The change in Tashi Duncan over the last few months has been astronomical. You swear your sessions with her are like whiplash. One moment she's miserable over her knee, crying over the ugly scar that never seems to fade away. The next she's insisting she's fine and doesn't need any help. She's not a baby. Her life won't be ruined over one little (big career-ending) injury. Neither of you acknowledge her bluff.

You're the one constant in her life. You and your stupid daily affirmations. Always texting her to make sure she's done her stretches and sending pictures of you smiling with a thumbs up when she confirms she has been.

It's a Wednesday. Two days until a break for spring, and yet it only feels like time is standing still. Tashi shows up on time, as usual, dressed in a baggy Stanford sweater with shorts and her signature knee brace on display. No words are spoken as she sits down on the padded bench and starts to warm up her legs, stretching out the limb with a blank look on her face. She seems to be in a better mood today, despite her tight-lipped expression. She didn't glare or snap at either of the staff who greeted her upon her arrival at the sports facility.

"No coffee for me this morning?" You tease lightly, pen tapping against your clipboard as you move to hover above her. You know by now which distances are safe or not. Too far and she's saying I don't bite. Stop being so weird. Too close and she's glaring at you and telling you to watch your step.

She sends you an unimpressed look, but she's fighting back a smile as she unstraps her brace for you to inspect her scarred knee. You're all sunshine and rainbows, even when she's storm eyes and down-turned scowls. "No. I don't want you getting too comfortable."

You roll your eyes, moving into her space and ignoring the way her shoulders tense visibly. You're right above her now, your knee brushing against her bare one as you drop down to press against the surgery scar on her knee. It's been a few months of physical therapy, but it still hurts to the touch. Her muscles twitch beneath your fingers, and she sucks in a sharp breath.

"Hey, relax for me." You say, taking her leg in your hand. You can feel the muscle of her thigh tensing up against your fingers. She seems unusually sensitive today. You're debating whether to pry about it or not. No coffee gift this morning, but she was pleasant to your staff on the way in. Hm. Tough choice.

"I am relaxed," Tashi snaps. You don't take her tone personally. You've grown accustomed to the automatic defensiveness when anyone is touching her knee. "I'm extremely relaxed."