I did twenty tricep dips instead of just ten before I sat myself back down onto my feet. Then, I got brave. I put my good hip forward and pushed off, then pulled my bad to the front and stepped down onto my foot.
Grace’s eyes were alight with happiness as I gripped the railings beside me.
But oddly enough, I didn’t feel like I needed them.
“I know you feel it. I see it. Drop your hands, Hayden. Trust me.”
I looked up into her eyes as my hands fell to my sides. I stepped forward with my good hip again, then paused. This was it. This was either the pinnacle of what we’d worked for or it was going to fail exponentially. And I was tired of failing. I steadied my arms out as I pulled my foot forward, and I could feel the implant underneath my skin. Rolling steadily along as my muscles worked in my favor. I placed my foot in front of me and took my first unassisted step, then brought my hands back down onto the railings beside me.
Grace’s smile was so broad it shut her eyes.
“Good,” she said. “Really, really good.”
“What just happened?” I asked. “What did you do?”
“I harnessed the two things in life that are highly underrated,” Grace said. “The magic of good blood flow and the unwavering dedication of a man to his ego.”
I bit down onto my tongue as a grin crossed my face.
“That’s enough for today however,” Grace said. “You ready to get back to your room? I believe it’s almost dinner time.”
“Will you be eating with me?” I asked.
Her eyes fluttered up to mine as she ducked underneath the railing. She came over and hooked my arm over her shoulders, then slowly backed me out of the contraption that was helping me to walk. She helped me back into my wheelchair and I grabbed her hand, forcing her gaze down to mine.
“Grace?” I asked. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
My eyes danced between hers as she turned my question around in her head.
“Sure,” she said. “I’d love to.”
Chapter Fifteen
Grace
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Emilia said.
I embraced my friend as the two of us stood in our favorite cafe.
“Because we haven’t,” I said with a smile. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Grace. Come on. Let’s get some food.”
“The usual?” I asked.
“Is th
ere anything better?”
The two of us ordered our sandwiches and soups along with our favorite local dessert— cinnamon swirl holes. A cross between a cinnamon bun and a doughnut hole that made me salivate every time I walked by the place. We grabbed our teas and waited for our food, but I could tell something was on Emilia’s mind.
“Everything okay at the shop?” I asked.
“Oh yeah. Been busy though,” she said.
“Have you hired someone else on to help?”
“I was actually hoping to ask you about that.”