Page 200 of Check & Chase
She sets the phone aside and turns fully toward me, eyes narrowing as she takes me in. Her gaze lingers on my face, scanning for damage.
“How bad?” she asks, abandoning the stove to cross to me.
“About what we expected,” I say, aiming for casual despite the throbbing. “Cortisone before the game should get me through.”
Her professional mask slips into place—the physical therapist rather than the fiancée—as she helps me to the couch, arranging pillows to elevate my leg.
“What exactly did Dr. Reynolds say?” she presses, hands gentle but thorough as they examine the swelling. “I want the medical version, not the athlete’s interpretation.”
I sigh. “Meniscus tear has progressed. More bone bruising, more fluid. No structural ligament damage yet, but high risk of further injury if I play.”
She nods, expression tightening but not showing surprise. “And after the game? What’s the treatment plan?”
“Surgery. Arthroscopic repair, six weeks recovery minimum.”
“At least,” she corrects, medical knowledge asserting itself. “Meniscus repairs often take eight to twelve weeks for full recovery, especially with pre-existing damage.”
The timeline sends a jolt of anxiety through me. “That long? What about the wedding? The honeymoon?”
Her expression softens, hands stilling on my leg. “The wedding is seven weeks away. You’ll be walking by then, maybe not running or skating, but definitely walking.”
Relief washes through me. “As long as I can stand at the altar with you, the rest doesn’t matter.”
She smiles, though worry still lingers in her eyes. “Sweet talker. Now, what about tomorrow? What’s the plan for getting you through the game?”
I explain Dr. Reynolds’ suggestion. Cortisone and local anesthetic, aggressive taping, minimal morning skate participation.
“It’ll work,” I conclude, with more confidence than I feel. “For one game, it’ll hold.”
Emma is quiet for a long moment, her hands still resting lightly on my knee. Finally, she asks the question I’ve been dreading:
“Is it worth it, Chase? Really worth it? The Cup at the potential cost of your future mobility, your career?”
The question hangs between us, heavy with implications beyond tomorrow’s game. This isn’t just about hockey anymore. It’s about our future, our family, the life we’re building together.
“I don’t know,” I admit. It’s the most honest answer I can give. “But I do know I’d regret not trying more than I’d regret any consequences. This team, this opportunity… it might never come again. I have to see it through.”
She nods slowly, not agreeing but understanding. It’s one of the things I love most about her, this ability to separate her professional concerns from her personal support, to worry about my health while respecting my choices.
“Then we’ll get you through it,” she states simply. “I’ll call Dr. Reynolds, make sure he can be there for the game, and talk to your team’s therapy staff. There are ways to make the cortisone work better, keep the strain down while you’re playing.”
“Have I told you lately that I love you?” I reach for her hand, needing the connection.
“Not in the last few hours. But I’ll accept it as payment for my professional services.”
“Professional and personal services,” I correct, tugging her closer. “Best of both worlds.”
She allows herself to be pulled down beside me, careful not to jostle my leg. “You’re an idiot, you know that? Playing through this kind of injury.”
“Your idiot,” I remind her, kissing her temple. “Contractually obligated to put up with me for life once you say ‘I do.’”
“I’m scared, Chase. Not about the game. About what happens if this goes wrong.”
The vulnerability in her voice twists something in my chest. “It won’t. One game. Three periods, maybe overtime. Then it’s surgery, recovery, and focusing on our wedding.”
She nods against my shoulder, but I feel the tension in her body, the worry she’s trying to contain for my sake.
“I’m going to get you some ice,” she says, extracting herself from my side. “And then we’re going to elevate this properly, with compression. If you’re determined to destroy your knee tomorrow, the least we can do is get the swelling down before you do it.”
