By the ti they returned to the mansion, the sky was painted in shades of orange and golden. The sun was slowly setting, casting long shadows across the driveway. Their car moved gently toward the front of the mansion and rolled to a stop at the entrance. They all sighed deeply in relief.
It had been a long and stressful day, and everyone was tired. The driver stepped out and walked to the trunk to bring out the wheelchair. Davis looked at the chair and sighed deeply. So many thoughts filled his mind. Will I ever stand on my own again? he wondered. How long will I have to keep waiting for soone to help out of the car?
Slowly, Davis was helped into the wheelchair. Jessica took hold of the handles and gently pushed him into the house.
Once they got to the bedroom, she dropped her bag on the nightstand and slumped onto the bed. Her feet ached, her head throbbed slightly making her brows furrowed. "It must be pain from the tears I shed earlier", She murmured to herself.
Her hand slowly massaging her temples in a slow, circular motion, her mind lost in a brief thought. She let out a small laugh, then whispered, "I think I’ve been crying too much lately."
Davis nodded. "That’s true. But not surprising—you’re starting to feel like a human again."
Jessica sat up and glared at him. "Was I not human before?" she asked, her voice filled with annoyance.
Davis chuckled, amused. "Don’t take it personal. I just an you’ve beco more... he paused briefly searching for the proper word ...emotional lately. Now, go take your bath so you can rest."
Jessica sighed and lay back on the bed for a mont. Then suddenly, a na popped into her mind. She sat up quickly, grabbed her bag from the bedside table, and pulled out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts until she saw the na she was looking for—The Dean. Her finger hovered over the number for a few seconds. She knew that if she didn’t call imdiately, she might lose the courage to do so.
The phone rang for a few seconds before a male voice ca through. "Hello, Dr. Sica," the Dean greeted politely.
"Hello, I’m calling to check on Matilda Santiago. I want to know how she responded to the prescription I sent. Did she have any side effects? It’s important to know which treatnt works best for her and suits her body."
The Dean sighed. "It would be better if I send you her reports and the real-ti health data. That way, you can see everything for yourself."
Jessica nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. "Alright. Please send them to ." She thanked him and ended the call. She closed her eyes for a while gathering her thoughts while waiting for the ssage.
A few minutes later, the data ca through on her phone. She reviewed the details carefully, made a few corrections, and updated so recomndations. Then she sent the revised notes back to the Dean so he could make the necessary adjustnts on the prescriptions.
When she finally set her phone down, she noticed Davis watching her closely. He rested his chin on his hand, his eyes following her every movent.
"What is it?" she asked, confused by his stare.
"I was just thinking..." Davis said with a soft smile, "you look really beautiful when you’re focused on your work."
Jessica felt a blush rising to her cheeks. She looked away quickly, trying to hide her embarrassnt. "Well... I should be grateful for your complint, then," she replied lightly.
Davis smiled. Jessica stood up, stretched, and turned toward him with a serious expression. "Are you ready?" she asked gently.
Davis looked down at his leg, stretched out before him. A long sigh escaped his lips. He had been hearing that sa question for a few months. Every ti she asked, it reminded him of how far he still had to go. He gave a small shrug in response.
Jessica understood. She had seen that sa response many tis. "Davis," she said calmly, "you’re doing really well. For soone with your kind of injury, your recovery has been amazing. It’s just the end of the second month, and we’re already testing your leg’s strength. That’s progress and that you cannot deny."
Davis turned his head slightly, avoiding her gaze. "You don’t understand," he murmured. "There’s still so much to do. So many responsibilities I can’t fully handle in this condition. You trying to manage it all yourself is exhausting."
Jessica sighed and walked over to him. She knelt beside his chair and looked up into his eyes. "I know it’s not easy. But you’re not alone in this. You have people around you who care. And I believe you’ll walk again soon. Just be a little more optimistic, okay?"
Davis looked into her eyes. His heart softened at her words. A small smile ford on his lips as he nodded slowly. "I’ll try."
Jessica stood and gently squeezed his hand. "That’s all I ask."
Jessica moved quickly around the room, determined to prepare everything properly. She cleared the center tables and pushed the nightstand to the far corner of the room. Then, she spread a thick mat on the floor to cushion and support Davis during the session. After that, she brought out a strong chair with wide, comfortable armrests. A cane was placed beside it, within reach, in case it was needed later. She double-checked everything—making sure the floor was clear, the space was safe, and all the items were exactly where they should be.
Once she was satisfied, she stood and glanced around the room one more ti. Everything was ready.
Turning to Davis, she gently offered her hand. "Let’s begin," she said softly. Slowly, she helped him sit down on the chair. Davis closed his eyes briefly, then took a deep breath. He seed calm, but Jessica could sense he was ntally preparing himself for the effort ahead.
She knelt beside him and started guiding him through the steps they had practiced over the last few weeks. Her voice was soft, patient, and full of encouragent. "Take your ti," she reminded him, "we’re not in a hurry."
Step by step, she helped him test his legs for strength, stability, and movent. Davis tried to lift one foot, then the other, following her instructions closely. Jessica paid attention to everything—his breathing, the tension in his muscles, the way his hands gripped the armrest.
From ti to ti, she paused to write down her findings in a small notepad she kept nearby. She carefully recorded which leg showed more strength, where Davis felt pain, and which areas were numb. She also noted his feedback, listening to his every word with care. These small details were important for tracking his recovery progress.
Sotis, Davis groaned quietly as the pain surged through his body. Jessica remained calm and supportive, gently encouraging him to keep going but never pushing too hard. "You’re doing great," she said often. "Just a little more."
The session lasted longer than usual. By the ti they finished the tests and exercises, it was already well past dinner. Davis was exhausted. His breathing was heavy, and each breath sounded strained. Sweat soaked his shirt, and his forehead glistened. He leaned back in the chair, trying to catch his breath.
Jessica quickly fetched a towel and gently wiped the sweat from his face. "That’s enough for today," she said softly. "You did really well."
Davis gave a faint smile, his chest still rising and falling from the effort. Though tired, there was a quiet determination in his eyes.
Jessica smiled back at him. "One day at a ti," she whispered.
Jessica sat on the bed, folding her legs beneath her. With a focused look, she carefully compared the results from Davis’s last therapy session with the one they had just completed. She looked at every small change, checking if there was any improvent in his strength or response.
As she studied the notes, she made records of a few changes she needed to make to his dication. There were so adjustnts she would have to implent before his next session, which was scheduled in two days.
After completing her notes, she got up and helped Davis to the bathroom. There, she had already prepared a warm bath to help relax his stressed and tired legs. The therapy had always been intense, and she knew his muscles would be sore. The warm water would ease the tension and help with blood circulation.
While she moved around, checking the water temperature and gently helping him settle in, Davis watched her quietly. She was so focused, patient and careful.
At that mont, Davis made a silent promise to himself. One day, when he could finally stand on his feet again, he would do sothing special to thank her.
He didn’t even want to imagine how cold or distant another therapist might have been—even with all the money he had to offer.
But Jessica, she had given him her ti, care, and full dedication. And for that, he was deeply grateful.
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