Page 21 of The Marriage Rebound

I looked at her and scrubbed my face with my good hand. Between the crack I’d heard when I fell and the low constant throb I’d felt ever since, I braced myself for what I already knew, but didn’t want to fully acknowledge. “Give me the bad,” I said.

“I definitely think you fractured it at the very least. There is minimal swelling, but still some, and with your reaction any time I touched certain areas, I’m pretty confident in my assessment. But we are gonna have to get you over to the hospital for an X-ray. I’ll go ahead and call Dr. Michaels so that they can be expecting us and get everything set up so we won’t have to wait as long.”

I let out another heavy sigh. “Okay, if that’s the bad news, what’s the good news?”

“I don’t think it’s a complete break, which means healing time is going to be quicker.”

I nodded, letting the “good news” attempt to sink in. To have something, anything, to grasp at. Then realization dawned on me. “Wait, a fracture? Does that mean I’m gonna be in a cast and not just like a splint? I’ll be in a splint, right? Not a full-on, can’t-get-it-wet-in-the-shower cast?”

She pressed her lips together and shifted her gaze from Shae over to Sasha, who was standing at the island, and then back to me. “No, you’re most likely gonna be in a cast. That’s the best way to make sure you don’t make the injury worse. Keep it stabilized, let it heal, and do some physical therapy and probably a little occupational therapy. We will do both just to make sure that your range of motion is okay and you don’t have any problems with dexterity.”

“But if I’m in a cast, I can’t play.” I spoke slowly, as if she didn’t understand the predicament, although I realized she probably did. And maybe it was more clarifying for myself as it really settled on me that I would not be able to do Euro League like I normally did. There would be no point in me even traveling if I was in a cast because I wouldn’t be playing.

And no playing meant no pay.

I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t have active money coming in. How the hell was I supposed to run two households off just my safety nets? Yes, I had savings and investments, and we got the bonus for winning, but still. This situation was less than ideal, but . . .

I dropped my head back against the couch. “Fuck!”

No one said anything as we all processed my predicament. I absolutely hated the pity that became a fifth wheel in the room.

“Okay, let’s go to get the X-ray,” I finally conceded. “Maybe it’s not as bad.” I was still trying to hold out some hope, but Doc knew her job, and she did it well. And I trusted what she was saying to me even though I didn’t want to. She wouldn’t lead me astray.

With my good hand, I managed to push myself up, then headed to my room to brush my teeth and get dressed. As I climbed the traitorous stairs, I could hear Doc, already on the phone making arrangements for me. I kept my left arm close to my body as I clumsily attempted to put toothpaste on my toothbrush, making a mess in the process since I was trying to do everything with my right hand. It truly sucked to be a lefty in this moment.

“Need some help?” Sasha asked from the doorway.

Our eyes met in the mirror. She chewed on the corner of her bottom lip almost as if she were unsure. I didn’t know if it was about whether she wanted to be up here with me, or if she didn’t know if I wanted her with me considering our last exchange. Either way, she was here offering assistance that I desperately needed.

I looked down at the glob of toothpaste I’d managed to get everywhere but on the bristles and nodded. “Yes, please.”

She made quick work of the task, then handed me my loaded toothbrush.

“Thank you.”

She glanced up at me, then down to where I still held my arm close to my body. She leaned forward and placed the barest-of-there kiss on my wrist. “You’re welcome.”

I saw the bobble in her throat as she swallowed hard before she stepped away and started cleaning up the mess I’d made. It was a small thing, but seeing Sasha perform this domestic act of service—there were a lot of worries running rampant in my head, but having her near, showing up for me in this way, had a mild calming effect.

“I’ll grab you some clothes to throw on,” she said once she’d finished. She exited, leaving me to clumsily brush my teeth.

It was hard not to feel infantile as Sasha helped dress me. Being dependent on someone to such a degree was new for me, and hard. There was a level of vulnerability I wasn’t used to, and it was an uncomfortable place to be. We didn’t speak much as I focused on moving as gingerly as possible and trying to avoid hitting my wrist. And she took just as much care when helping me into my bra and shirt. If there was anyone I could be vulnerable with, it should be Sasha.

“I’m sorry,” I said once I was fully clothed.

“For what?” she asked as she grabbed her purse from the chair.

“Insinuating you wouldn’t or didn’t care about me being hurt.”

She adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “It’s fine. We should get goin’.”

I don’t know what sort of response I was expecting or hoping for, but it was something more than that. But that was what I got, and I was too tired and in too much pain to push it. The throbbing hadn’t stopped and if I were being honest, it had probably gotten worse. Though I kept that to myself.

It was no surprise that Dr. Michaels—our team orthopedic specialist—confirmed what Doc had assessed at the house. Three hours later, I was sitting in the passenger seat with my new cast as Sasha drove us home. Trying to find the bright spot—if there was one to be found—I was able to get it in a blue that was close to Cannon blue, since Sasha had insisted on anything but a “boring black or white.”

Shae had texted Tina to let her know what was up, and of course she was sympathetic, and also said she’d bring my stuff from her house after I told her I’d be staying at home. Doc had already informed Coach Smith since she’d needed to report the injury. Though she was fairly confident it wouldn’t have any effect on my regular season play.

Then I made the unfortunate call to my agent to let her know what’d happened so she could make my Euro League team aware. It wasn’t the best phone call since me not playing sadly also affected her pockets, but she did wish me a speedy recovery. With that off my plate, I was left with figuring out what I was supposed to do with myself for the next eight weeks. The idea of basically sitting around the house earning nothing and probably slowly losing my mind was enough to make me break out in hives.