Chapter 6

Alba wasn't sure how they had fallen into it, but, following almost a sense of rhythm, they went from being friends to meeting up for a lot of their meals. It was good, but it also might complicate her ability to be detached as his counselor. She frowned as she thought about it over the next few days. And then, when Dani stopped in to ask Alba about something else, Alba brought up this issue with her boss and longtime friend.

Dani looked at her and nodded. "That's an interesting issue. Do you feel you can be detached as his counselor, even while spending more time with him at meals and such?"

"Sure. And I really like him. I like to see him challenge himself, and I like to see him get up and go farther down the pathway that he's on. He definitely has a few challenges that he can't really recognize within himself, so it's nice to spur that on," she murmured. "I just wonder if I'm creating a problem where there isn't one."

"I have no idea," Dani admitted. "However, I trust you, and so, if you feel something is there that may hinder your counseling of him, we can switch him to another doctor."

"Let's see how far along this pathway we get," Alba suggested. "It could very well be that, as he makes more friends here, he won't want to spend as much time with me. And I definitely do not want to hamper his progress. I'm so careful about that."

Dani agreed, and they left it at that.

When Dennis made a comment a few days later about her being alone for a meal, she smiled at him and replied, "I guess it is quite noticeable that we've spent a lot of time together, isn't it?"

"Of course," Dennis replied. "Hathaway is a big place, yet it's a small place. But it's not a problem."

"Maybe not," she admitted, "but I'm also his doctor."

At that, Dennis nodded slowly. "But if there's nothing between you but friends, and nothing to interfere with his rehab," he pointed out, "maybe having this level of a friendship helps you to understand who and what he really is and what he needs. Besides, spending time outside of the counseling probably goes far with these guys, being accepted in real-life situations."

"Well, it sounds good in theory," she said, with a laugh. "I'll have to think about it."

As it was, Wesley didn't join her that night, and she found herself constantly looking at her phone, wondering if there was a problem. When she didn't hear from him at all, she assumed that he had made other plans. It's not as if they had had an arrangement set, where they met every night. It just happened to be that way, as they fell into that routine. Until tonight.

When she saw him a couple days later, she was at the entrance to the dining room, waiting in line, when she heard a man beside her.

"There you are," Wesley said. "I finally caught up to you."

She looked over at him and smiled. "Hey, I just figured you got busy and made some new friends."

He shook his head. "No, I wish that was all. I just ended up feeling not so good."

She looked at him. "You were sick?"

"I'm not exactly sure that's what I would call it either," he noted, "but I ended up with a touchy tummy."

She nodded. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." The fact that he hadn't contacted her about it also kind of made sense because, as far as he was concerned, they were still very much a case of patient and doctor. "I didn't know about that," she shared, "because it didn't interfere with one of our sessions, or somebody would have told me about it."

He nodded. "And I wondered if I should contact you, but guess who broke his charger?"

She stared at him. "Wow, you've really had a couple of days."

"Exactly." He nodded. "But, hey, I figured you probably would have gotten the message through the grapevine."

"Nope, not at all," she said cheerfully, feeling inordinately pleased that she had a valid reason for his silence, something that didn't involve their ongoing friendship. And how foolish was that because there wasn't any reason to suspect anything other than that he had just gotten busy. "Next time, send me a message. I can bring you meals or a drink or whatever," she explained. "Just send it through the e-tablet."

He frowned at her. "I didn't even think of that," he murmured. "How foolish. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Gosh, no. We didn't have anything arranged, already in place, other than your scheduled appointments." And then she laughed. "In a place like this, you always have to be open to change."

He nodded, as they moved through the buffet line, keeping his voice low. "I have to admit I wasn't doing all that great these last couple days."

"And maybe there was a message sent out to your team, but, as it didn't impact my schedule, I probably didn't look at it too closely," she admitted. "I've been pretty busy."

He smiled. "I think in a place like this, we are all busy."

"And not only that, there's always the forward and backward motions, one step forward, three back," she noted. "So, it's just one of those things that we adapt to."

"Got it," he murmured. "Anyway, I'm back. I'm eating, and I'm feeling a lot better."

"Good," she said, as she studied him. "Were you not eating for a few days?"

He nodded. "Yeah, a couple of the exercises that I was doing with Shane seem to have affected my ability to digest food," he explained. "So for two days everything was just shooting right through me. We ended up switching out the program and giving everything a rest."

"Good," she replied. "People usually watch out for sore muscles, but they don't know to consider digestive issues or brain fog issues or other symptoms that it could have caused."

"Right, and I wasn't thinking that either," he admitted. "I was heading straight forward to my goals and doing really well, but my body had other ideas."

At that, she laughed. "And that's one of the main lessons here. Your body always rules. And it's up to you to listen."

"And that was one of the things that Shane pounded into me too," Wesley stated, "but I am doing better."

"And that's a good thing," Dennis said, joining in their conversation. "So, no more weak bouillon for you, huh?"

Wesley winced. "No, I want some real food."

"Now that was real food," he countered. "Ilse made you bone broth. Not too many people around here get that."

He nodded. "Still prefer a steak, though."

Dennis laughed. "Wouldn't we all," he muttered. "Wouldn't we all."

*

Wesley should havelet Alba know. It only really dawned on him, after they had shared lunch, as he sat afterward in his room, thinking about how nice it was to spend time with her again and to eat a meal together. But somewhere in the back of his mind he figured that she probably had a completely different group of friends to sit with, and she was probably happy to not have Wesley around. He didn't even know how he got into that mind-set, but he was so caught up in his own world and all the pain coursing through him that his brain was on hold.

And only now, "Now," he said out loud, "as I sit in my room all alone, do I realize I was an idiot." But, hey, she didn't seem to hold it against him, so that was a good thing. As he considered that, he thought he couldn't help but think about how he was already viewing her as somebody special, as somebody he wanted to keep in touch with when this was over. But, for her, he was just one more patient. One more person who required time and energy.

Although Wesley fully believed that she would be ecstatic and excited to see his progress over his time period here at Hathaway House, there was absolutely nothing personal in it. This was all professional. And that was something he needed to keep in mind.