***
Things were a little tense during the ride home. Gareth had stared out the window and hastily left us when we arrived back at City Towers. Lucy and Nic had focussed their attention on Alexander right before we dropped them off at their house. And Bryce had been quietly pondering but still tenderly touching some part of my body at all times, whether it was my shoulder, my arm, or my leg.
As soon as we were back in the apartment, I got dressed in my gym attire as my physiotherapist was due to make a house-call in a matter of minutes. Bryce had made his way to his office, but not before making me a heart-shaped sandwich and setting it on a plate in the middle of the dining table. I smiled at his sentiment. Even in his frustration and sometimes anger toward me, he could still find a way to let me know he loved me.
The buzzer to the door sounded as I bit down into my sandwich-of-love. “Coming,” I muffled with a mouthful.
I grabbed my crutches and headed for the door, opening it up to let in Tim, my physiotherapist. I’d had a couple of sessions with him already and found him really easy to get along with. He was also quite helpful and extremely professional. Tim was in his mid to late twenties, tall, shoulder length caramel hair, dark brown eyes and athletically built. I’d also found out during our last session that he had a fiancé and a two-year-old son.
“Hi, Tim. Come in.” I hopped backward, clearing the door way to let him through.
“So, how’s the foot?”
“Good, although my upper thigh is tight and sore.”
“Yeah, that will happen. You’re no longer using those muscles like you should be,” he explained as he made his way down into the lounge like he had done last time. “I’m going to get you to start riding the exercise bike today, to build up strength in your leg muscles and to get your blood flowing properly again.”
He dropped his bag on the floor and opened the bi-fold doors. “Come on, let’s get to it.”
I spent fifteen minutes on the bike on a low setting, then with Tim’s assistance and guidance, did some weights to strengthen my upper legs. After that session was complete we went back inside.
“Now before I go, I’ll get you to lie down on this mat here, and I’ll stretch out your legs for you.”
Tim rolled out the yoga style mat and helped me position myself on my back. He kneeled down at my feet and took a hold of my foot, removing the moon boot. “Have you put any pressure on it yet?” he asked as he gently felt the tender area. Urgh! Stop touching my foot, I hate it. Why didn’t I break my finger, or nose even...okay, maybe not the nose.
I winced. “No, not really.”
“Well this week, I want you to put a very small amount of weight on it a couple of times a day, but not enough so that it hurts. Pain is not gain in this situation.”
He shuffled forward, having one knee pushing against my arse and his other foot out beside my body to steady himself—kind like he was about to propose. Then, lifting my leg into the air, he pushed his body against it, stretching my hamstring. “Feel the pulling?”
“Yep,” I struggled to say, feeling the strain on my leg. I ignored the stretched ache of my muscles by continuing to talk. “So, how’s your son?”
“Good, although he thinks his bedroom wall is a giant piece of paper,” he answered with a roll of his eyes.
I laughed. “Tell your fiancé to get some ‘Magic Erasers’, they live up to their name.”
“Sweet. I will.” He pushed my leg closer to my head just a little bit more. “You feel that? Is it a good stretch?”
“Yeah,” I awkwardly mumbled again.
Just as I answered, Bryce stepped out from behind Tim, his hands in his pant suit pockets.
“Hi,” I groaned, while straining as my leg was pushed into my abdomen, making it difficult to speak.
“Hi,” he answered sternly while holding his hand out to Tim and introducing himself, “Bryce Clark, Alexis’ partner.”
Tim let go of my leg but pushed his body harder into me so as to not lose the tension in my stretch. He reached his now free hand out to shake Bryce’s. “Tim,” he answered as he gripped Bryce’s hand. “Alexis’ physiotherapist.”
I noticed Bryce’s eye twitch as he looked down at our position on the floor. He’s jealous. My Mr. Possessive Clark is jealous. Then again, I wouldn’t blame him. If Tim and I weren’t wearing clothes or on the floor for the sole purpose of stretching, one could think we were attempting the art of Kama Sutra. Hmmm Kama Sutra and Bryce all mixed together in a big ball of sexual Play-doh. I must try that.
I smiled up at him, letting him know I was aware of his unease. I didn’t do it to rub salt into his wounds. I did it to reassure him that everything was fine and that I felt his jealously was cute. He didn’t see that meaning behind my smile and glared at me.