I couldn't watch. I’d never had anything popped back into place like this. I’d had bones re-set, but that was done in surgery while I was unconscious.
A minute later, there was a loud pop and JP yelled out in pain. My heart squeezed for him.
The surgeon said he’d be back in a little to go over some more information and quickly exited the room. JP’s eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, but his right arm finally looked like it was back in a more normal position. His left hand gently touched his right shoulder.
“Does it feel better?” I asked hesitantly.
He gave a slight nod with his eyes still closed. His nose flared with a deep breath before he cracked one eye open. “Come sit by me?”
I gently maneuvered my way onto the table next to him. His left hand fell limp on my thigh. He opened his hand, wordlessly asking me to hold it, and I immediately intertwined my fingers with his.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
I gave his hand a squeeze. “For what?”
“For staying here with me.” He peeked one eye open at me again. He looked a little unsure of himself, a little vulnerable. If I wasn’t afraid of hurting him, I'd throw myself at him for a hug. Instead, I settled on hugging his left arm.
I’m not sure how long we sat there in peaceful silence together, but one thought kept circling my brain:What if I wasn’t here?JP would be in here dealing with this injury all by himself. Mer or Piper would’ve surely come to help him, but eventually, they'd go back to their own homes and JP would be alone again. Just the thought of him sitting here alone made me tear up.
“Hey, you good?” he asked, craning his neck to try to see my face.
I sniffled up my tears. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. You’re the one who’s hurt, not me.”
“Nah, I’m okay.”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore?” I asked in a hopeful voice.
His eyes dropped to the floor. “It’s not that bad,” he lied, making me more teary. When he looked at me, a little amusement danced in his eyes. “You going soft on me, Al?”
“I’m sorry,” I said shakily, wiping my face with my jacket sleeve. Now that he was more or less okay, the tidal wave of emotions I’d been holding back since he went down on the ice came crashing forward.
“No, don’t be sorry,” he said quickly, rubbing my hand with his thumb. “I like it. C’mere.” He pulled me back into him and kissed my head.
I relaxed against him, vowing to myself that neither of us would be alone ever again. I knew with a quiet confidence that we’d always be there for each other and for our babies, no matter what.
____________
“Most people can get away with having one dislocation, but when it goes a second or third time…” Dr. Benson weighed his head to the side. “That usually means it's going to keep coming out. On top of that, you’ve unfortunately sustained a significant amount of tissue damage. So, we’ve got a couple different options here. We could be proactive and go straight to surgery, or we could do rehab for eight to twelve weeks and see if things improve, but you might still need the surgery, so you’d be out even longer.”
“How long will I be out if I do the surgery?” JP asked.
“Really depends on how your body takes it, but I'd ballpark three to six months.”
His jaw dropped. “Months?”
Dr. Benson pointed to the imaging and explained what was going on, but I focused on JP’s face. His mind was moving, calculating, piecing it all together.
“What does rehab look like after the surgery?” he asked abruptly.
“It’s a slow recovery. Can’t hold more than a pound for—”
“Schedule the surgery,” he said immediately. He ran his tongue over his teeth. “As soon as possible.”
“Are you sure?” I whispered. My cheeks heated up from all the eyes in the room suddenly on me.
“I’m not going to change my mind.” He flinched as he shifted his body. “Schedule it,” he said again.
The surgeon’s eyes bounced between us. “We’ll give you folks some time to talk it over,” he said before ushering the medical team out of the room.
