We've Got This

My smirk didn’t last very long, though. Unfortunately for me, the doors to the hall that the after party was in were stuck open, so everyone that looking toward the door probably saw my knee almost completely give out on me once Patrick and I got into the hallway. However, luckily for me, I looked back once I hit the floor, and no one was looking our way. “Holy shit, are you okay?” Patrick asked as he helped me steady myself against the wall.

I shook my head, breathing heavily from the pain, my face contorting. “No,” I grunted. “I destroyed my knee a few weeks ago playing softball, and I’m pretty sure I made it even worse tonight,” I continued. “I don’t think I can stand anymore right now.” At this point I was on my good right leg, clutching the wall to make sure I stayed vertical.

“What do you mean you destroyed your knee? You seemed to be walking and dancing just fine earlier,” he said, standing really close to me to make sure I didn’t fall. We were in a really awkward position for everyone that could potentially walk by.

“Completely torn ACL and partially torn meniscus,” I replied, adjusting my stance and trying to get comfortable.

“And you haven’t had surgery yet why?” he asked, looking at me like I was insane. “You know those injuries don’t fix themselves or get better on their own, right?” he continued.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Captain Obvious. I know they don’t heal on their own. I already did the ACL on my right leg when I was 17, but that was just the ACL. I haven’t had surgery yet because I wasn’t planning to or expecting this one to get worse. I know I did more than tweak it tonight; I’ve tweaked it before, numerous times, but those tweaks always felt better almost instantly. This pain has just gotten worse as the night has gone on,” I said, the pain getting to be almost unbearable. “I really need to get upstairs,” I added.

He nodded emphatically, wrapping his arm around my waist as I pushed off the wall. “I think you need to go to the hospital, not upstairs,” he said, giving me a concerned look before we started walking.

“I’m not letting you, or anyone in there,” I said, looking back at the party, “take me to the hospital. I’ll fight through the pain tonight, and ask Jamie if he could take me once we get back to Dallas.”

He then started to slowly walk, but I couldn’t put any weight whatsoever on my left leg, so I quickly almost fell to the floor. Instead of helping me stand again, Patrick just carefully picked me up bridal style and of course, it was at this point where the one and only Tyler Seguin had to make his presence known. “So let me get this straight. You won’t let me explain myself, but you’ll let Patrick Kane carry you off to bed with him? Are you fucking kidding me?” he scoffed as he approached. “And what’s that? Did you get a tattoo?” he asked, pointing at my left arm.

All of the sudden the pain seemed to go away momentarily, and it was replaced with anger. “Go fuck yourself, Seguin. This isn’t even close to what it looks like,” I said, climbing out of Patrick’s arms and gingerly standing up. “And well spotted; it’s not like it’s in plain sight or anything,” I scoffed, answering his tattoo question.

He smirked at that. “That’s what I have Ali for. You’re just lucky Kane wants to get with everything that moves and has a vagina.” I lost it at that point. I hobbled over to him, slowly, making him raise an eyebrow at me, and slapped him so hard across the face that I hoped his teeth would start bleeding. “What? Can’t handle the truth?” he asked, rubbing his cheek.

I shook my head. “How fucking dare you,” I said, fighting back the tears both from what he had said and the returning pain. I let a tear escape as I leaned down and carefully lifted my dress over my knee, revealing the brace. When I looked up for a second, his expression had completely changed. I knew my knee was swollen beyond belief thanks to the new damage I had inflicted on it tonight, so it was a little bit of a struggle to get the brace off. Sure enough, when I managed to roll the brace off, my left knee was twice the size of my right. “That’s right, have that look on your face,” I scoffed through my tears. “I fucking destroyed me knee and can’t walk, you asshole,” I finished, letting Patrick carefully pick me up again before he turned to walk toward the elevator.

“Jean, please,” Tyler started, his tone now one of regret and sorrow instead of anger like a few minutes ago. “I’m so sorry, please.”

I got Patrick to turn around for a second so I could respond. “Why don’t you go and fuck your girlfriend. Apparently that’s all you have her for,” I replied, and Patrick promptly entered the waiting elevator, leaving Tyler to soak in my response.

A few minutes later Patrick was opening the door to my room and taking me inside. “Where am I putting you?” he asked, looking around the room.

“On the bed closest to the window,” I replied and he nodded, putting me down gently.

“Do you need me for anything else?” he asked, sitting down next to me on the edge of the bed.

I shook my head. “No, I’m okay. Thank you so much Patrick. For everything. You really didn’t have to do any of this for me; I probably ruined your night,” I said sadly. “And I’ll totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me or anything after tonight; I don’t think I made a very good first impression,” I chuckled, pointing down to my leg.

