ADDICTED

40

LEAH

We were two days from the gala. Today was James' first post-op evaluation and the gravity of the situation weighed on me from the moment I woke up.

James wanted to be relieved of the wheelchair but I wasn't so sure that would happen. His physical therapy was going well but he was nowhere near full recovery.

To occupy both of our minds from his awaiting prognosis, we spent the entirety of the drive to his appointment discussing the final details for the gala. I visited the venue twice already to go over the decor, table placement, event flow, and catering service with the committee and our vendors.

Even so, I felt stressed about the success of this event. If something went wrong, I didn't want to be at fault. So I tried to overplan everything and account for every possibility.

Guests with food allergies? Addressed. Guests with mobility issues? Resolved. Safety threats? Hired a security team. Parking? Rented out an entire lot and valet service.

Once we reached the clinic, I parked the Mercedes and hopped out to retrieve the wheelchair from my trunk. James had the passenger door open already as I wheeled the chair over. He had begun refusing my help so I watched him struggle to transfer his body into the seat.

After a full minute of huffing and cursing, James was in and we were off.

"They better let me use my legs," he muttered.

"It's only been three weeks," I reminded him. "You're still healing."

"I can move both legs just fine, thank you very much."

Halting, I stopped just outside the automatic doors. He looked back at me in question.

"Tell me you haven't been walking on them," I demanded.

James shrugged but refused to meet my eyes.

Un-fucking-believable. I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath.

"If you delay your progress any longer, you are hiring someone to bathe you," I said with a glare. "Maybe change your diapers too."

He waved me off and rolled himself into the lobby. Rolling my eyes, I stomped after him.

We checked in and waited to be taken back. The clinic was sterile and rather empty. We were the only people in the waiting room.

Once a nurse placed us in a room, the orthopedist immediately knocked. After a brief discussion, we were led to the X-ray room for scans.

The doctor went over the results with us carefully, pointing to bones and dark places. He then asked James to complete a few exercises.

"Well, I must say you're in much better shape than the last time I saw you," the doctor said with a wrinkly smile. "You should be alright to walk lightly with crutches. No more wheelchairs unless you're too stiff to move, but I want you to keep off your feet as much as possible. Continue with physical therapy and your daily regimen. If you notice any new pain that isn't associated with soreness, use the wheelchair until you can come in and see me." He eyed James skeptically. "Don't push it, okay?"

"Yes, sir," James said.

"I think so, son. You two are good to go. Call if you need anything."

After he left the room, James jerked his body towards me. My jaw was still on the floor.

"You can walk!" I cheered.

A massive genuine smile covered the entirety of his face. He had never looked so handsome to me than in that moment.