His movement pulls my focus from my phone. He’s got a definite hitch in his step this morning, favoring his left leg. “Hey—are you—you’re limping. You okay?” His shoulders stiffen and he doesn’t turn around. “Yeah, m’fine. Knee is just tight.” I purse my lips, watching him work his way down the first set of stairs. My physical therapist alarm dings as I evaluate his posture and gait. He’s in pain. Was he limping yesterday? I don’t think so… I gasp. “Oh god, was that from last night? Caleb, did I hurt you? You know we can take the elevator—” “No,” he grunts again. “Leave me alone.”