Patrick shook his head and grinned. “You’re an awesome girl, Jean; of course I want to talk to you more after tonight. And seriously, I didn’t even know you were hurt while we were dancing and having fun, so that didn’t factor at all into your first impression,” he replied, and I smiled. “But I would talk to Seguin though. I know he said some fucked up shit down there, but you know why better than I do, and he looked really sorry when you showed him your knee,” he added. “He seemed like he really likes you.”

I scoffed. “I really don’t feel like talking to him right now, or in the near future. You don’t need to know the whole story, but I will tell you that he was basically leading me on all summer since I met him in April,” I replied.

“Still, I would give him a chance. Here, give me your phone,” he said, and I took it out of my clutch and handed it to him. “I’m going to give you my number. If you ever want to talk or get together, don’t hesitate to text or call. I know you’re a diehard Hawks fan, so I’m sure you won’t be stupid about timing these get-togethers,” he chuckled, typing his number into my phone before handing it back to me. “Anyway, I think you need to get some sleep, or at least try. I’ve never had a bad knee injury like this, but I’m gonna guess that you’re in for a rough night,” he continued, standing up. “Do you need anything else before I head out?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m good. My pajamas are here on the bed, and that’s all I really need. Again, thank you so much, Patrick,” I said, giving him a smile. “And it was really great meeting you.”

He grinned and nodded. “It was great meeting you, too, Jean. Don’t forget to call or text. And let me know how this whole knee thing goes,” he said before he left the room, gently closing the door behind him.

Once he was gone I carefully took off my dress and put on my pajamas, and then I grabbed some extra pillows and elevated my leg. I then reached over to my purse to take some pain medicine, hoping it would help. But by this time the pain was so bad that I finally broke down and cried, hoping it would also help me fall asleep.

Fortunately, the mix of crying and medicine did help me sleep for a few hours, because when I woke up and looked at the clock, it was 2:30am, and I saw that Jen was out cold in her bed next to me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t fall back to sleep once I woke up; the pain was back at an 11, and I just wanted to cry some more because I couldn’t take the pain anymore.

So, instead of crying in bed and risking waking Jen up, I climbed out of bed, grabbed my crutches and room key, and left the room. I was kind of roaming without a purpose, so I settled with going down to the pool. I didn’t have my swim suit, so I figured I would just put me feet (or foot, if my left leg didn’t want to bend at all) in the water.

And that’s exactly what I did. I carefully sat down at the edge of the pool, took of my flip flops, and tried to bend my left leg as far as I could. Luckily, it bent just enough to go under the water, but I had to scoot back a little bit so I could rest it against the side of the pool.

Once my legs were all set and semi-comfortable, I decided to just lie down on the patio, my crutches next to me, staring at the ceiling. After a few moments the pain got to me again, and so I covered my face with my arms and tried to control my crying as best I could, so I wouldn’t draw too much attention to myself. I think my left leg drew enough attention; it was twice its normal size right now. The lifeguard asked me a few times if I was okay, and it was getting annoying, but I knew that it was his job….and I was the only one at the pool at this time of night.

Or so I thought.

“You can’t sleep either?” I heard an all too familiar voice ask as they sat down next to me.

“I’m in too much pain to even think about sleep,” I sniffled. “Why are you awake? It’s almost three in the morning. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not really in the mood to get into another shouting match with you.” I was in way too much pain and was way too tired to even try to be angry at him now. Plus, I couldn’t run away from him, so I guess I had to be civil at least. I just stayed put on my back, uncovered my face, and looked at him, eyes still watering and tears running down my face.

He sighed when he looked at me. “I don’t want to get into a shouting match either; that first one should have never happened. I’ve just had a lot on my mind tonight, and it’s all been keeping me awake,” he replied, rubbing his face and beard with his hands. “I uh…I broke up with Ali tonight,” he said, looking down at me.

I didn’t really know what to think, let alone what to say. So I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Oh? Why’s that?” I asked. I wanted to say that I was sorry, and that I felt bad, but I didn’t.

He sighed again, this time not able to look at me. Instead he stood up and walked away, and I heard him drag a pool chair toward me. “Come here,” he said softly, lifting me up by my arms. “If we’re actually going to talk, I want you to at least be as comfortable as you can be,” he continued, helping me get over to the chair and sitting me down.

He then went and grabbed a bunch of towels and put them under my knee, trying to make it more comfortable. “Thank you,” I said softly as he sat down on the ground next to me. “Don’t sit on the ground,” I said, reaching for him. “There’s plenty of room on this chair with me.”

He nodded and took my hand, taking the empty space on the chair next to me. “So, where do we start?” he asked.

Notes