Fiction…..A Very Short Story: The Result

Angela is in love. But HE doesn’t know it. At least Angela is pretty sure. She sees him once a week when she goes for the therapy…having a bad knee has become fun.

Angela sits at the edge of the table, watching him. His hands touch her kneecap, the back of her calf. His hands are warm, his eyes….she waits. They sometimes talk.

She knows she is waiting for the knee to get better, but also waiting for him to see if anything lies between them, in the silences. They talk of exercises, how to go up and down stairs…body mechanics. He says words to her like femur, soft tissue.

In the car driving home, she listens to the radio, has it loud, vigorous in her ears. But also his words, “Let’s see how you do this week. You’ll be okay.”

But in some ways she is not okay. She thinks of him, plans what they will talk about, considers that maybe her knee isn’t getting better, because her mind doesn’t want it to.

She turns down other opportunities, using her knee as an excuse. At some level she knows that’s crazy. It’s all crazy. He is married and she…what chance does she have…soon her knee will heal; then she reminds herself to make a new appointment.

In four weeks, he is ready to dismiss her. Feeling foolish, she smiles at him, goes through the motions, flexes her knee, lets her leg rock back and forth…the knee working, her calf hitting the deep edge of the table. He stops writing, reaching out to grab her leg, stop these unnecessary movements.

They don’t speak, though they are looking at each other. Soon his hand drops away. Her therapy is done, it’s over. He’s given her the help she needed and what she came for.

As she slides off the table, he taps her knee one last time, because now she is pain-free…right?

She tries to say something like Thank You…forgets herself, has to smile, has to walk away.