“That prince charming isn’t going to swoop in and save the day. I had to start taking care of myself,” she said, wishing that she’d figured that out without the painful lesson.
But honestly, it had been the best thing that could have happened to her. She’d stopped screwing around and got her act together. She got a job working at a physical therapist’s office and settled on nursing when she realized that she could do something meaningful with her life. She also realized that she wasn’t meant for a happily ever after and stopped hoping for more.
“You made a mistake.”
“How so?” Sloane asked, leaning back against him.
“This is what you’re meant to do with your life,” Chase said with a firm nod.
“Tormenting my favorite patient?” she asked, making his lips twitch.
“No, helping people fight their way back,” he said, making her frown.
“Isn’t that what I already do?” she asked, watching as another patient came in.
“No, right now you do a job that makes you miserable,” Chase said, and she couldn’t agree more.
“I miss the job,” Chase admitted softly, taking her by surprise since he didn’t seem to like to talk about his old life and she didn’t think that it was her place to push him to talk.
“Have you thought about going back?” Sloane asked, shifting on his lap so that she could look at him.
Shaking his head, Chase said, “There’s nothing to go back to,” as he tightened his hold around her.
“You could teach,” Sloane said, worrying her bottom lip as she watched him, noting the way that the muscle in his jaw clenched as he shook his head.
“It’s been over a year. I let my certification lapse,” he said, slowly exhaling as she sat there, debating telling him about that line that she’d crossed only to be saved when the nurse called his name.
“Let’s get this over with, Pookie,” Chase said on a resigned sigh as he helped her to her feet, not really sounding all that happy about being here.
Not that she could blame him, Sloane thought as they headed toward the back-exam rooms where he would have to endure being poked and prodded while he answered the same questions that they asked him every time. As much as she wished that he could skip these appointments, he needed them. They had to monitor his pain medication, the swelling around his spine and to make sure that he didn’t cause any more damage to the nerves.
When the nurse took a left instead of a right and headed toward the office instead of the exam rooms, Sloane took one look at the nurse’s expression and immediately regretted making Chase keep this appointment.
*-*-*-*
Ten percent…
He had less than ten percent chance of walking again, Chase thought numbly as he sat there, trying to wrap his mind around everything his doctor said, but his mind kept coming back to that one statement, to the one thing that was making it difficult to take his next breath.
God, this wasn’t fucking happening, Chase thought, clenching his trembling hands into fists as he tried to keep it together until they were home so that he could lose his fucking mind. Ten more minutes, he told himself, forcing himself to take another breath as he closed his eyes and dropped his head back against his seat, praying that this was a fucking joke because he honestly wasn’t sure how much more he could take before he finally hit his breaking point.
Not fucking much, Chase thought, unable to help but frown as he opened his eyes and–
“Not fucking happening,” he bit out before Sloane had a chance to finish putting the minivan in park.
“And why’s that?” Sloane absently asked as she reached back and grabbed her backpack from the backseat.
“Just take me home,” Chase snapped, refusing to say the words that would make this real.
“I will,” Sloane said, making him relax until she added, “right after you do your P.T.”
“I’m not fucking kidding, Sloane. Take me home,” he bit out, watching as she climbed out of the car and shut the door, leaving him sitting there struggling not to lose his fucking mind.
It was over.
God, it was all over, Chase thought, feeling sick to his stomach as he dropped his head into his hands and tried to imagine spending the rest of his life in that fucking wheelchair only to feel a fresh wave of terror tear through him. A year ago, he’d accepted the fact that he’d never walk