Page 74 of Broken Bonds

“Good morning, Celine, Mrs. Wilson. I hope all is well. Have you had your power restored yet?” He didn’t look up from the papers in his hands—the test results. My fucking future.

“Alex, I’ve watched my daughter suffer for a week now,” Mom said, cutting right through the bullshit. “She tenses every time someone touches her. She’s religiously taking the pain medicine you prescribed, and she followed the pain management plan to a T to no avail. So please, enough with pleasantries and small talk. Tell me what the hell is wrong with my daughter.”

Dr. Alex looked up from the papers now, his gaze switching between my enraged mother and me. Tears made vision blurry, fear almost crippling me.

He sat down on the small stool and rolled toward us, his one hand landing gently on my knee, his eyes softening. “Unfortunately, your injuries are more severe than I originally thought.” My mother sucked in a sharp breath, her hand tightening on my leg, causing a ripple of pain to shoot through me.

Dr. Alex’s soft eyes landed on her before switching back to me. “I had originally thought this was just a hamstring tear, which is easily fixed with rest, ice packs, and physical therapy. Not that a week would have been enough time to see any noticeable changes—it would have been a three-to-four-week period before the swelling would have subsided.” He paused, glancing at the papers in his hand.

“However, I did previously mention the possibility of you having a hamstring avulsion fracture, which is a very serious injury that does require surgery. Based on the scans, Celine, you do have this avulsion in both of your legs.”

No.

He continued talking, his voice low, soothing almost, but I couldn’t hear him. The word ‘surgery’ ran through my mind like a runaway train as I came to terms with the outcome I already knew was coming.

Why me?

“Celine, dear, are you listening?” I looked up from my legs to Dr. Alex’s face, my vision blurred from the tears welling in my eyes. I shook my head, feeling the first hot tear roll down my cheek.

Not again.

“Let me explain to you how I’m going to fix this. I’m going to fix it, Celine.” My throat was burning. I didn’t trust my own voice, so I nodded, staring into his aging face, the tears rolling freely down my face now.

Why me? Hadn’t I been through enough?

“During the repair, I’ll pull the hamstring muscles back to their normal attachment and cut away all the scar tissue from the hamstring tendon. Afterward, I’ll reattach the tendon to the bone, and within a few months, you’ll go back to a normal life with a small scar as a reminder. You will survive this, Celine. It is not like last time.”

“Will I be able to walk again?” My shaky voice filled the silence.

“Yes, child, after a few months, you’ll be able to run and even swim, if you choose,” he assured me.

“What’s the next step, Alex?” My mother sighed, her hand tight around mine now that she’d finally let go of my trembling leg.

“Let’s book her for surgery next week. Keep with the ice and elevation. I suggest getting a wheelchair to get around. It’ll be much easier than the crutches, but that’s up to you.”

“Can I go to class in the meantime?” I asked. Ineedednormalcy. Needed something else to focus on other than this upcoming surgery and all the future physical therapy appointments. “It starts back up tomorrow.”

“As long as you stay off your feet and ice your legs at home every hour,” Dr. Alex told me. I breathed a sigh of relief. “You won’t be able to go to class for a week or two after the surgery. You need to make arrangements with your professors, and I can have the nurse provide you with a note.”

At least I still had school.

In the car, Mom spoke to my dad the whole way home, the phone pressed to her ear while I texted Amber.

Me:I’m having surgery next week.

Amber: What the hell?

Me: I’m coming to class tomorrow. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone with Professor Dickwad!

Amber: I don’t care about him. Are you okay?

Me: I will be.

Amber: Want me to come over tonight?

Me: I’m okay, really. Enjoy your own bed!

Amber: I don’t believe you, Cece.

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