Page 121 of Off Pitch

The door to Knox’s room opens again, and Dr. Agarwal walks out. “Mr. Spencer says you’re both welcome to return now.”

We follow Dr. Agarwal into the room, and Lucia and I take the seats to the side of his bed. He looks stressed now, so I’m guessing the imaging wasn’t great.

“So,” Dr. Agarwal says, grabbing our attention. “Just like everyone suspected, it’s indeed a hamstring injury—a grade two hamstring strain, more specifically. Because the hamstring didn’t tear completely, surgery won’t be necessary. It did tear significantly, though—more than half of it has torn. Because ofthat, he needs to take it easy for a while. I want him on crutches for at least a few days, and then he’ll start physical therapy.”

Dr. Agarwal takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Even with all of that treatment, he will need to stay off of his leg as much as possible. The RICE method is the recommended treatment—rest, ice, compression, and elevation.” He turns his attention to Knox now. “Now, Mr. Spencer, do you live alone?”

“I do,” Knox replies, voice strained.

“Then I recommend having somebody stay with you for the next few weeks. You’re going to need help if you’re to stay off your leg so you can recover.”

“I doubt anyone will want to stay and care for me, Doc.”

“I will,” I say softly before I can think better of it. “I mean, I am your girlfriend, after all. I’m happy to help you out.”

Knox gives me a sweet smile as Lucia eyes me curiously. Dr. Agarwal says, “Well, there you go. It seems like you already have that worked out. We’ll set you up with a pair of crutches and a referral for physical therapy. In the meantime, I’ll get your discharge paperwork started. We’ll send you home with instructions that your girlfriend can help you go over in the morning once the Morphine wears off.”

Dr. Agarwal wishes Knox well and leaves the room. And the weight of what I just did falls on my shoulders.

I just agreed to stay with Knox to help him recover.

I’m going to belivingwith him for at least the next couple of weeks.

Living with the man who sent my heart into a freefall.

What could possibly go wrong?

forty-five

Knox

The Morphine must haveworn off overnight because I wake up in a lot of pain Monday morning.

I’ve had some grade one hamstring strains, which have always healed in a few days. Grade two is significantly more painful.

“Fuck,” I say more loudly than intended as I sit myself up in the bed. I desperately want pain medication right now, and I need to go find some. I need my crutches, though, because I want to follow the doctor’s orders to get back on the field as soon as possible.

My crutches must have fallen overnight because they aren’t leaning against my nightstand anymore—they’re lying on the floor about three feet away from my bed. “Goddammit,” I mutter, figuring out how I’m going to hobble over to them without hurting myself more.

But then I hear footsteps in the hallway leading to my bedroom door.

Harlow.

In my haze this morning, I completely forgot she agreed to stay with me and help me while I recover.

The woman that has me going out of my fucking mind is going to be living with me for at least the next couple of weeks.

I can’t decide if that’s going to be good or bad. But I don’t have time to consider that now when Harlow lightly knocks on the door a few times before slowly pushing it open. “I thought I heard you,” she says, walking into the room with a glass of water and what looks to be a bottle of over-the-counter medication. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m in a lot of pain, honestly,” I admit. “I’ve had hamstring injuries before, but this is the worst one.”

“Yeah, your MRI showed a pretty bad tear.” She sets the water and pill bottle on my nightstand. “Take some of the Aleve; it’ll help with your pain and swelling.”

She bends down to pick up my crutches as I ask, “Where did you get the medicine? I usually only have Advil lying around.”

“I ran to the pharmacy before you woke up,” Harlow says, leaning my crutches against my bed as I take two pills from the bottle. “Naproxen lasts longer and always provides me better pain relief. Figured it would work well for you, too. I also grabbed a shower chair while I was out because you need to stay off your leg, and, no offense, I’m not bathing you.”

I laugh heartily. “Fair enough,” I say with a smile. “Thank you, Harlow. I appreciate you helping.”

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