Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Love those.”
“Yeah. Listen, I wanted to call and wish you the best for today.”
“Thanks, Mad Dog. Appreciate it.”
“I’ll give you a shout later.”
He hung up, and I looked in the mirror. I’d had my hair cut, and my scruff was tight to my face—the way Katy and Gracie liked it. I studied my reflection, noticing a few new gray hairs and some wrinkles around my eyes that hadn’t existed before the accident. I ran a hand over my head with a grimace. I had lots of scars both inside and out that I would carry with me always.
The past two weeks had been intense. New physio, gait training to learn how to walk again, plus additional leg strengthening. Counseling—alone, and with Katy. We worked through a lot of issues my behavior had brought up for us as a couple, and we planned on continuing. Randy helped me deal with my anger, and then we started on my history. He made me see how I still allowed my past to dictate my behavior at times, and we were now working on that together.
It was going to take a while.
I slid on my suit jacket and flexed my shoulders. It felt a little tight with the added muscle I had put on thanks to Aiden and Colin. I would have to get some new suits made or lose some of the new layer of muscle.
I was sure Katy would vote for new suits. She was enjoying the new muscles—every chance she got.
Her voice interrupted my musings. “Can I help with those cuff links?”
I turned slowly and smiled. “Perfect timing, Mrs. VanRyan.”
She handed me a mug of coffee and slid the disks in, snapping them into place. She grinned as she ran her hand down my tie.
“My favorite.”
“Big day needs a big tie.”
She frowned. “A half day—right?”
I stroked her cheek. “Katy, I’m good. I swear. Alan signed off on this, Colin gave his okay, and I’m ready. If I get tired, I’ll come home. I won’t get there until ten, and the car is scheduled to pick me up at five. Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got it.”
“I do worry.”
I slipped my arm around her and pulled her close. “I know, and I love you more because of it. But it’s all good.” I kissed her head. “I’m okay now, so you can relax.”
She sighed, some of the tension leaving her body.
Katy had her own scars left from the accident. I’d started walking on my own around the neighborhood, going for longer periods of time every day. She worried every time I walked out the door. One day, I was so lost in the thoughts in my head, I sat down on a bench and I lost track of time. I was gone for over two hours. She had sobbed with relief when I got home, her body shaking with the force of her tears as I held her and apologized. I had forgotten my cell on my dresser, and when she couldn’t reach me, her panic had overtaken her. Now I made sure my phone was with me and I checked in.
We both had to recover in our own time.
She stepped back with a smile. “You look good.”
I winked. “I know.”
She shook her head, walking out of the closet. “Oh, go fuck yourself, VanRyan.”
I threw back my head in laughter.
There was my Katy. My smart-mouthed, beautiful wife.
I grabbed the cane leaning against the dresser and followed her.
The car pulled up outside The Gavin Group building. I drew in a deep breath, feeling oddly nervous. There was no reason to be nervous. I had been working from home the past couple of weeks. At first, I sat in on a few calls with Graham, Jenna, and Adrian. Then the BAM boys got in touch directly, and I began to work. I spent a few hours every day on a new campaign, which meant I was teleconferencing daily with them, the office, and many of the staff at The Gavin Group. They saw my face, they had already expressed how pleased they were to see I was well enough to work, so it was all good.
But they hadn’t seen me walk. I looked at the cane clutched in my hand. I needed it to keep my balance. My gait was better, although still not perfect. I couldn’t walk long distances yet, or drive. I got tired easily, and my pacing changed when I did. Still, I was able to get rid of the walker I despised and use a cane.
I recalled the day Katy handed me a gift of a cane. It was handmade, dark wood with stylish trim and my initials etched into the curved handle.
“I had it made especially for you. The gentleman hand-carves them to your height, arm, and leg length.”
“I don’t plan on using it for very long,” I informed her, raising my eyebrow.