Chapter Twenty-Two
Keely
It's been almost a week since I got coffee with the girls.
The last few days, especially, have flown by, though I haven't seen Reeve as much as we usually do. I've been spending the days either working at Oakley's with inventory or at my uncle's helping my uncle rehab and paint the apartment above the garage.
He had new windows, updated the countertops and appliances in the tiny kitchen and replaced all the flooring with a laminate wood flooring that looks almost real.
He let me pick the paint colors and even put up a partition wall for where the bed is to make it feel less like a studio.
He didn't need to do any of that, but the project has actually been really fun to work on together, and we've bonded even more over it. By the time I make it back to the apartment at The Commons, it's usually really late and I end up passing out on the bed until the next morning.
Reeve has kept up phone calls and texts to check in, but our conversations are friendly and short. We haven't discussed what happens when I'm no longer his personal PT but instead a full-time franchise employee.
We'll still see each other--probably daily--walking through the halls--when we have our scheduled player check-in--or he needs to get taped up before a game.
But it will all be different and I can already feel it in the texts and the phone calls.
As I settle into bed, the events of the day replay in my mind. The sweet text from Jaxson confirming our date for Sunday and the restaurant that he booked. I told him after last Tuesday's game that I want to take things slow-- that I'm not interested in jumping into a relationship but that I'm open to dating casually and let things progress naturally. He agreed to my terms.
Tomorrow we hear if Reeve is cleared for light practice by the Hawkeyes doctor, and I leave my keys to this apartment and move the small amount of items I have left here back to my uncle's now that the paint fumes have mostly disappeared.
Tomorrow I go into Sam's office to sign my new contract. Sam told me yesterday that the job is mine and that hearing tomorrow about Reeve is just a formality.
Then I hear a sound coming from the floor.
The baby monitor?
I didn't realize that it had fallen down and got covered up with a pillow. Since he stopped having to ice his knee in order to sleep without the pain, I haven't needed it to check up on him.
"Keely? You there?" Reeve's voice comes through low and warm.
I hesitate for a moment, my hand hovering over the monitor. It's late and something about leaving this place tomorrow makes me feel a little emotional. I'm not sure if talking this late at night is the best option, but hearing his low bedtime voice is a guilty pleasure that I can't pass up, not when this is the last time we'll be able to use a baby monitor to chat in bed. I doubt the wave frequency of the monitors would reach my uncle's house all the way across town.
"Yeah, I'm here," I respond softly.
There's a pause, and I can almost picture him sitting on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair the way he does when he sits on the couch lazily watching TV with me.
"How's the apartment looking? I was going to see if I could drop by and see it today but Lake wanted to go over some new plays and then the guys all wanted to head to Oakley's for drinks," he says.
"It's looking really nice. I can breathe in the apartment without hacking at the paint fumes now. We've had to be careful about keeping too many windows open due to the moisture from all the rain. And it's been so cold that the paint doesn't want to dry as quickly."
"You move out tomorrow, right? Do you need help moving your stuff back over to Oakley's apartment?"
"That's really sweet of you to offer, but I only have a backpack left here. I've been moving everything over slowly this week."
I settle back against my pillows, pulling the comforter up to my chin. The faint glow of streetlights filters through my curtains, casting shadows across the room.
"I never heard how coffee with the girls went last week. How was that? I heard the girls are pulling Rowan into the group, too."
"It was nice," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "They made me an honorary member of their group. And yeah, it seems Penelope has plans for her that none of us know about."
I leave out the part where they all hinted that they think Reeve and I will end up together. The memory of their knowing smiles and suggestive comments is now starting to make my heart feel a little homesick... if that even makes sense.
"That's great," Reeve says, and I can hear the genuine happiness in his voice. "I'm glad you're finding your place here."
Another pause, longer this time. I listen to the soft patter of rain against my window, waiting for him to speak again.
"Listen, Keely," he finally says, his voice softer now. It's not lost on me that he doesn't call me Doc... or Keke... or Kees. It's Keely now. "I wanted to thank you. For everything you've done to help me. I couldn't have made it this far without you."
My throat tightens at his words. "You don't have to thank me, Reeve. It's my job."
"No," he says firmly. "It's more than that. When you walked into my hospital room and they told me that you were going to be my PT, it renewed my confidence in myself and my ability despite the prognosis I was given. I'm not sure that I would have had as much faith in myself if it hadn't been you standing at my bedside, squeezing my hand."
I close my eyes, fighting back the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "You're welcome. I'll always be on your side," I whisper.
"I know. And I'm always on yours. I want you to be happy. I hope you know that."
"I do," I say. "I agreed to go on a date with Jaxson on Sunday… I… I just thought I should tell you."
"Okay," he says simply.
The silence stretches between us, filled with unspoken words and the weight of what we can't have. I want to tell him how I feel and how much he means to me. But I know I can't. For his sake, for my sake, for the sake of his career and the team.
"Goodnight, Keely," Reeve says finally, his voice heavy with something that sounds like regret.
"Goodnight, Reeve," I respond, my voice barely audible.
I reach over and turn off the baby monitor, plunging the room into silence. As I lay in the darkness, I can't help but wonder what might have been if things were different. If I wasn't his physical therapist or if my father's past didn't hang over me like a shadow.
But as sleep finally claims me, I know that wondering about what-ifs won't change anything. Tomorrow, I'll become the Hawkeyes PT, and he and I will become co-workers...hopefully friends...but nothing more. It's all I can allow myself to be.