It hadn’t been a dream.
I ran through my memory.
I’d had an accident. I’d been checked during the game and they’d stretchered me off. And I’d been brought here.
Molly.
Molly was here. I’d seen her when I was brought in.
I looked over to the door as it opened, and a tall dude in a white coat walked in.
“Hey there, Felix. How are you feeling? I’m Doctor Reyes.”
I blinked at him and tried to speak but my throat was too dry. Instead, I coughed my response. He picked up the jug near my bed, pouring me some water and handing it over.
“Thank you,” I croaked after I’d downed the thing in one, giving it back to him for more.
The tugging sensation rippled through me again and I realized it was from the IV attached to my arm, stuck in the crook of my elbow.
“You’re welcome.” He picked up the chart from the holder on the wall and flipped through the pages. “I just want to check your vitals.”
He took hold of my wrist, timing my pulse before pulling my eyes open and shining a flashlight in them.
It was bright. And annoying.
I squinted then blinked several times, trying to clear the spots from my vision.
“You look good.” He scribbled on the chart and put it back in the holder. “The surgery went very well last night. Do you remember what happened?”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
“You took a nasty hit. Your left leg twisted when you went into the boards, which caused your femur to break.”
For the first time, I noticed my leg was in a brace.
Fuck. Broken leg. Fuck.Fuck.
“However, good news is that it was a clean break, which Doctor Marks…”
Doctor Marks? What?
I tried to sit up and failed. “Molly?”
His brow wrinkled slightly. “Yes, Molly. Doctor Marks managed to repair your...”
My brain was too fuzzy to compute what he was saying, because it sounded like he was telling me Molly operated on me.
“Molly?”
“Yes.”
My reluctant eyelids were forced to unstick as my eyes opened wide. “Molly operated on me?”
He nodded. “Yes, it was her surgery and I assisted.”
Fuck me. Molly.
“Where is she?”
