Page 25 of Deprived No More

“Yeah. My left leg has been more swollen. I can’t feel it, so I can’t tell if there is any pain.”

This immediately makes me grimace. I’m not sure why. I know the facts. But regardless of what this man did to me, he’s still someone I cared about once.

“It even looks a little different… the color, I mean,” he adds.

Stepping to the foot of the bed, I reach down to touch his leg and assess his pulse. My stomach is doing back flips.He’s just a patient, Kat. He’s just a patient.The leg is pink and warm but appears redder than his right leg. Lifting it slightly, I examine it for any sign of a wound or obvious infection. I don’t see or feel any nodules. Moving higher, I evaluate the back of his knee similarly to how I assessed his calf. Nothing. Placing the leg back down, I look up, and my breath catches. His deep brown eyes are searing into me. I have to take a step back.

“Kat, please.”

“Please, what?”

“I’m just overwhelmed seeing you. I’d never hurt you. I-” He turns his face from me, staring at the blank wall beside him. What is he thinking?

I’m suddenly awash with morbid curiosity. What has his life been like for the last eight years? Does he have anyone? Melanie doesn’t breathe his name. His name is persona non grata among everyone at the fire department. If anyone from there is in contact with him, I’m sure they know better than to share that piece of intel.

My heart again feels torn. Feelings I haven’t encountered for years are surfacing. I have enough on my plate at home, I certainly don’t need to go back there.

“I’m ordering a doppler of your leg. Are you on blood thinners now? Since you’re-”

“Permanently in a wheelchair? Yeah.”

Trying to gulp down the awful anxiety I’m feeling in this moment, I press on. “Well, hopefully, this is nothing. I’ll write you some antibiotics in case it’s the start of infection if there’s no clot.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles, no longer making eye contact with me.

Why do I suddenly feel like the bad guy here? This is so uncomfortable. “Can I get you anything?”

His eyes flash to mine in a second. The heat is back, but I can’t understand what’s behind it. Is he angry at me? Himself? Is he entertaining thoughts he had of a sexual nature years ago?

“No. Thank you.”

My limbs are quaking. I try to put one foot in front of the other, so I can quickly head out of his room to the safety of my little workspace.

“Kat? You okay?”

I look up to see Donovan, one strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder as he’s headed for the door. I can’t even put words together. I need some water.

“Kat?” His bag hits the floor, and he grabs my arms in both of his big, strong hands and gives me a shake. “Talk to me. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Our eyes lock, and it’s as if he can sense something has just happened. “Mark.”

“Oh, shit. Kat. Is that the patient the rehab center sent over?”

I just nod, still trying to tamp down these unsettled emotions from yesteryear.

“You have to know-”

I throw my hand up to stop him. “There’s no way you would’ve known. I can’t explain how I’m feeling. It’s not fear. It’s… it’s something akin to guilt.”

“Babe. You had nothing to do with this. This was all him.”

“I know. But it hit me. I’ve been granted redemption. For all of the bizarre things that have happened in my life. The choices I made. I have the brass ring while he’s all alone and will never walk again.”

“Kat. You didn’t do anything wrong. You had no control over things you did under the influence of medication. You handled your situation the best you could. I’m not saying anyone deserves the lot Mark’s been dealt. Hell, I don’t know much about him except that he had a rough start in life, so he came across as a pompous ass because of the huge chip on his shoulder. But nothing excuses what he did. He could be dead or in jail right now. Don’t take on his issues because your heart is too big to know where to draw the line. He hurt you. Fuck, he hurt a lot of people. This is his penance.”

“I know you’re right. It’s just hard seeing someone you used to care about look like that. It makes me sick.”

“I get it. I just pray you never lose kids to drugs or alcohol. If it’s this hard for you to see him like that after all he did to you, can you imagine what those parents go through day in and day out?”

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