Dante stays on the bench during the first
part of Ryan’s therapy—from his position on the mats Ryan can see
his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye and just knowing he’s
there makes the leg-lifts and sit-ups bearable. Tish isn’t one of
those cheerleader therapists—she doesn’t egg him on, doesn’t give
much encouragement at all. She gives him a countdown as he works,
that’s it, and when he’s just about ready to quit, she’ll give him
a stern look and say, “Two more, Ryan. You’ve already done eight,
what’s two more?” Yes, he hates her. With a passion.
Next comes that damn ball between his knees,
he hates that, too. He hates when he can’t squeeze his legs
together hard enough and the ball drops down to hit his crotch, and
that’s not as painful as it is humiliating, feeling the sm
