Chapter 23
Dom's POV
Bell is quietly watching out the passenger window as I drive her to the rehab center. There's never been so much distance between us. She is angry, there's no doubt about that, but needed to wake up. Life's short and you might only have today. I swerve the car towards the curb to get her attention.
"Dominic what the hell is your problem? Don't do shit like that."
"Ahh so you are in there." I poke her in the arm roughly.
"Stop it. Why you always have to be such a dick?"
"You love me and you know it. We're almost there."
"Yeah so. Not like it's going to make a difference. Get over it Dom, I have. I'm never gonna walk again. Too bad for me."
I jerk the wheel and slide the car next to the curb, "With that attitude, you're right. You're never gonna walk. Does anything matter to you anymore? If that's how you feel then I wish you would've gone to be Mom and Dad." I look away from the hurt in her eyes. My words cut deep. Just wish she would get it into her thick skull that she has so much to live for.
"I hate you," are the only words that pass her lips before the tears begin to stream down like a waterfall from her eyes. Her body wretches with each sob and her cries grow louder. What have I done? I don't want to hurt her. Tears begin to fall from my own eyes. I put the car in gear and pull back out into traffic.
We arrive at the rehab center minutes later. She takes a tissue from her purse and wipes her tears. Not a word is uttered as I pull her out of the car and carry her in through the glass doors. A man in a blue tracksuit greets us with a wheelchair. I ask Bell if she wants we to come into the back with her, but she shakes her head. I am banished to the waiting room to suffer through the next hour in silence with the echo of my words ringing in my head.
Bella's POV
What is his deal? He needs to stop pushing me. Always pushing, Dom's the leader or so he thinks. This is my life not his. He doesn't know how I feel or what it's like to wake up and not be able to move.
The physical therapist greets us as Dom carries me through the front door. Thankfully the guy has a chair and takes me away from Dom. I swear if I have to spend another minute near him I'm going to slit his damn throat.
"Hi, I'm your therapist Greg." His voice breaks my chain of thought.
"Nice to meet you Greg." He's very handsome in a surfer boy kind of way, shaggy hair and blue eyes the color of the ocean. I guess him to be around 6'3" and his body is nicely defined. I could grow to enjoy these sessions if he's gonna take care of me.
"I've read your chart and know all about what they scribble down, but I want to know how you feel. Tell me what the doctors can't." His voice is smooth and almost sweet. I like the way he smiles at me with his mouthful of perfect teeth.
"I can't move them. My legs." I put my hands on my thighs. "They tingle all the time."
"Well it's good that you can at least feel them. My goal is to get you moving again, but at your own pace. You can tell me when you think that we're going to fast and I'll slow it down. Ok?"
I breathe a sigh of relief. Greg is not going to put me through a boot camp style workout. "Sounds like a plan."
It's been six weeks since the start of my therapy and I've made some progress thanks to Greg. He guides me along the bars, whispering encouragement in my ear. With one arm around my waist, Greg holds his body close to mine. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as he softly hums in my ear. I turn my head to face and meet his gaze. I can taste him he's so close. Our lips are centimeters apart.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Dom growls from the door.
Busted. Greg pulls back from me and I stumble forward on the bars. Dom rushes over and takes me in his arms.
Dom's POV
Bell is quietly watching out the passenger window as I drive her to the rehab center. There's never been so much distance between us. She is angry, there's no doubt about that, but needed to wake up. Life's short and you might only have today. I swerve the car towards the curb to get her attention.
"Dominic what the hell is your problem? Don't do shit like that."
"Ahh so you are in there." I poke her in the arm roughly.
"Stop it. Why you always have to be such a dick?"
"You love me and you know it. We're almost there."
"Yeah so. Not like it's going to make a difference. Get over it Dom, I have. I'm never gonna walk again. Too bad for me."
I jerk the wheel and slide the car next to the curb, "With that attitude, you're right. You're never gonna walk. Does anything matter to you anymore? If that's how you feel then I wish you would've gone to be Mom and Dad." I look away from the hurt in her eyes. My words cut deep. Just wish she would get it into her thick skull that she has so much to live for.
"I hate you," are the only words that pass her lips before the tears begin to stream down like a waterfall from her eyes. Her body wretches with each sob and her cries grow louder. What have I done? I don't want to hurt her. Tears begin to fall from my own eyes. I put the car in gear and pull back out into traffic.
We arrive at the rehab center minutes later. She takes a tissue from her purse and wipes her tears. Not a word is uttered as I pull her out of the car and carry her in through the glass doors. A man in a blue tracksuit greets us with a wheelchair. I ask Bell if she wants we to come into the back with her, but she shakes her head. I am banished to the waiting room to suffer through the next hour in silence with the echo of my words ringing in my head.
Bella's POV
What is his deal? He needs to stop pushing me. Always pushing, Dom's the leader or so he thinks. This is my life not his. He doesn't know how I feel or what it's like to wake up and not be able to move.
The physical therapist greets us as Dom carries me through the front door. Thankfully the guy has a chair and takes me away from Dom. I swear if I have to spend another minute near him I'm going to slit his damn throat.
"Hi, I'm your therapist Greg." His voice breaks my chain of thought.
"Nice to meet you Greg." He's very handsome in a surfer boy kind of way, shaggy hair and blue eyes the color of the ocean. I guess him to be around 6'3" and his body is nicely defined. I could grow to enjoy these sessions if he's gonna take care of me.
"I've read your chart and know all about what they scribble down, but I want to know how you feel. Tell me what the doctors can't." His voice is smooth and almost sweet. I like the way he smiles at me with his mouthful of perfect teeth.
"I can't move them. My legs." I put my hands on my thighs. "They tingle all the time."
"Well it's good that you can at least feel them. My goal is to get you moving again, but at your own pace. You can tell me when you think that we're going to fast and I'll slow it down. Ok?"
I breathe a sigh of relief. Greg is not going to put me through a boot camp style workout. "Sounds like a plan."
It's been six weeks since the start of my therapy and I've made some progress thanks to Greg. He guides me along the bars, whispering encouragement in my ear. With one arm around my waist, Greg holds his body close to mine. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as he softly hums in my ear. I turn my head to face and meet his gaze. I can taste him he's so close. Our lips are centimeters apart.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Dom growls from the door.
Busted. Greg pulls back from me and I stumble forward on the bars. Dom rushes over and takes me in his arms.