his recollection of our first serendipitous encounter, which left him with the tedious task of picking every last item off the floor and placing them back inside my bag.
“How could I forget?” He continues to smile, taking my hands in his to help me up.
“You never mentioned it before.”
“I’m mentioning it now. I never forget a beautiful face, Roxie. Especially yours.”
I’m so gobsmacked by his words, paired with a rising heat in his eyes, that it takes me a minute to realize that he hasn’t released my hands from his.
I clear my parched throat and pull my hands away, straightening my spine and holding my head up to look every bit the professional that I am.
“If I didn’t say it before, then allow me to say it now, Mr. Donovan,” I make a point to clearly enunciate his last name so he knows I mean business. “Neither flattery nor flirtation will win you any brownie points with me.”
“Are you sure?” He snickers with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Because it’s kind of hard to take you seriously when you blush like that any time I do flirt with you.”
“I am a grown woman, Caleb. I do not blush.”
“No?” he says, brushing his knuckles lightly on my heated cheek, taking the very air out of my lungs.
I slap his hand away and give him a stern look.
“I see that you’re in high spirits today. Am I to assume that it’s because you have solved your little problem?”
I know it’s a cheap shot and extremely unprofessional of me to highlight something that could be triggering for him. Still, it was the only thing I could come up with that might restore some kind of power dynamic balance between us.
“Ha, Roxie. There’s nothing little about me.” He smirks, coaxing me to cross my arms over my chest imposingly. “But now that you mentioned it, I did find a surefire way to fix the issue.”
A bone-deep disappointment that I have no business feeling assaults me with his confession.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I lie. “I guess your phone really does come in handy when the occasion calls for it.”
“Actually, I didn’t use it.” He smiles proudly. “In fact, I deleted all those numbers. Don’t need them anymore.”
My expression alone must say that I don’t believe a word he’s saying because the next thing Caleb does is make a show. He pulls out his phone and unlocks it, handing it over to me.
“Don’t believe me? See for yourself.”
With my brows furrowed, I start scrolling through his phone, shocked to see that, aside from his family, teammates, and other sports-related names, the only female name in his contact list is me—under Foxie Roxie, no less. Usually, I would reprimand him for the nickname, but I’m too stunned to reproach him about it.
“But then… how… I mean how—”
“How did I sort out my little problem, as you so eloquently called it? I decided to take matters into my own hands. Pun intended,” he drawls and then surprises me further when he leans in so close that I feel his warm lips brush my earlobe. “And all I needed was the right muse to get me there. Want to venture a guess who I’m talking about?”
To my chagrin, I feel my cheeks heat up even more at the salacious statement.
Did Caleb Donovan just imply that he … that he … came thinking of me?
“There it is,” he coos in my ear before pulling away, his cheek lightly caressing mine.
It takes me a good long second to step away from him, but the damage is already done.
I open my mouth to say something, anything to regain my power back, but Caleb doesn’t give me a chance.
“I’m kind of bummed that I have that lame-ass photoshoot tonight and will have to miss our session. I was really looking forward to telling you every little detail about how you helped me through this particular rough patch. Guess we’ll both have to wait until Monday for the play-by-play.” He winks. “Have a nice weekend, Roxie. I sure intend to.”
And with that, he’s off while I stay rooted to my spot, stewing in my own embarrassment.
Caleb has always been a defiant, but today… he’s crossed a line.
Even if what he said is true, he should have never confided such a sordid thing to me, especially in such a public setting.
Not wanting to give the odd interaction any more thought, I decide to push it out of my mind and do my best to spend the rest of my day not thinking about Caleb Donovan.
Of course, it’s easier said than done.
Especially when my first session of the afternoon is none other than Nathan Wilder, his best friend and the new captain of the Guardians.
“How’s he doing?” Nathan asks as we approach the end of the session.
“Who?” I feign ignorance.
“Come on, Doc. You know who I’m talking about. Caleb. How is he? Are you getting through to him? Is he getting better at all?”
“You know I’m not at liberty to discuss another patient’s progress,” I remind him.
“Does that mean he’s not?”
“Nathan…”
“I know, I know. You can’t talk about it,” he grumbles in frustration.
“No, I can’t. But I can see that it’s weighing on your mind. So what I can do is talk to you about how you feel. I know the two of you were close until the accident caused a rift between you.”
“I didn’t expect it to.” He looks downcast. “But yeah. It has.”
“Do you know why?”
“I guess…” he struggles to say, “I was just angry at him. I’ve been angry at him for quite some time now.”
“And why do you think that is? Where did this anger stem from?” I insist, wanting Nathan to make sense of his complicated feelings towards his friend.
“I’m ashamed to say it,” he replies with his head bowed down.
“Safe space, Nathan. Remember?”
“I know,” he mutters, his left leg twitching nervously, a sure sign that his anxiety is spiking just by talking about it. “It just… it just makes me feel like shit to admit that I… that I…”
“That you blame him for what happened to Jack.” I finish for him since it’s obvious he can’t.
When his shoulders slump, and his head bows even lower, too ashamed to look me in the eye, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.
“I don’t want to blame Caleb. I mean, if I’m being rational about it, Jack was the one driving carelessly that night. Not Caleb.”
“True. But Caleb isn’t the one in a coma fighting for his life—Jack is.”
“Yeah,” Nathan admits ashamedly. “Caleb makes for an easy target, doesn’t he? And I was all too quick to blame him. The fuck kind of friend does that.”
This time, I remain silent, letting Nathan, by himself, make peace with his own actions.
