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“Yes.”

“Man, I just got started,” I said excitedly.

“And we’re stopping before your legs give out.”

I wanted to argue. Hell, I almost did. But when I looked down, I could see how badly my right leg was shaking, and as much as I hated to admit it, I knew he was right.

Andre helped me turn carefully and lower myself back into the wheelchair. The second my ass hit the cushion, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My whole body felt exhausted. But I couldn’t stop looking at that cane.

“Three controlled steps,” Andre said. “That’s progress.”

I wiped my face.

“Felt like thirty.”

He laughed.

“That’s because you’re working muscles you haven’t been able to use normally in a while. We have to rebuild your strength and endurance.”

I nodded, still trying to catch my breath.

“When you think I’ll be able to use that thing without you hovering over me?”

“When you’re ready.”

I looked at him.

“You got a real answer?”

“That is my real answer.”

“Man, fuck you,” I said as I sucked my teeth.

He burst out laughing. He walked over to his bag to get my paperwork together, and I sat there thinking about what I had just done. Now this was fucking progress to me. I lowered my head and rubbed my hands over my face.

“Mr. Browne?”

I looked up, and Andre was watching me.

“You good?”

I nodded.

“Yeah.”

He studied me for a second before smiling.

“Good work today.”

I looked down at the cane resting beside my wheelchair.

“Appreciate you, man.”

“What’s going on in here?”

I looked up and saw Eternity standing there with Malachi in her arms. She was upstairs when we started therapy, and judging by the curious expression on her face, she must have heard us talking.

“Nothing,” I answered.