Chapter 4 Revised

By the time Anita returned to her bedroom, only thirty minutes had passed.

It felt longer.

Thirty minutes ago, she had walked downstairs carrying three months of guilt on her shoulders. Now, after finally talking to her parents, something inside her felt lighter.

Not fixed.

Definitely not fixed.

But lighter.

For the first time since the accident, Anita wasn't trying to force herself to have an answer for everything.

She didn't know what her next career would be.

She didn't know whether her knee would ever improve enough for her to return to an operating room in some capacity.

She didn't know what her life would look like six months from now.

And maybe, for one night, that was okay.

Anita closed her bedroom door behind her and glanced toward the laptop resting on her bed.

Then she remembered.

The messages.

“Oh.”

Her newly discovered peace lasted approximately two seconds.

Anita crossed the room considerably faster than someone pretending not to care about online dating probably should have.

She climbed onto the bed, pulled the laptop onto her thighs, and woke the screen.

One notification.

Just one.

Anita stared at it.

Out of the five men she had messaged, only one had responded.

And, naturally, it was the one man whose photographs she hadn't been able to see.

Of course.

She opened the message.

Andrew: Hey, beautiful.

Anita smiled before she could stop herself.

Beautiful.

It was such a simple word.

She shouldn't have reacted to it so strongly.

But it had been a long time since someone who wasn't related to her had called her beautiful.

A much longer time since she had believed it herself.

“All right, Andrew,” she murmured. “You have my attention.”

She settled against the headboard and began typing.

Anita: Hi. My name is Anita. I'm thirty-three, single, and slightly disabled. Other than that, I'm pretty normal.

She paused.

Deleted pretty normal.

Typed it again.

Then added:

Well...as normal as somebody joining a BDSM dating site can claim to be.

Anita stared at the sentence.

“Oh God.”

She should delete it.

Instead, she kept typing.

I'm already making a terrible first impression, aren't I? How has your day been? And thank you for the compliment.

Her finger hovered over the send button.

This was exactly the sort of thing she used to overthink.

In her previous relationship, Anita had spent far too much time editing herself.

Don't talk too much.

Don't sound strange.

Don't get overly excited about something.

Don't correct him when he says something stupid.

Don't make him feel insecure because you're more successful.

Eventually, she had become so careful around her ex that being with him felt less like a relationship and more like performing a role.

Perfect girlfriend.

Successful doctor.

Reliable provider.

Never difficult.

Never strange.

Never too much.

Anita was finished with that.

If her personality frightened Andrew away, it was better for him to disappear now than six months from now.

She pressed Send.

“There.”

Immediate regret.

Anita covered her face.

“Why am I like this?”

Her mother had always loved repeating a quote whenever Anita's personality became particularly eccentric.

There is no great genius without a mixture of madness.

Anita had embraced the sentiment enthusiastically.

Her father had always argued that she focused much too heavily on the madness part.

A notification sounded.

Anita nearly dropped the laptop.

“That was fast.”

She opened his response.

Andrew: Slightly disabled?

Another message appeared before she could answer.

My day has been interesting. And for what it's worth, I don't think you've made a bad first impression.

Then another.

You should have more confidence in yourself. You're a very eye-catching woman.

Anita blinked.

Then reread the last sentence.

Eye-catching.

She glanced suspiciously toward the photograph she had uploaded to her profile earlier.

Apparently the picture had been a good choice.

Her fingers returned to the keyboard.

If Andrew wanted honesty, he was about to receive it.

Possibly more than he had bargained for.

Anita: Long story short, I was involved in a hit-and-run accident. And, as you can probably guess, I was the one who got hit.

She smiled faintly at her own joke.

Both knees were injured, but the left one is worse, and I also have some problems with my back. I can walk. I can stand. I just can't do either for long periods.

Her fingers slowed.

This part mattered.

If you're interested in getting to know me, I need you to understand that this isn't temporary awkwardness I'm hiding until somebody likes me enough. My life is different now.

Anita considered stopping there.

Instead, she continued.

Personality-wise, my brain jumps tracks sometimes and I'm probably going to say weird things without warning, so consider yourself properly informed.

She laughed quietly.

Normally I'm extremely confident. Putting myself out there again after everything that's happened is just...different. Especially when you're the first person who has answered me.

That last admission made her hesitate.

Too vulnerable?

Maybe.

True?

Definitely.

She pressed Send.