“This whole thing fucking sucks. I know he’s hurting. He didn’t need to lash out at everyone for me to know that. I should have been his friend, and instead, I turned my back on him.”
“There’s always time to make amends,” I console.
“Right. Amends. I’m not too good with those, Doc, as you well know.”
“I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’ve come a long way since you walked through my office doors last year. I’m sure if you open your heart to Caleb and tell him exactly how you feel, he’ll understand.”
He scoffs at that.
“Donovans are stubborn assholes. Not sure Caleb would accept my apology even if I tried.”
“And have you? Tried to talk to him, I mean?” I question further.
Nathan shakes his head.
“Like I said, I’m all messed up when it comes to him. I love the asshole. But…”
“You can’t forgive him for what happened to Jack,” I reply, saddened for them both.
“I’m trying. Fuck knows I’m trying. But every time I see Jack lying in that hospital bed, lifeless and unresponsive, I get angry. Which I know is my default setting when things I can’t control happen.” I smile at that, proud for him to have progressed enough to decipher his triggers on his own. “I know that’s my baggage, not Caleb’s.”
“I’m so pleased you referred to it that way. Like I said, you’ve come a long way.”
“Sounds like you’re proud of me, Doc,” he replies shyly.
“Shouldn’t I be?”
“I guess.” He shrugs. “But I can’t take all the credit. Lottie has helped me tons to figure out my feelings and shit. I mean… stuff,” he quickly corrects. “As have you. Not sure where I’d be without either one of you when life was kicking my ass left and right. I guess I got lucky.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it. You’re the one who has put in the work.”
“Yeah, well, I’m still a long way from where I want to be. Maybe that’s why I’m so torn apart by this whole Caleb thing. I’m just scared he’ll do something foolish without his support system.”
“More than starting a fight in a qualifying game?” I counter with a grin, only to have it fall flat with Nathan’s next words.
“One thing I’ve learned since I’ve been friends with Caleb is to never underestimate his tenacity for creating chaos.”
All I needed was the right muse to get me there.
Want to venture a guess who I’m talking about?
“Hmm,” I hum pensively, recalling our earlier impromptu encounter. “I’m inclined to agree with you there. Caleb can be—”
“Recklessly impulsive?” Nathan interjects with a sad smile. “He’s that and then some. That’s why I wanted to know if your sessions with him were paying off.”
“If you’re this worried about him, that means you still care for him a great deal. The more reason for you to reach out to him and get the answers you seek.”
“Like I said before, I love the idiot. He’s like a brother to me. He’s family. The thing is… they both are.”
When guilt and shame mar his facial features again, I start to understand the crux of the matter at last.
“Nathan,” I call out his name to gain his attention back on me, trying to divert him away from his guilt. “You can be loyal to both of them, you know? There is no shame in grieving for one friend while helping the other one out.”
“I know you’re right, Doc. Lottie keeps telling me the exact same thing. I’m just not there yet.”
My frown deepens at that.
He’s struggling.
Struggling with the decision of who he should give his loyalty and friendship to since, in his mind, there can only be one.
The friend who lies helpless and unresponsive in a hospital bed?
Or the friend that has done everything he can to push him away?
“Can I ask you a favor, Dr. Seymour?” he asks after a long, silent pause.
“Of course, Nathan,” I reply with a reassuring smile.
“He doesn’t know it yet, but there’s something coming. Something in the works that Caleb is not going to approve of,” Nathan begins to explain, with a pained look on his face.
“That sounds rather ominous.”
“It’s not. It’s something that happens all the time in sports teams. But just because something is expected doesn’t mean it won’t tilt Caleb’s whole world on its axis. I, myself, have had a hard time accepting what’s about to happen, but the GM and the new team owner aren’t worried about me. Caleb’s the loose cannon as far as they’re concerned.”
“Fair enough. What favor do you need then?”
“When shit hits the fan, Caleb is going to feel more alone than he is now. He’ll see enemies everywhere he turns, thinking that there isn’t a soul out there who has his back. I really don’t want him to feel like that. And I don’t want him to implode just because of those feelings. So, I guess what I’m asking, Doc, is don’t lose hope in him, okay? Right now, you might be the only friend he has.”
“But I’m not, am I? I’m his therapist. You’re his friend, Nathan. Proven by how you don’t want Caleb to face whatever is about to happen alone,” I explain, taking the tough love approach. “So instead of asking me to do this favor for you, maybe now is the perfect time for you to rise to the occasion and be there for your friend.”
“I want to,” he whispers, his features twisting in sorrow.
“But you’re afraid that you won’t be able to,” I finish for him again.
“Yeah. Isn’t that just goddamn awful to admit? If the tables were reversed, he’d be there for me in a heartbeat.” Nathan snaps his fingers to drive the point home. “Which just makes me feel even shittier.”
“Take your time, Nathan. You’ll know what to do when the time comes. I have no doubt that you’ll do the right thing for yourself and your friend when push comes to shove.”
“I hope so,” he mumbles, discouraged.
“You will. You’re a good friend.”
“Like I said… I sure don’t feel like one right now.”
“But that’s just it. Only a true friend would feel bad for not being there for the other. If you didn’t care so much, Caleb would merely be an afterthought for you.”
“Have you met Caleb Donovan?” He lets out a chuckle. “He couldn’t be an afterthought even if he tried.”
“No. I guess he couldn’t. He does leave an impression, doesn’t he?” I mutter more to myself than to Nathan.
“You can definitely say that.” Nathan chuckles warmly. “Jack used to joke and say that there exists a life before Caleb entered your world, and then there’s the one that follows—the two could not be more different.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.