Educating Holden (Wishing Well, Texas #11) - Melanie Shawn Page 0,13

the right thing to do. It was my head that was trying to talk me out of it. What good could come from this living situation, besides the obvious: that I didn’t want to be a grown man who was moving back in with his parents?

My phone rang and when I looked down, I saw that it was Kurt and I thought about not answering. I knew that I should. But there was something stopping me.

Before the incident, I’d always faced things head-on. Well, except for one glaring exception. I’d never dealt with my feelings for Olivia. But other than that, I’d never put things off or tried to avoid things. Even if they were uncomfortable. Even if there was conflict. I handled my shit.

But ever since I woke up in that hospital bed, something had shifted in me. At first, I figured it was just because all of my focus and energy had been devoted to walking again. I’d ignored all other aspects of my life. Now that I’d achieved that, I really didn’t have any excuse for dodging phone calls.

“Fuck it.”

“Yeah,” I answered. It wasn’t my friendliest greeting but since I’d wanted to answer by asking, “What the fuck do you want?” I figured it was a happy compromise.

“You’re in Wishing Well.”

Kurt didn’t sound like he was asking a question, so I remained silent. I had no idea how he knew where I was, but it wasn’t like I was trying to keep it a secret.

“How long are you planning on staying?”

“I don’t know.”

“Were you planning on telling me where you were?”

“It looks like I didn’t have to.” It irritated me that he knew now. I’d always been a private person.

“I only know because your mom posted pictures of you on Instagram at some event.”

Great.

“When are you coming back?”

I looked at the duplex and thought about Olivia coming home alone. “I don’t know.”

“What about your physical therapy?”

“I’m fine.”

“I spoke to Dr. Leach. He said that you are at about sixty percent of your potential recovery. But, if you stop treatment, your progress won’t just stall, you actually have a very good chance of regressing. Which you know can happen anyway, even if you do everything you’re supposed to. You are walking now, but if you don’t keep up with your sessions, it increases the chances of your condition deteriorating. If that happens, the results could end up being irreversible.”

My jaw clenched and I closed my eyes as my head fell back against the headrest. I didn’t want to go to anymore PT sessions. Dr. Leach had told me the same statistic, but I’d figured that sixty percent was fine. If there was no way that I’d ever be able to ride again, what was the point of continuing them? That had been my thinking. But I must have blocked out the part about losing the mobility that I’d gained.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Kurt continued, “If you’re going to be there indefinitely, I’ll find someone in the area and set it up. Also, I got a call from the pharmacy that you didn’t pick up your last refill.”

“I told you, I hate that shit.” I’d been on the meds when it was absolutely necessary but now, I could handle it. And I’d seen what getting addicted to pain killers could do in my sport. They were addictive. I’d seen opioids ruin some of my friends’ and colleagues’ lives. There’d even been bull riders that had ended up taking heroin and overdosing. I wasn’t going out like that. Not that I had much of a life left, but I’d be damned if anything was going to have control over me.

It was probably why my feelings for Olivia had scared the shit out of me.

I thought I heard Kurt mumble something about me a being a stubborn SOB before he sighed, “Whatever, but Reed, one more thing.”

“What?” I snapped, more than ready for this conversation to be over.

“When I call, answer your fucking phone.”

With that not-so-friendly instruction, he hung up. Part of me felt like an asshole for ignoring him, but another part of me didn’t feel anything at all. It was strange that I could feel so numb, and so angry, and in so much pain, and hopeless, and apathetic all at the same time.

Dr. Leach had suggested I go talk to someone. He’d said that with all the changes that my body was going through it was normal for my brain to need help as well. It

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