Page 100 of Stick With Me
I don’t hear Dom’s response past the buzzing in my ears. What if heisseriously hurt? How long has he been down?It feels like an hour, but I know it can’t be more than a few minutes. My spiraling worry doesn’t stop. “Why isn’t he getting up?” I mutter again to myself.
“Hannah, come sit. It’s all right,” Dom tries again, but this time, I can’t stay still. His uncharacteristic somberness only heightens my anxiety. “Look, he’s getting up.”
He is getting up, but not on his own. The medical staff assists him off the ice, and the cameras zoom in on his face, capturing the grimace that reveals just how much pain he’s in. He’s too pale, a bead of sweat dripping from his brow.It’s probably from the exertion of playing, not because of the injury, I try to assure myself.
“When will he have his phone? Can you call someone on staff to check in?” I ask Dom, my voice still shaking.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry, I repeat in my head as I watch Ryan disappear down the tunnel. You’d think seeing him get up would ease some of the fear, but not knowing what’s happening, makes it worse.
I don’t know why I’m so emotional. Hockey is a physical game, and years of dating a player should’ve made me immune to butterfly bandages and bruises. But with Ryan, I hate every mark, and every time they litter his skin. Now, not knowing how bad it is, the tight leash I keep on my feelings slips.
“I’m not sure when he’ll have his phone. They’ll check him out. Depending on what they think the injury is, they’ll either handle it on staff or take him to the hospital for further tests,” Dom says as he pulls out his phone. I hear his call go straight to voicemail.
I frantically search the cushions of the couch for my phone, my hands shaking. Dom picks it up from the coffee table and hands it to me with a sympathetic look.
I count the rings as they go unanswered. As soon as it kicks me to Ryan’s voicemail, I hang up and redial.
One.
Two.
Three.
Before I can finish the count, a notification for an incoming call interrupts me. It’s an unknown number, but I answer it immediately, and the sound of Ryan’s voice, familiar and steady, makes my heart stop racing momentarily. “Hannah. It’s me. I borrowed one of the trainers’ phones.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay, baby.” The sharp breath hissing through his teeth betrays the lie, and I know it’s worse than he’s letting on.
“What’s going on, Ry? Do they know what’s wrong?”
“Shoulder dislocation. They’re bringing me to the hospital to check for a torn lab—” There’s muffled talk, and then Ryan repeats the word into the phone, “labrum. They’re saying it’s cartilage that surrounds the socket.”
“So, do they just pop it back in or what?” The words rush out.
“Shh, take a breath,” he prompts, sounding much too calm. But I guess calm is relative to my state. I inhale deeply through my nose, and exhale audibly through my mouth.
“I’m not sure. I’ll know more once we get to the hospital,” he says, finally answering my question.
“If you plan to keep playing hockey, you’re going to need surgery,” I hear someone in the background say.
“Surgery? Oh God,” I gasp.
I hear Ryan’s muffled voice as if he’s buried the phone in his shirt, but I can still make out his sharp tone. “She’s already freaked out. Shut the fuck up.”
“Me? What about you?” The lump in my throat grows. I know how much hockey means to him. I can’t bear to think how he’ll feel if he can’t play.
“I don’t want you to worry. That’s why I called, but I can see it’s having the opposite effect—” He can’t hold back the groan of pain that cuts off his words or the heavy breaths that follow. “I’m going to call you once I have more info, okay?”
“What hospital are they taking you to?”
I hear him ask away from the phone before coming back to tell me, “Intermountain Health Denver.”
“Okay.” I steady myself and focus on what needs to be done. “I’ll see you soon.”
“They’ll probably fly me home early so I don’t have to follow the guys to San Jose. Hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, I mean I’ll see you tonight.” I check the time on my phone. “Or tomorrow morning. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get a flight.”
