Un- Sober

July 18th

Mel.

It's July 18th and it's been fourteen days, since my face was pummeled. It has pretty much healed up, minimal bruising.

As soon as I get out of here I'm going to the dentist to get my molars fixed. I am shallow and thankful my front teeth didn't get knocked out too!

Xander is at work and so is dad and I'm headed to physical therapy to be tortured again. Ugh!

I'm wheeled in front of my physical therapist 'Dr Davis' and the nurse leaves. He's young, super attractive and funny.

Totally the kinda guy I would hit on. If I didn't find his hands touching me repulsive and if I didn't have Xander who checks all of my little boxes of desires.

"Good afternoon Ms Landry, ready to get started?" He's chipper and smiling and seems eager to torture me, sick fuck!

"Well, you seem gung-ho to make my day miserable so I guess so." I really, try very hard to not be bitter when I get to PT but theres just something about the pain that makes one aggressively angry.

He chuckles, sadistic asshole. "If we don't do the therapy, you'll limp terribly, do you want to struggle to walk your whole life, Ms Landry?" Ugh, no I don't, I want to wear high heels and dance again.

I sigh and uncross my defensive arms.

Please just don't touch me, that's really what I want to say. "No, I don't want to limp my whole life, I have fifty pairs of high-heels waiting for me to get home!"

He laughs this time and rolls his little chair closer. Fuck, here we go, he leans down and grabs ahold of my ankle and I flinch, stifling the impulse to kick him. "Relax, we're just starting with the stretches. They don't hurt that bad!" He's right, the stretches don't hurt, I just can't stand the feeling of his hands rubbing across my ankle and calf.

Fifteen miserable minutes of stretching and posture endurance later, it's time for me to stand. Dr Davis wheels me up to the thingy I call the bridge because it's literally like a flat bridge with railing. I have to walk back and forth four times if I can, two days ago I couldn't because it just hurt too damn much.

Since I want to get the fuck out of here I'm going to make it happen today! I grab ahold of the hand rails and despite not wanting to be helped, actually I really, really just don't want Dr Davis touching me but he has to support me standing up for liability reasons, of course. "Good, now take it easy!" He encourages.

I'm dying, my legs are trembling and I'm on the verge of tears when I make it to the end of the walkway for the third time, I hop to turn around, too scared to rotate my hip even a little and I'm met by Xander, standing on the other side with his hands in his pockets, black button up shirt that's rolled to his elbows, three buttons undone at the collar, showing off glimpse of his ink and a pair of tailored steel grey golf pants, he legit looks like a demi-god; nah, he's straight up god.

He grins and reaches one hand out. "Hey Shrimp, you're doing a great job, come here and give me a kiss!" If that isn't motivation I don't know what is. I smile but then quickly wince as I take the steps needed to reach my prize.