Chapter 9 - The Rebuilding Phase
Six months later.
Spring had arrived in Lakewood, Colorado. The Rocky Mountains were capped with melting snow, and the air smelled of fresh rain and green pine.
My physical therapy had entered its final, triumphant stage.
I stood in the bright, sunlit rehabilitation clinic, holding a five-pound hand weight in my right hand. Under the watchful eye of my physical therapist, Sarah, I slowly raised my right arm above my head—a smooth, continuous, pain-free arc.
"Look at that range of motion!" Sarah cheered, clapping her hands. "Tessa, that is ninety-five percent mobility! Dr. Arisaka is going to be blown away at your six-month checkup!"
I lowered the weight, a massive, radiant smile breaking across my face. I looked at my right shoulder in the mirror. The three tiny arthroscopic surgical scars were fading into faint white lines.
The heavy black sling was gone. The pain was gone.
And the emotional weight was gone too.
Lena had signed the formal civil settlement four months ago to avoid a public trial. Her wages from her new job at a boutique retail shop were officially being garnished by twenty percent every month to pay off my medical bills and legal fees. She and my mother were living in a small two-bedroom apartment in Aurora, completely alienated from the rest of our extended family.
My father’s divorce was finalized in March. He had kept the ranch house, repainted the living room in light, bright colors, and joined a local hiking club where he had made a wonderful group of new friends.
As I walked out of the physical therapy clinic into the warm spring sunshine, my phone chimed.
It was a text from Caleb:
Hey Tessa! Supposed to hit seventy degrees today. Are we still on for lunch at the patio downtown?
Over the last six months, Caleb and I had formed a quiet, genuine, and deeply supportive friendship. We weren't dating—neither of us was ready for that—but we had become anchors for each other as we navigated the wreckage of the wedding that never happened. He had moved into a beautiful loft in downtown Denver, focusing on his company, while I had been promoted to Senior Director at my architecture firm.
May you like
I texted back: See you in twenty minutes! I'm driving myself today!
I stepped into my own car—a new silver SUV I had bought two months ago—placed both hands firmly on the steering wheel, and drove toward the city.