Page 45 of Saving Grace

I can rattle off a ton of things I’ve lost, some more permanent than others. But never did I ever think not being able to be with the woman I want would be on that fuckin’ list. It’s twofold, and it’s my own stupid damn fault.

One, because I was an utter asshole when she first arrived. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have plans to stay.

Two, I will never be the whole man she wants and needs.

We sit in silence at the doctor’s office, waiting for my checkup appointment. We haven’t spoken a word since yesterday. I’m too much of a coward to ask. Not wanting to know if it’s because I crossed theyou’re my employerline. Or whether it’s our age difference. Or the worst option. She’s not into me.

That would fit, I guess. I’m no Great Reed Rawlins. No stoic, chip off the old block Hudson Andrew Rawlins. Just another middle child with a grudge big enough to see him enlist in the military to prove a point.

Look where it got me.

“Mackinlay?” the nurse says at the end of the hall, file in hand. I stand and Grace follows.

“You want me to come in with you?” she asks, worry lining her face.

“I’m good, won’t be long.”

She pushes up a soft smile and wanders back to the chair she’s been sitting in for the last hour.

The nurse fills the silence along the long stretch of hallway with mindless chatter. Something about the weather. I tune it out.

“Here we are, doctor won’t be too much longer.” She waves a hand, and I walk into the room and lower myself onto the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

Five minutes and about five hundred knee jumps later, the doctor enters and shuts the door. His white overcoat is crumpled. He looks tired. His dark hair is peppered with grey, but he beams a genuine smile as he sits in his chair. “How have you been, Mack?”

“Good, making progress.”

“Wonderful. Do you have some help around the house? I think the last time I saw you, you were in between housekeepers?”

“Yep, have help.”

The words burn my tongue. Grace is so much more than the help. She’s my constant companion. My sounding board. My biggest cheerleader. The only person who’s managed to get my ass into gear and stop the ongoing pity party that held me captive before she came along.

“I’m glad to hear it. However, we have the results of your last scans. And I’m afraid it’s not the best news. Preliminary tests were inconclusive, but the damage to your lower back and hip may mean you never recover the full range of motion, not without extensive physio.”

“Will I be able to ride again? It’s kind of an occupational requirement.”

“A fall could be disastrous for your mobility now. So it’s a maybe, at best.”

“Fine.”

“Let’s take a look at your range of motion.” He stands and gestures to the small bed. “Hop up for me, will you?”

I slide up onto the bed and lay my head on the plastic-covered pillow. His hands grip my ankle, pushing my leg up, bending it at the knee before laying it out to one side. My hip clunks. But there is no pain like there was weeks ago.

Progress is progress.

He tests the other side. When he is satisfied with what he finds, I slide off the bed to my feet.

“This is your last visit with me. You can see your GP for pain meds. Butonlyuse them if needed. Your recovery will only stall if you become reliant on them.”

Not likely.

I haven’t taken anything since the Ferris wheel. Didn’t feel like a necessity after that point. My focus has shifted. My goals, loftier. My routine, stricter.

That angry man who hated the world and barely tolerated his loving family was left somewhere on the second go round on the wheel lit up with rainbow lights. When the only thing that hurt was seeing Grace broken. It was as if someone slapped me awake.

My eyes are wide open now.

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