"I guess." I shrug and grab my stuff, "Guys, I'll catch you in a bit."
Lexie stands up and puts her tiny 110-pound body between mine and Judson's. Her long blonde hair swings in her ponytail as she grabs my arms.
"You don't have to go anywhere with him. If you don't want to."
She gives Judson a "go to hell" look. Her loyalty is adorable, coming to the rescue. I can tell she doesn't know if Judson is someone we can trust.
"I'm fine, promise. I'll call you in a little while." She pulls me in for a hug, and I walk out the door of the cafe with Judson on my heels.
We barely make it out onto the sidewalk before I lose my shit.
"Judson, what the fuck was that?"
He sighs, running his fingers through his messy hair. "I don't know, I didn't like how close he was to you."
"He's my friend! Which is a whole lot more than you've been here lately. I haven't seen you in a month, Judson." I cross my arms, crying. The tears fall quickly, but at this point, I'm pretty positive they are tears of anger. Not something I've dealt with in quite some time.
"I'm sorry Blake, Jay came to see me last week, and I've been… well, I've been…" He starts to walk faster, his behavior is becoming erratic. I stop on the sidewalk at my car door. He turns back toward me, wondering what I'm doing. I pull on the handle and slide into the seat. He grips the door to make sure I'm not going to close it.
"Can we just go home and talk?"
He is a wreck, and as much as I want to just tell him to fuck off and drive away, there is a small space of my heart that I know will prevent me from doing so.
"I can't. I have Physical Therapy."
I hold up my brace wrapped wrist in case he forgot.
"Can I go with you? Then we can go home?"
"Are you talking about my home or your home?"
He hesitates before looking at the ground. "Whatever you think is best."
I nod, and he walks around, sliding into the passenger seat.
He looks like he is a grenade about to go off and all I need to do is pull the pin. He is antsy and impatient, and I can feel that the words are about to erupt out of him.
"Blakely, I just want to…" I cut him off mid-sentence.
"Can we talk after therapy?"
I'm just not ready to go there yet. I feel like I should build a wall around my heart and guard it. He nods, agreeing that we can talk later, and is silent the entire ten-minute ride.
We pull into the lot of the doctor's office. He follows closely behind me as I walk inside. The receptionist is friendly, and I sign my name on the clipboard. She assures me that it will only be a minute.
My therapist comes to the door and calls my name, I expect Judson to wait in the waiting room, but he stands to his feet and guides me by the small of my back into the room. It's a decent-sized room with workout equipment and beds. We start by trying flex therapy, and no matter how many times we try, still nothing.
"We will keep trying honey, have you been feeling anything at all? Any numbness or pain?"
"Some dull pain, but nothing extreme," I lie, sometimes it hurts so bad I can't breathe.
"I have been reporting to your doctor about progress. He has mentioned that maybe you should see a specialist for additional surgery."
I roll my eyes, yanking my sweatshirt back over my head. "Another expensive surgery that probably won't even work."
Judson stands, "I think we would like some information for a specialist."
The anger builds in the pit of my stomach. He doesn't just get to come back into my life and make decisions like this.