Boundless Love

Feeling Bad

Charlotte's POV...

As I approach Levi's room, I catch Emma hastily walking out, tears streaming down her face.

"What's wrong Emma," I ask her.

"Nothing," she lies. "I have to get back to London, I have so much to take care of, I... I... Just can't be here," she sighs, lowering her head.

"Emma, look at me," I calmly demand.

She hesitantly raises her eyes towards me. I understand the look on her face. She's ashamed to be leaving and confused about pretty much everything. She thinks he's no longer the same man she fell in love with, not physically anyway, and now she's left to fight a moral battle with what may or may not be the correct thing to do here. She has an image to uphold, part of the not so fun perks of her job, and her leading man is permanently altered. Now she's trying to figure out if her love for him is enough. I've seen this happen to many couples after one has suffered a life-changing injury... not exactly to this extent, but Hollywood or not, this is common. All I can do is remind her that this is just one of the obstacles that they will both learn to overcome together and with time.

I look directly at her and hope my next words sink in, "That is still Levi in there."

She looks down at the floor again then back up at me as I continue. "I know it's terrifying seeing him like this, but each week will get better, he will get stronger. You'll learn how to help him and things will be more comfortable between you. He is still the same person."

Her mood swiftly changes; my words offended her somehow.

"No, he is NOT the same person!" She fires back at me.

I'm in shock by her response, her voice is harsh and she rushes the words out, "He is not the same! He can't do anything on his own, he can't even eat or go to the bathroom! He's wearing a diaper and needs someone to wash him, I don't want to do that for him, he's supposed to be the one taking care of me!" She cries out. "He's always been the one doing things for me, I don't know how to take care of anyone!"

"You'll learn how, he will help you both learn how and I can help you," my attempts to convince her are slipping away.

She then takes a deep breath, lets out a long sigh and calmly says, "I'm sorry, I know I look like a bad person, but I just need some time. This all happened so fast, it's a lot to process."

I do my best to reassure her and remain neutral in my opinion of her, "Emma, you're not a bad person. Take the time you need, but please promise you'll come back and see him and give yourselves one more chance before you make up your mind."

"Okay, I will," she promises and slowly walks out the door.

I contemplate whether I should give Levi some time to himself before bombarding him with therapy but decide it might be better to keep things going, keep him distracted.

I knock on his door before cautiously entering his room. He keeps his attention towards the opposite window when I greet him. He stays quiet as I explain to him that I'll be doing his massage therapy and start kneading into his left side, since he's content with staring out the window towards his right.

The massage starts with his shoulder and upper arm, struggling a little as my small fingers have a hard time grasping around his perfectly defined muscles. His arm flinches a bit as I manipulate his elbow then his wrist, carefully massaging into every pressure point. I don't bother trying to strike up a conversation because I know it's better to leave him in his own thoughts. I go about massaging his left hand and fingers next and suddenly pause when I feel his fingers slightly squeeze mine in return, not willing to let it go. He's barely been able to move his left hand at all, so this is good. I wait for a moment, then he turns his head to look at me.

My thoughts now focused on his strikingly handsome features. I haven't really looked at him closely up until now and I know I shouldn't be either, but he's irresistibly attractive. I realize why all the ladies ogle over him, why he resembles the perfect movie star. His dark hair is wavy on top and shorter on the sides. A small amount of stubble appears over his strong jaw line from not shaving in the last few days. He has full pink heart shaped lips and when I move my focus towards his strikingly bright eyes, I also notice how watery and blood shot they are... he's been crying.

I can almost feel the emotions portrayed through his big  beautifully shaped orbs. The brilliant shade of aqua penetrates right through my soul, showing me all the pain he's carrying and my heart shatters for him.

With pure sadness in his voice he asks, "Do you think she'll come back to me?"

I squeeze his hand back with both of my hands and give him an encouraging smile, "I hope so," I tell him. I really do. He shouldn't be alone in this, the person he loves should be by his side.

He turns back towards the window and I finish with his left side. He doesn't protest when I turn on some music. I know we aren't going to talk much so it's nice to have a little background noise. I move to his right side and continue moving and massaging his arm. My gaze is drawn to him again and I can see his eyes have dried up as he shifts his stare from the window. His captivating blue eyes now wary, as he studies my face.

Earth to Charlie, I say to myself, blinking quickly, and forcing myself to look away. I break the silence by going to the corner of the room to grab a small machine.

"This is a nerve stimulator," I explain to him, showing him what all the wires are for.

"I'm going to attach these wires to your arms and legs and the machine will send out impulses," I tell him. He has me all flustered for some reason and I can't let that happen.

"We've got about an hour until dinner, so I'll leave this on and come back before it's time to eat."

"What? No, wait," he nervously says.

I look back at him with curiosity, surprised when he speaks for the first time after not communicating for the last hour.

"Can... can you please stay ...I don't want to be alone," he slowly asks. He's hurting and he's vulnerable and his parents are at their hotel. He genuinely wants someone to be here with him. I feel bad for the poor guy, no one deserves to be alone.

"Of course, I can stay," I let him know. We spend the next hour trying to find a program to watch on the TV. He doesn't engage in any conversation, but I realize he only needs my company. I know what stage is next for him, and I will do whatever I can to help him get through it.

Thankfully, his parents arrive in time to help him with dinner. I need to catch up with a few of my other patients this evening. I know Nate and Sarah will occupy his time and he needs a shower, so plenty to do. He won't be alone I happily convince myself.