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He checked my position before telling me to shift my weight again. I moved my left foot forward, but it was slower than the first. My legs were shaking harder now, and I could feel the strain in my shoulders from holding myself up.

“Good,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just ran a fucking mile.”

From the kitchen, Eternity spoke.

“Language, Malik.”

“Ain’t nobody in here but us,” I said as I looked over at her.

“Your son can hear you.”

I glanced at her stomach.

“He doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

I laughed before concentrating on my balance again.

“Eyes forward,” Andre reminded me. “You want to try one more?”

I wanted to tell him I could make it across the whole living room. Instead, I looked down at my legs and told him the truth.

“I could do one more.”

He stayed beside me while I moved my right foot forward again. It was barely a step, but I got it there. My knees started trembling so hard afterward that I knew I was done.

“Okay,” I said. “I need to sit.”

“We’ve got the chair right behind you.”

He talked me through getting back into position and helped me lower myself into the wheelchair. I was breathing hard by the time I settled into the seat. My shirt was damp against my back, and my arms felt like I’d been lifting weights all morning. The therapist crouched in front of me to check how I was doing.

“Any dizziness?” he asked.

“Nah.”

“Pain?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Eternity came over and handed me her glass of water.

“You did good, baby,” she said.

“You ain’t gotta say that just ’cause you my wife,” I said as I took the glass from her.

“I’m saying it because I watched you do it.”

I drank some water while Andre wrote something down on his clipboard.

“We’ll keep working on your standing tolerance and weight shifts,” he said. “I don’t want you trying those steps without me here. We’re not there yet.”

“I know.”

He gave me a look.

“I said I know.”