Chapter 17 - Richard Walked Without Me
Two weeks passed.
Ethan and Chloe were formally charged with multiple financial crimes while investigators continued building the case surrounding Richard’s crash.
Vitalis suspended several executives.
Dr. Reynolds lost his hospital privileges pending investigation.
Michael became a cooperating witness.
Valerie entered a whistleblower protection process.
And Richard kept getting stronger.
Every morning, we trained.
Every afternoon, he complained.
Every evening, I ignored the complaining.
His right leg recovered faster.
His left remained unreliable.
But his balance improved.
Five steps became ten.
Ten became twenty.
One morning, I placed his cane on the opposite side of the room.
“Walk to it.”
He looked at me.
“That’s cruel.”
“You’ll survive.”
“You’re thirty-nine and already meaner than my physical therapists.”
“Compliments won’t help.”
“That was not a compliment.”
“Walk.”
Richard stood.
He stabilized himself against the desk.
Then he released it.
One step.
Two.
Three.
His knee buckled.
He recovered.
Four.
Five.
I fought the instinct to reach for him.
Six.
Seven.
Richard stopped.
His breathing was heavy.
The cane remained six feet away.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Maya.”
“Take one more.”
He looked furious.
Good.
Anger was useful.
He stepped.
Then again.
Then again.
By the time he reached the cane, tears were standing in his eyes.
He grabbed it.
I smiled.
“You did it.”
Richard turned toward me.
Then he did something I did not expect.
He walked back.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Without the cane.
I could not speak.
He stopped directly in front of me.
“I told you I would walk.”
“You also told me you were fine after falling three times.”
“That was different.”
I laughed.
Then Richard touched my cheek.
The room became quiet.
His hand was warm.
“Maya.”
I knew what was coming.
Maybe I had known for weeks.
“You hired me.”
I whispered.
“That is your argument?”
“It’s one of them.”
“You are no longer my employee.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“I terminated your employment yesterday.”
“You did what?”
He smiled.
“You didn’t notice.”
“I’m going to push you over.”
“I believe you.”
“Richard.”
“I transferred your position.”
“To what?”
“Director of patient advocacy for Vance Recovery Group.”
I stared at him.
“You cannot appoint me without asking.”
“Apparently I just did.”
“That is not how employment works.”
“Then say no.”
I stopped.
Richard’s teasing expression softened.
“The entire reason I survived this was because one caregiver believed what she saw instead of what powerful people told her to believe.”
My throat tightened.
“I want every patient in our facilities to have someone like that.”
The anger disappeared.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
I looked away.
Richard waited.
Finally, I said.
“I’ll consider it.”
“I’ll take that.”
Then he leaned closer.
This time, I did not move away.
The kiss was brief.
Gentle.
Nothing like the dramatic explosion people imagine after weeks of tension.
It was simply honest.
When we separated, Richard smiled.
“Was that also under consideration?”
I laughed.
“Definitely.”
May you like
For the first time in years, uncertainty did not frighten me.
It felt like possibility.
