"How's the pain today?" The doctor's white coat scratches at my exposed skin and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
"It's okay." It wasn't. It's been another week of resting and now I'm back for my weekly check-up with the doc hoping that the weeks go by like seconds that tick down until I can throw again. I've been going out of my mind, my body begging to let it get back to its rigorous routine.
I've done nothing but sit at home and get sucked into my phone. I read all the headlines with my name in them and instantly regret it. They're all questioning my recovery and my ability to bounce back. The comments on social media have been coming in by the hundreds every day, some wishing me well others hoping I die and don't come back.
Overall I'm doing really well.
"Well just keep up the rest and in a couple of weeks we can reevaluate your motion ability." She smiles a dull smile, a reminder of how depressing the whole idea of this is.
She finishes up the appointment and I breathe in the hospital's stale air the second the heavy door closes behind me. The right side of my body is extra sore today from the lack of sleeping well and every step I take brings a shooting pain to my shoulder.
I ignore it.
The vibrating in my pocket distracts me from the surprised eyes in the hallway as I pass.
"Hello?" I answer without looking at who's calling.
"Mason, Marie, and I are going up to Boston for the weekend. Don't bother waiting around. See you Monday." My dad's voice is firm and uninterested like calling me is a chore.
"Alright." He hangs up after that and it dampened my mood even more.
I am thinking of getting a small apartment close to the hospital so I don't have to spend another minute in the same household as that man. I can do this alone and I will do this alone.
The elevators ahead are to my left and in the middle of the open floor are a few tables and a small coffee bar along the back wall. This must be a small break area. I scan the tables unconsciously and stop completely when a flash of familiar red hair catches my attention.
Delilah sits alone with a hot cup of coffee on the metal table. She's engrossed in some fantasy book and by the biting of her lip, I can tell it's a good part.
The last time I talked to her was over the phone to apologize for my curt behavior. I was an asshole to her and she didn't deserve to be snapped at after just trying to help. When I called I expected her to be upset and cold with me but was met with her breathy pain-filled voice.
I make my way over to the table and her head whips up, looking surprised. She smiles at me and closes her book, dog-earing the corner of the page. That has to be some sort of crime in the book world.
"Hey," I say.
"Hi. How's the recovery going." A light blush of pink coats her pale cheeks and it makes my heart skip a beat.
God, I feel like a teenager in love again.
"Good, just had a check-up. More rest it is." I shuffle to the left as someone passes. "May I?" I point to the open metal chair across from her. Her eyes follow where I point and she nods.
"Good book?" I ask, once seated. My shoulder thanked me for it.
"Yea. I haven't read fantasy in a while so..." Her voice trails off and she clears her throat. "I'm just on my break so I don't have much time. Did you want to talk about something?" She furrows her brows and I want to run my thumb over the concerned crease.
YOU ARE READING
I Wish You The Best
Romance"Forever was a simple promise before it became a difficult task" Your first love is always the hardest to let go of, which is why Delilah and Mason had promised each other that after college they'd make it work. Unfortunately for them both, their fo...
