“What’s wrong?”
“I’m s-s so happy,” I hiccup.
“My sweet girl.” he cups my chin and pulls me in, devouring my mouth as he squeezes the back of my neck, holding me in place. If I wasn’t ready to melt into a puddle, I am now. I want to stay here, but I know too much pressure on his legs for too long is never a good thing. I ease off his limp cock and relish the feel of his seed inside me. We’ve regained our intimacy and survived another blow in the battle to become us once more. I turn off the water, and step out, towel drying and feigning nonchalance as I watch him carefully exit the stall. My heart is bursting with pride and love. Slowly, but surely, he’s coming around.
***
“You want to tell me what’s on your mind?” I ask sitting back on my heels as I lower J’s leg.
“It’s been six months today, since the accident.”
“Is that why you’re only half invested in the workout today?” I ask silently fuming. Physically he’s doing great. His body is strong. He’s got excellent eating habits, a steady bathroom schedule, a plethora of knowledge and enough practice of everyday skills to allow him freedom. Mentally is where he’s lagging in development.
“I still can’t feel anything below the injury, B.”
“You thought you would by now?” I guess.
“I don’t know what I thought. Just not this.”
“What did Dr. Simmons say?” I know, but I like to make him work through the process on his own.
“It’s still early to make a call either way, but I may be at my full capability level feeling wise when it comes to my injury.”
“And does that change the fact that you need to keep your strength up?”
“No.”
“Then get your head into the workout,” I demand.
“You act like this is easy.”
“Have I ever said that, J?”
“No, but you’re unyielding.”
“No, I’m doing my job, and you’re still not ready to admit that this is your life now.”
“How could I ever forget?” He pushes up into a sitting position, and I crack my neck.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Then tell me what my problem is, B, please.”
I ignore the sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “You’re still holding back, waiting for what I don’t know. You have one foot in the present, and the other God knows where. You’re getting in the way of your own progress.”
“It’s so easy to sit on the other side of things and say that.” He becomes defensive.
“You either want to live the best life you can the way you are, or you don’t. I’m not here to force you to do anything. I thought I was trying to give you back your life—”
“How are you going to do that? Do you have a time machine or the cure for paraplegia?”
“And that’s the only way possible?”
He looks away.
“I know you’re disappointed, but lashing out isn’t going to help anything.”
“Lashing out. What you think I’m throwing some sort of tantrum?”