Free The Promise: A Tragic Accident, a Paralyzed Bride, and the Power of Love, Loyalty, and Friendship by Rachelle Friedman Page B

door closed and instituted a password for entry. I’m not sure why, but I decided the code word was “chicken leg.” So family and the nurse would be coming in and out, and that day they had to say “chicken leg” every single time they knocked. Sam and I laughed so hard that we cried. It was one fun afternoon for sure.

CHAPTER 13
    Love and Sex
    Part of rehab was getting used to real life after the hospital.And for me, that meant sex. So one day in late July during rehab, Chris and I were given the opportunity to stay together in a room within the hospital that was set up like a small apartment. The idea was that we were on our own that night to practice what it would be like when I went home. The nurses were a phone call away, just in case. Frances had given me a lot of information on how sex was going to be following the accident, and it was helpful for me to have my expectations in order.
    We were finally alone for the first time in two months in this tiny room that looked like a nice hotel room, complete with floral comforter and small TV. I was simply happy to lie beside him, wrapped up in his arms. I can’t describe how painful it was to have to endure months without being able to lie in bed cuddling and embracing the one you love, but instead having to be in a hospital bed alone. We hadn’t been intimate in months, and we were previously an extremely sexual couple. I longed to share that with him again, but I knew it would be different. I could no longer feel below my chest, so I wasn’t sure this was even going to be enjoyable. But I quickly realized that it wasn’t about having an orgasm. It was about being with him. Before, sex was all about the final result, and now it was more intimate, more personal, passionate, and loving. This time, we didn’t totally know what we were doing. It was a lot like losing my virginity again.
    It was my first time sleeping in a real bed since the accident. I still wore a neck brace, which wasn’t very sexy, but we worked with it. I was no longer able to move all around, but I laid flat on my back and I was able to wrap my arms around him. I was told that the parts of your body that you can feel, particularly your neck, become more sensitive, and it was true. I learned where I was sensitive and where I hadn’t acknowledged being sensitive before. That night was incredibly intense, more intense than the physical sex we’d had before the accident. This time it was emotional; it was making love. It certainly wasn’t better than the physical relationship we’d shared, which I was sad to have lost, but at least I knew there was hope and that we would still be able to find a way to remain physically connected.

    Chris was my first and only. We dated for a few months, and in October 2005 I lost my virginity to him. It was an emotional experience for me, because I had waited a long time to find the right person. It was my sophomore year of college, about a week after my twentieth birthday, and it was one of those things that was perfectly set up. By now I had moved into a house with two of my friends and they weren’t going to be there; it was our only opportunity to be by ourselves, so it had to be that night. We both knew it was going to happen, so I was very nervous. I was thinking, I am not going to be a virgin anymore. How many twenty-year-olds do you know who are virgins? The poor guy had a lot of pressure on him. But I had no expectations at the time—I just wanted to be with the man I had fallen in love with.
    I felt at that moment in time that Chris really was the one. With the lights out we made love and he told me he loved me. It was beautiful. It was great, being with him and knowing he’d be the only man I’d ever sleep with. I didn’t cry, but I got misty-eyed sharing that moment with him.
    The first time Chris told me he loved me was two weeks after we’d started dating. We had made out on my grandma’s couch. He whispered something in my ear. I wasn’t