Page 17 of Hold Me Instead
The crisp, chilled air snapped against Charlie’s skin. She tugged at her sweater, surprised how unaffected she’d been on her walk over. “I left my stuff at the clinic,” she said, turning toward the park.
“Oh no, no.” Amber grabbed Charlie’s arm. She marched them in a half-circle to face River Parkway. “If you go back, next thing I know, you’ll be texting me from home.”
Not a bad plan.“But my wallet,” Charlie said.
“Walter’s known us since we were in diapers. He won’t let you go thirsty. If you still haven’t added credit cards to your phone”—Amber gave Charlie a side-eye, then shook her head—“I’ll spot you tonight.”
“Face it, Amber will get you there no matter what,” Cleo said as she wrapped her sweater closed, skirt blowing around her.
“You at least need to eat something,” Amber protested as she tugged Charlie along. “This’ll be good, though. We’ll come up with a plan to help you manage Zachary.”
Amber was right—Charlie handled things smoothly when Daniel was out of the office in the past. Unfortunately, it was hard enough finding relief veterinarians to step in when they had planned vacations, let alone when someone was sick. Logan Fletcher often filled in, but from time to time, they had a new face around the office. She could treat Zachary like a new employee. It had been years—enough time had passed that they could start over. They didn’treallyknow each other anymore.
A trick-or-treat banner stretching across the cobblestone roadthwippedin the breeze, and strands of hair whipped her face. She brushed at her cheek, her hand slowing, remembering his soft touch, the warmth of his fingers. His focus on her face. The clench of his jaw as their skin slid together in the smallest of places, though she felt it zing through her entire body. How quickly her mind traveled to what it would be like to reach up and hold his hand there, to lock eyes, to trace his lips.
She blinked rapidly, coughing to disguise her uneven breathing. As much as she preferred to be curled up on her couch with Toothless and a bowl of popcorn watchingThe Officeplay episode after episode, going out was a good idea. She needed to reset. Get her shit together. Steel herself against the week ahead. Her crush on Zachary was in the past, and what mattered was the practice. To keep it running for Daniel, herself, the patients, and the community.
And to prove to Zachary she could handle it.
***
Inhale.Fourteen and a half. Sixteen if she counted the lights. With her eyes closed, Charlie knew that’s how many ceiling tiles stared down at her as she lay on the physical therapy table. It had become a calming technique over the years of her vaginismus treatment, but it couldn’t quite calm her today. Not when she knew what waited for her at work.
Zachary Lee.
Exhale.She fanned her face and flapped the patient gown as she fought off immediate sweat. It had been a while since she’d had one of her spirals, their frequency lessened by psychotherapy and the anxiety meds she’d finally started. Her stress was high since Daniel’s heart attack, with thinking about him and putting in nearly fourteen-hour days, checking labs, messaging clients, and catching up on notes. Zachary working in proximity could short-circuit her. Her brain already struggled to connect the dots between her high school crush and the irritable, sexy man—Like, hello, Time. You did nice things with a person’s physique. But she felt him assessing everything that needed tending to during his stint at the practice.
A knock sounded, jolting Charlie back into regulated breathing.
“Hey there, Charlie. I have a student shadowing today. Do you mind if she joins your appointment?” Ali Porter peeked into the room.
“Sure, no problem.” Charlie took another deep breath as she stared at the ceiling, mentally preparing.
Her physical therapist blew in with a focused and determined energy.
“Charlie, this is Morgan. She’s working toward her degree as an OBGYN. Morgan, this is Charlie, a patient who’s been with us for a few years now.”
Charlie smiled back at the young woman, who appeared at her side. Morgan wore sky-blue scrubs, her chestnut hair pulled back and golden-brown skin free of makeup. She leaned against the wall, effectively giving Charlie space.
“Thanks for letting me join today,” Morgan said.
“Of course,” Charlie replied.
This sort of training didn’t bother her. In fact, it made her feel like she was contributing somehow. Ali ran a successful full-service physical therapy clinic in the city, one of the few offices where pelvic floor treatment was available.
The widespread belief that a woman’s pain was “normal” and could be fixed with medication or “dealing with it” ran deep, and finding actual proper care was difficult. Charlie had heard it plenty of times over the years. If she reflected on it, the reality made her vibrate with anger. That didn’t even include dealing with insurance, like her recent procedure, where nondoctors denied coverage for something her obstetrician recommended she have done, simply becausetheydidn’t think it necessary. Charlie knew the word Botox is what threw them. It angered her that they would turn down something to help her medically, even after appeals, simply because in their minds they linked Botox to elective vanity care.
Ali set her thermos on the side table and rolled a stool next to Charlie. “How are you?”
“Doing well.” Charlie smoothed the gown needlessly, her knees bent over a bolster.
“How’s the body?” Ali asked as she opened Charlie’s file, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Her gentle demeanor and no-nonsense approach made the environment comfortable and safe.
“Body’s good. Doing my stretches, some yoga.” Charlie tapped her thighs, surprised at the rush of nerves. She’d been seeing Ali for years, started off twice a week for appointments, until she could wean off to weekly, then every other week. Now she was down to once a month, aside from this—a follow-up to her recent Botox injection.
“Bowels?”
“Still normal.” Her work with Ali helped her body relax and ease up on stress all around.
