CHAPTER 44
Harvey
“Tell us, Claire. Harvey said you had things you wished to address,” Dr. Lee says a mere two weeks later.
I’m sitting in his office on the couch next to Claire, who put a bit of distance between us when she came in after me and sat down.
I haven’t seen her since our date, and that’s been the hardest part in all of this.
I hadn’t planned on asking her to give me more time when I saw her at the grocery store. It wasn’t until our date when she spoke of her work and how well she was doing that I knew I had to do right by her and admit that I might need more time.
I want to process everything before I dedicate myself to her.
“Why don’t you start by telling us how you felt that night…when he professed his love to Gemma by text and you were told to leave?”
She chuckles nervously. “Ah…” She fiddles with her fingers, so I take her hand, hoping to take some of the anxiety away. “I knew he still loved her, but to have him confirm it and…put her needs above mine, it was hurtful.” She stares at me before continuing. “But I’m over it. They both apologized, and I’m willing to let it go if I can see that he’s moved on.”
“I see,” Dr. Lee adds. “And how do you think he’s doing so far?”
“I think he’s doing great.” She squeezes my hand. “I didn’t expect him to get better overall so soon, but I did wonder…about his confidence. The way he sees himself worries me. I guess I wonder if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Dr. Lee seems to ponder her question. “I think you’re helping him plenty. The way he sees himself is a result of the accident, and with time, he’ll be able to work on that and the situation will ameliorate. Healing isn’t linear. It has mountains and valleys and can take you all over the place. But I’m pretty adamant that time can help heal most wounds.”
Claire nods, and Dr. Lee continues. “He’s improving. He’s changing habits that no longer serve him, and therein lies his power.”
It feels weird being talked about in third person as if I’m not here. But if this is what Claire needs, then I’m all in.
That Saturday night, I’m in bed, completely and wholeheartedly exhausted. Work was difficult this week. It was harder for me to be social, and PT was even more challenging.
McKleen’s been pushing me, and I’m essentially walking around the rehab center with my new collapsible crutches. The goal is to lead me toward ambulation and ultimately to use my wheelchair only when necessary. We’ve been working on this the past few months.
I’ve been going up and down the stairs with handrails in the building on my crutches, and some days my best is top-notch and other days my best looks much different.
Even though I should’ve been able to walk again post-accident with rehab, I had lost all hope that it would actually happen for me, that I’d be walking around on crutches with ease.
Stefan keeps telling me to let go of the thoughts that say I look ridiculous on crutches, instead telling myself that this might lead me to walk again somewhat normally someday.
He’s not wrong.
Weirdly, it feels strange to use them instead of my wheelchair. As if I’m the puppet of a show and everybody’s watching my next act.
My next fall.
I’ve walked without crutches before at home, so they’re there for safety until I know for sure that I can walk longer distances without using them.
The stairs though? They’re challenging.
Not only am I out of shape endurance-wise, but my bone density and muscle mass are shit at this point.
I’m essentially starting from ground zero.
After a few years of minimal activity and limited movement, my body literally screams at me to stop and sit down. But I focus on the fact that I’m now walking around with more stability and that the stairs will strengthen my muscles.
Before falling asleep, I think over my joint therapy session with Claire and our short conversation as she drove me home. Once she dropped me off, we hugged, but that was it.
I know that this is what I asked of her, but it sucks. So I reminisce about our memories together to keep me satisfied until I can see her again.