Page 12 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

“You okay?” Karyn whispers.

“Fine,” I lie.

Dain’s head is down, scrolling on his tablet, barking at the sound guy about levels. Good. That gives me a few more seconds to pull myself together.

We reach the house, and I straighten up, letting go of Karyn. I plant both feet on the ground and immediately regret it; the pressure on my ankle is agonizing. But the camera is rolling, so I smile.

“Hi, I’m Hannah Morgan, and I’m here with Jessa and Kejuan, who are working on this beautiful 1895’s Victoria. Jessa, tell me about your vision for the space.”

Jessa’s nervous, stumbling over her words. We do the interview three times before we get a clean take. By the end, sweat is beading on my back despite the cool spring afternoon.

“One more,” Dain calls.

The final interview is quicker with only two takes.

“That’s a wrap,” Dain calls out. “Great work, everyone. Same time tomorrow.”

Relief floods through me, and I almost faint. Karyn is beside me immediately, slipping her arm under mine.

“I got you,” she murmurs.

“Thank you.” The words come out choked. I’m fighting so hard not to cry, my mouth aching from the effort.

She helps me back to the trailer. Every step is torture now, the medication wearing off. By the time we reach the stairs, I’m shaking.

Inside, I collapse into the chair and kick off my shoes. My foot is worse now… more swollen and discolored.

Mia’s face goes white. “Oh, my God. That’s broken, for sure. I’ll take you to the hospital. Let’s get you to my car.”

Anxiety fills me. The hospital means a public waiting room. It means a chance of being recognized and photographed. But it also means there will be evidence of my injury getting out before the network can spin the narrative.

I can’t hide this anymore.

They help me stand, and I realize I can’t put weight on my foot at all now. Barefoot, I hop on my good leg, supported between Mia and Jaina, while Karyn gathers my purse.

I scan the set as we make our way to the parking lot. The photographer from this morning is gone, but there are still crew members around. I keep my head down, mortified, imagining the story headline. Hannah Morgan injured on set. Is the hosting gig already in jeopardy?

Mia’s car is a blue SUV parked nearby. Karyn holds the door open while I climb awkwardly into the back and prop my foot up across the seats.

The drive to the hospital takes ten minutes, and I spend it messaging my manager. Answering questions like, how long will recovery take? I reply that I’ll call after I’ve seen the doctor.

All three women come inside with me, and I’m overwhelmingly grateful. Karyn rushes ahead to check me in while Mia and Jaina help me through the automatic doors. The waiting area isn’t too crowded, but there’s still the fear of every eye on me and every phone that could be recording.

I don’t know what Karyn says to the woman at the desk, but within a minute, a wheelchair appears, then a doctor and two nurses surround me, ushering me toward a private room away from the main waiting area.

I frown and whisper to Karyn, “What’s going on?”

She leans close. “They know who you are. They’re trying to keep it private for you.”

My throat tightens. “Thank you.”

As I’m wheeled down the hallway, I realize I haven’t seen any cameras except for early this morning. Maybe I got away with this.

No photos of me carried to the door or headlines about the reality contestant and influencer actress that couldn’t make it through day one.

The exam room door closes behind us. My shoulders sag, and my head drops back against the wheelchair.

“You did so good today,” Karyn says softly, squeezing my shoulder.