SIX WEEKS WITH HIM

Breaking the rule

Day 12.

Two sessions left before the contract ended.

Lucas walked in without crutches.

That alone told me everything.

“You’re walking,” I said, setting my clipboard down.

“Cleared for partial weight-bearing,” he said, a small grin breaking through. “Dr. Onyango said if this goes well, I start jogging next week.”

“Good,” I said. But my voice came out tighter than I meant it to.

Because “next week” meant after me. After the contract. After I’d hand him back to the senior physio and go back to being just another student in his class.

“Don’t look like that,” he said, catching it.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re already gone.”

I ignored him and pulled on my gloves. “Let’s check your gait. Walk to the door and back.”

He did. Slow, careful, but no limp.

“Better,” I admitted. “Strength’s coming back. Quad’s firing properly now.”

He stopped in front of me. Too close.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” he asked.

“What else is there to say?” I replied, keeping my eyes on his knee. Not his face.

He stepped closer.

“Kip.”

My name in his mouth still did things to me I didn’t want it to.

“We have rules,” I said quietly.

“I know.”

“Dr. Onyango warned us.”

“I know.”

“So stop,” I said, finally looking up.

He didn’t.

“What if I don’t want to stop?” he asked.

The room felt smaller. The air felt hotter.

“Lucas,” I said, voice low. “You’re my patient. If we cross that line now, I lose the placement. I lose the chance to help people like my dad. I can’t do that.”

“I’m not asking you to risk that now,” he said. “I’m asking what happens in two days.”

Two days.

Friday. Last session.

After that, there was no contract. No rules. No excuse.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

He nodded, like he’d expected that.

“Fair,” he said. “But I need you to know… it’s not just rehab for me anymore. It hasn’t been for a while.”

My chest tightened.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

“Why not?”

“Because if you say it out loud in this room, I don’t know if I’ll be able to pretend it’s not true for me too.”

He went still.

For ten seconds, neither of us moved.

Then the door opened.

“Time’s up, Kip,” Dr. Onyango said from the doorway.

We both jumped apart like we’d been caught doing something illegal.

Which, technically, we had been.

“See you Friday,” Dr. Onyango said, looking between us. She didn’t say anything else, but her eyes said she knew.

Lucas grabbed his bag and walked out without looking back.

I sat on the stool and put my head in my hands.

Two days.

Two days until I had to decide if I was brave enough to break the rule for real.

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