Tender (Book 1 - Complete)

Chapter 16 - Jamie

If I thought that getting fitted for a prosthesis would be easy, then I thought wrong. I'd imagined myself stumbling my way into the clinic on crutches, having the artificial leg put on, and then walking out like a pro. Well, that didn't happen. 

Instead, I was fitted with a clear "test" socket, which is the piece that fits over my stump—it's the most important piece of the entire prosthesis. Ben—my prosthetist—would put the thing on, then make adjustments depending on where I felt discomfort or pressure. Once it was shaped to perfection, I was given the dreaded news that it'd be another week or two before the temporary prosthesis would be ready.

By the time my mom and I return home, I'm beat. Whereas a shower might be the place I once found peace, now it was a burden. So rather than bother with the hassle, I just flop down on my bed and let my mom massage the sensitive scar tissue at the end of my stump. She uses a warm soaped-up cloth to give the limb a sponge bath and then wraps a heating pad around the leg to help alleviate some of the phantom pain.

When the bell rings, she glances up at me to read my expression.

"It's probably one of your friends," she tells me in a way that indicates she's unsure if I'm ready for them to see all this.

I glance down at my leg before offering a shrug.

"They're gonna find out eventually; this is basically my new life," I say, hiding my bitterness behind a soft smile. "Might as well let them see."

"You sure?" she asks as she stands from the chair that she's positioned at the end of the bed.

"Yep."

She leaves after giving me one more 'are you sure?' look, and then disappears out my door. I lay back against my pillows, absorbing the heat radiating into my muscles. I'm just beginning to relax when Dillon's familiar voice startles me from my near slumber.

"Hey man," he greets, shoving the door open and strolling into my room.

If I didn't know the guy so well, I'd suspect that he was entirely comfortable with the sight before him. But, clearly, my mom warned him before sending him up and he's just playing it off well. I can see his eyes jumping to my covered stump every once in awhile, but he hurries to return his gaze to my face each time he falters. His smile remains, and though it appears relaxed, I can sense a forcefulness behind it.

"You wanna see it?" I ask, deciding it's best not to pretend everything is normal.

He looks up at me, his brows lifted as if surprised I caught on to his act, and then he smiles—a real, genuine smile. I hear the breath leave his lips as he nods at me.

"Definitely."

A soft laugh leaves my lips as I push myself into a seated position and begin unwrapping the heating pad. Dillon watches intently and I make sure to take a good look at his expression as I pull it away to reveal the truth behind the bandages.

"Whoa," Dillon whispers, taking a step closer. His eyes flicker towards me before settling back on my missing limb. "Does it hurt?"

I run my hand over the scars, proving to him that the skin itself doesn't hurt anymore. "Not really," I tell him. "The weirdest part is that most of the pain is in my calf and ankle."

"Really?" he asks before his mind can comprehend what I've just said. "Wait—what?"

"Yeah," I say, agreeing with his unspoken disbelief. "It's really weird. They say that it can take months or years for your brain to finally understand that there's no leg there. I can close my eyes and I swear I feel my foot. It's only when I try to move it that it gets weird. It's hard to explain, but I'd say it's like having my lower leg in a cast. I can feel it, but I can't move it."