Page 107 of Secret Love

“Thank you. I don’t want Elle to risk it either. But I’m so glad you’re here.” I can hardly get the words out. I’m not used to having a support system like this.

“The guys are right behind us. They got stopped by fans. Sadie and I managed to sneak past,” Weston says. “Have you seen Henley yet?”

“Only at the stadium. He’s still having tests done.”

When my mom reaches me, she wraps her arms around me. “How did he seem?” she asks.

“Like he’s in so much pain,” my voice breaks. I swallow hard and smile at her.

“He won that game,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“He’s the best there is,” Weston says. “I can’t believe Anderson made such a cheap shot.” His eyes are so sad when I look up at him. “I really hope Hen has more time to play—” He stops and swallows, crinkling his face. “I don’t need to say things like that. He’s going to recover and be one hundred percent.”

It’s what we all want to believe, but those statistics I just read are playing through my mind and Weston is more aware of the usual outcomes of this injury than I am. If wishful thinking and positivity can make it happen though, I want to do my part.

Sadie squeezes my hand and we all sit down. Bowie, Rhodes, and Penn gradually make their way to the waiting room and Calista is just arriving when Jimmy sticks his head in the door.

“Henley’s in his room and he’s asking for you, Tru,” he says.

“Tell him we love him,” Rhodes says, and they all chime in as I stand up and walk toward the door.

“And let us know if you need any food or anything,” Calista says. “We can go pick something up.”

“Thanks, guys. I’ll keep you posted.”

Henley’s room is still full when I walk in and move toward his bed. I take his hand and lean in to kiss him. “How are you feeling?”

“Not my best day,” he says, brushing my hair back.

He pats the bed and I try to sit there, but it’s a tight spot and I don’t want to hurt him. I opt for standing.

“It’s what I thought—my ACL is torn. It’s not good.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say softly. “What happens next?”

Dr. Grinstead clears his throat and we turn to look at him.

“We were just talking about it and it was too depressing. I wanted to see you instead.” Henley grins, but I can tell it takes effort.

“Did they give you anything?”

“Yes. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

He puts my hand up to his lips and kisses it. “Better now that you’re here.”

“We’ll see how things look this week,” Dr. Grinstead says. “What the range of motion is looking like after a few days…how Henley responds to physical therapy…and hopefully we won’t have to do surgery, but if so, we’ve got the best of the best on standby, ready to get on the first flight when that time comes. We won’t know for sure if that’s our course of action for another couple of weeks.”

It’s still surprising to me what a different world it is for famous football players, especially since Henley is so down to earth, but he’s treated like royalty everywhere he goes. Even now as we’re talking, a pitcher of iced water and Gatorade are placed next to his bed, with a better-than-any-hospital-food-I’ve-ever-seen meal. Henley thanks the guy, who blushes furiously before backing out of the room.

“When can I get out of here?” Henley asks.

“Since there’s no concussion or other internal injuries, we’ll let you go home tonight, but you can’t put weight on this leg, Henley,” Dr. Grinstead says firmly. “Elevate it, ice it, stay on top of the anti-inflammatories. We’ll see how it looks tomorrow. I can’t stress the importance of you taking it easy…and not the way you usuallythinkyou’re taking it easy when you’ve been injured…” He gives Henley a pointed look. “We want that swelling to go way down and we want you playing again. It’s important you take this seriously.”

Henley nods. “I’m taking it seriously, trust me.”

I message everyone that Henley gets to go home tonight and they offer to bring food to the house, but I tell them we’ll be okay. Henley doesn’t have much of an appetite and I just want him to sleep as soon as he can. They stop by the room before they go and huddle around his bed.

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