Love Heals

“I’m not a baby,” complained Emilio.

Rachel said nothing and had him sit on the edge, feet dangling, before she took off her shirt and let herself slip in the water with barely a ripple. Emilio was happy to be already sitting, because Jesus, Rachel in her swimsuit never ceased to be quite a sight. He hoped the smell of chlorine was potent enough to hide the arousal that curled in his gut, reinforced by the envious looks some other swimmers were throwing his way. One of them even dropped his kid for a second, lost in the contemplation of Rachel’s ass.

The physiotherapist gestured for him to get down, holding him to ease him gently in the water.

“Still not a baby,” grumbled Emilio.

“Really? Because you whine like one,” snapped Rachel, but her eyebrows were doing the fake pissed expression.

“Rachel Guararia, are you being funny?!”

There was no smile on her face, but a crinkle near her eyes that made Emilio think of his mom’s laugh lines. Maybe aqua therapy wouldn’t suck that much, he thought as Rachel demonstrated the first exercise to him by stretching his muscled calves.

*****

Emilio took it back, all back. Rachel was a horrible, no good, bad therapist. She could see through his bullsh*t without fail, could sense the pain in him and hence knew exactly when Emilio was being lazy and should push more. Emilio was pretty sure his legs couldn’t bend like that even before the accident. By the time the hour ran out, Emilio had cursed the fu*king pixies to Hell and back, the damn forest, Rachel, and his very own ancestry on a few generations. And all the while, the physiotherapist had shown a patience Emilio didn’t know she had. She was never that patient a few years back, when she turned her back on him and went off to start a new life, that was for sure. Rachel glanced at the clock.

“One more series of squats and we’re done for tonight. My class is coming up.”

“What, you’ve got even more desperate cases to attend to?”

Rachel rolled her eyes:

“The 5 years-old in my class could beat you right now.”

Emilio gaped a little.

“Wait, you teach kids to swim?”

“No, I just sit on the side and look pretty,” Rachel deadpanned.

“You totally could. I’m sure people would come for that.”

Something between surprise and annoyance fluttered on Rachel’s face before her eyebrows come back to a carefully neutral expression.

“Stop saying nonsense and get out, the kids are arriving.”

And true to her word, a band of mostly bald-headed, thin looking  kids in hospital scrubs was gathering on the side of the pool. Probably cancer patients or something Emilio thought, feeling simultaneously shamefaced and impressed with Rachel. Trust her to be making a real difference in the world. Even when swimming.

Emilio hauled himself up the ladder, and he felt tired but actually accomplished. Well, until he took his first step with his bad leg, which couldn’t seem to hold his normal weight anymore. Emilio tried to regain balance by putting his weight on his other foot, but the floor was slippery and he felt himself fall. He’s bracing for impact when he was caught under the armpits and straightened.

Turning in Rachel’s embrace, he held on to her, panic beating fast in his heart, fear of hurting his leg making the muscle clench painfully.

“You’re okay, Emilio, breathe.”

And when Emilio did just that, he realized two things;

 1- the sinful amount of skin to skin contact going on and

2- the glare of death that a little girl in the group waiting for the class was aiming at him.

“Babe… I think you have a groupie,” said Emilio, trying to put some distance between his still tight abdomen and Rachel’s too tempting curves.

The physiotherapist ignored the remark, focused on not letting go of Emilio, taking so much of his weight, Emilio felt like he was floating rather than walking. She really was very strong for a girl. Not that he was complaining. Rachel sat him on the bench, grabbed a towel that must have been hers, and started drying Emilio. It’s a bit infant-like, to be honest, but it allowed Rachel to discreetly do a bit of her physiotherapist pain mojo, and Emilio was completely on board with that.

The glare got even more intense. The girl had a blue swimming cap on, and Emilio thought he recognized her from when he came in. She had on a nyan cat swimsuit that was difficult to forget.

“Rachel, she’s boring holes in my head. With her eyes.”

The physiotherapist glanced across the swimming pool.

“That’s Felicia. She… She likes me.”

“Well… The girl has good taste, I can give her that.”

Emilio was pointedly looking at Rachel as he said that, and again caught the fleeting mix of surprise and annoyance on Rachel’s face.

“True. The nyan cat swimsuit is pretty rad.”

Not only did Rachel Guararia have a sense of humor, but she was also a geek. And when Emilio grinned at her, ready to tease her about it, he was rendered speechless by the little smile, small and shy, playing at the corner of Rachel’s lips.

“See you tomorrow?” the physiotherapist asked.

Emilio could only nod. He hesitated for a moment, wanting to see if she’d be interested in seeing him tonight. But he didn’t want to push his luck. Things were going well…he thought. No need to jinx it by being overeager. He limped to the changing room, looking back to watch Rachel with the kids. She really was a natural. She needed some kids of her own too.