Almost Home

Chapter Eighteen ~ Easton's POV

The exercises are getting monotonous.

I'd been going to Joshua, my physical therapist, for a little over three weeks now and though I can see the difference it's making, it doesn't make the exercises any more entertaining.

Although, when he'd told me that I could start running again, that I could begin to do an actual exercise regimen as opposed to the bicep and hand muscle exercises he'd been having me do, I nearly cried with relief.

All I'd wanted to do since the surgery is run.

They'd taken my stitches out, leaving nothing behind, but that ugly, jagged scar across my inner elbow.

Since then, I'd began a workout regimen strenuous enough to get me back in the shape that I was in pre-accident, but not strenuous enough to hurt my elbow.

I'd walked a fine line as I discussed with Joshua what I would do.

We'd decided on physical therapy throughout the week and, on my own time, a steady run to help me out.

It'd been almost a month since the surgery and I'm surprised at how quickly things seem to be coming back together.

I never imagined that, weeks later, I'd be working on my range of motion, but as Josh takes my arm and guides me through some more exercises, I can't help but smile.

I'll be back on the field before I can blink.

Better than before, even.

After physical therapy, squinting into the bright afternoon sun, I head towards my car.

Just as I expected, it's hot enough to fry an egg on my dash, but my grumpiness that tries to take over fades away the moment that my phone begins to ring.

I know who it is before I even get it out of my pocket and sure enough, when I swipe to answer the call, Carly's bright face fills my screen.

She's outside, I can tell - her already bright hair made even brighter by the sunlight and her eyes their usual puddles of honey as the glare hits them.

I don't realize I haven't said anything, too busy looking at her until she smiles and asks, "What?"

"Nothing," I return her smile, "I was just-"

"Staring," she interrupts me and I can see, even through the screen, her cheeks turn red, "You were staring."

"If you're expecting me to deny that, we're going to be here for awhile."

She tips back her head and laughs, the sound like church bells ringing in my ears.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"I'm trying to tan," she frowns, pulling a pair of sunglasses over her nose from where they rested on the top of her head, "It's not going to work, I know. I'll end up burnt by the end of the afternoon."

"What do you have to lose?"

"Layers of my skin," a slight grin twitches at her lips, "My healthy, wrinkle-free skin when I turn forty."

I laugh, but make no further comment.

If Carly burns as easily as she says she does, she might not be wrong.

Instead, I hold my elbow into the camera's frame, "I'm getting there."

I called her the moment that I got my stitches out, so she's been updated on my progress nearly everyday since then.

"Did you just get out of physical therapy?"

I nod, "Josh thinks that I'll be working on new exercises starting next week."