Deception (Urban Fiction)

Chapter 2 - Path To Recovery

2 years later

Nevaeh's POV

"I should be dead," is a reoccurring thought that crosses my mind frequently when I make my visits to see my physical therapist.

My heart races just thinking about that night, especially when I regained my memory of all of the terrible things I had gone through. It felt like I had to relive every moment of hurt, deceit, pain, and agony all over again.

Stormi shot me a total of five times. It is a miracle that I am still alive, although sometimes I get a gut-wrenching feeling that he will come back one day to finish me off.

I honestly don't even know how I didn't bleed to death on the cold floor of that restaurant, or who even saved me that night.

All I do know is that I am not the same Nevaeh I was two years ago. I trust no one. For four years I was played by a man I was about to call my husband. I was fed complete lies. I believed in a fake persona of a person I thought I loved. How could I be so gullible? Maybe I did deserve this?

I promise myself from this day forward I will never put myself in such a vulnerable position with a man ever again.

"You're making tremendous progress Nevaeh. I believe you only have one more visit left," my physical therapist says encouragingly, which brings me out of my deep thoughts.

"Thanks," I say dryly, reliving all of the challenges I've had to overcome in my head.

When I woke up from my coma a year ago I was completely confused. I had suffered severe memory loss, and I was partially paralyzed for six months. I had to undergo multiple surgeries to get all of the pieces of the bullets fully out of my body due to small fragments breaking off when the bullets pierced through my skin.

Now a year later, I am almost completely physically recovered. I can walk perfectly fine, but I still go see my physical therapist for check-ups here and there, and I have gained all of my memory back.

Which, I wouldn't say is necessarily great, but I take this recovery thing one day at a time.

I suffer immensely from PTSD.

I now go to a therapist twice a week to work through all of the pain I've faced by losing everything and everyone I've ever loved. I even lost my apartment when I was in a coma. I couldn't pay my rent and had no one to help me out. So the apartment complex evicted me and placed all of my furniture and personal belongings on the curb for anyone to take.

So now, I'm living temporarily with my friend Harmony until I can get a place of my own. I reached out to her when I was able to be released from the hospital. She had absolutely no clue as to any of the tragic events I had gone through, but she was more than willing to help me when I asked.

"Alright, I think we're done here," my physical therapist says as she finishes writing information on her clipboard.

I nod and head towards the exit. I am glad to be almost done with physical therapy. In my heart, it feels like I have almost completed a small milestone. I am on the right road again to reclaim my independence.

Entering the parking garage I am greeted by a smiling Harmony waiting patiently in her car for my arrival. I walk over to her parking spot, swiftly open her passenger door, and comfortably get situated in my seat.

"Hey ma! how was it?" she asks in a sweet tone, while enthusiastically waiting for my response. "It was good," I say smiling excitedly, ready to be heading back home.

"I feel great. I only have one more session left until I'm freed from physical therapy," I say happily.

"Well, I think we should have a little celebration for all of your hard work and accomplishments... if you're up for it of course?" she says giving me a mischievous look.

"Girl, what are you planning?" I ask while shaking my head from side to side. Harmony always wants to find any reason to get all dressed up to go out.

"Maybe we can go to the club tonight?" she asks with a smile on her face. "The club?" I question her. "Yeah! I think it will be fun. You've been working so hard trying to get your life back together. I think it's time that you live a little," she says nicely, waiting for my response.

Part of me is tired of just lounging around the house doing exercises, or going to all types of different therapy sessions to attempt to put my life back together.

While the other part of me is very scared. I haven't been in that type of scene in a couple of years.

"I don't know about all that," I say, as I cross my arms, feeling very unconvinced.

"Come on Vaeh, I promise you it will be fun," she says giving me the puppy dog eyes.

I thought about her proposal.

I mean she did have a point. I can't just keep living the same ol' boring life every day. I do need some type of excitement.

"I GuEss I WiLl gO," I manage to say very drawn out and sarcastically. A very happy Harmony starts doing a victory dance.

"Great! I promise you we are going to have a bomb ass time!!!!!" She states excitedly.

"I really hope so," I mumble quietly under my breath, as Harmony starts the car up and heads back to our apartment.

To be continued...