𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳. Even being born right next to the cruel and sick crime life never changed the charismatic and positive Mia who wanted to help change the messy world she formed part off.
Becoming a nurse at the age of 25 and joining her d...
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A few days later
"When is he supposed to get here?" I ask Mia who is setting up the bars.
We ended up canceling the session on Sunday since my legs were still pretty swollen and I could barely move. I spent the last few days back in the wheelchair and today I was finally able to go back to the crutches so Mia thought it was time, in her words "physical therapy is important you can't miss more sessions." And she is right, they do help so I agreed.
"Anytime now." She looks back at me with a smile.
Since I opened up about what happened to Isabella our relationship has gotten a little better (doing that was probably one of the hardest things I have ever done but she deserved to know and I had to let it out). And even if I still find it difficult to express what I feel or think I'm trying and thankfully, that seems to be enough for her.
I wish I could give her more I really do but it's difficult, words don't come to me as easily as they do to her, she always knows what to say, how to make me feel better... I'm not good at that. There's so much shit inside me, a lot of stuff I'm hiding, things I fear she would hate me for if she discovers them. That's why I can't give her what she gives me, I have to measure my words, and the information I share because I'm too scared to hurt her.
"Hey, if you aren't feeling well we can postpone it." She says leaving the bars behind and getting closer to me. "Do they still hurt a lot?" She kneels in front of me and puts my joggers up to check.
"Not as bad as before but the phantom pain is really kicking in." The inflammation reduced but the pain is still there and the worst kind of them.
"Are you sure you don't want some pills?" She tries for the hundredth time.
"You already know I don't Mia," I reply slowly a little tired of the question.
"Okay, sorry." She nods and stands up again. "If you need the weed just ask, it seemed to work last time and it's been a few days so it should be fine."
The weed had indeed helped and I would kill for some right now but I want to wait at least a week. I don't want to risk becoming dependent.
"If I need it I will tell you," I assure her so she can stop worrying.
"Your pain tolerance is truly amazing." She laughs silently knowing the pain is killing me.
"It's really the only option I have." And sadly that's true, my pain tolerance is basically what I rely on at the moment.
"You wouldn't have to if you just-" The doorbell sounds and she stops leaving the room to open the door. "Saved by the bell!" She shouts so I can hear her while opening the door.
"What?" Hunter asks confused as he enters.
"Nothing sorry, I was talking to Carlos. He is being... well he is being himself." She says closing the door and walking back into the room with him following.
