Swollen Sorrows

BROOKE

I wake up to complete darkness. Disoriented, it takes me a second to figure out what woke me, but then I hear a muffled noise coming from the bathroom.

Instinctively, I shoot up, not thinking about my surroundings. I’m too familiar with sounds coming from my bathroom!

“Dammit, Luna!” I whisper as I grab a shirt from the floor and throw it over me. It must be Colin’s, given the size. Oh, right…Colin. All the memories of last night wash over me in a delicious wave.

I don’t see him in the bed, though, and I realize I didn’t feel him against me when I got up, either. I can’t spare a minute wondering before I bolt across the room to interrupt Luna before she makes a mess of my toilet paper, again.

“LUN—” I whisper-shout as I push the door fully open, expecting to catch her in the act of destroying my bathroom with another of her midnight snacks. But instead, to my surprise, I find Colin lying on the bathroom floor.

“Colin!” I whisper sadly, as my hand flies to my mouth in shock; Colin looks back at me with sad, solemn eyes.

He’s lying there with his foot elevated, propped up on the side of my tub. His injured foot is swollen to twice the size of the other one, and I can see the pain set into the lines of his face.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” Colin says, looking down to the floor and gently petting Luna’s head as she rests it on his lap. It’s like she knew he needed comfort.

I kneel down beside him on the cold, tiled floor. “You should have woken me,” I say quietly, stroking his arm until he finally looks back up at me.

“Why would I ever want to do that?” he says with a small, loving smile.

I look down at his foot to examine it. He looks devastated, like he’s afraid all hope is lost in his recovery. “It’s going to be okay, Colin. It’s just the process of healing. I see it all the time,” I say, trying to make him feel better.

He just shrugs. “Yeah,” he tries to agree, but I hear the depression and doubt in his voice.

“You just overdid it today with therapy, and tonight, standing on it for so long, and…with…a lot of things…” I blush, thinking of all the events of the last few hours.

A chuckle escapes his lips; I’m glad I could make him laugh, if only slightly. “Worth every bit of it,” he says, making me smile.

“Come on, it’s not comfortable here on the floor, and you need to elevate your foot higher.” I help him to his feet, swinging his arm over my shoulder for support.

“Easy does it,” I say encouragingly, “don’t put any weight on it.” I walk slowly beside him as he hops back to the bed. Then I run into Sydney's room to grab more pillows and pile them high under his foot so it’s elevated above his heart.

“Have you taken anything for the pain?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine,” he says, but I see him clench his jaw every time he moves even slightly.

“Like hell you are!” I give him a look. “I’ll be right back with some pills and a bag of ice.”

I run down to the kitchen and flick the lights on. Getting to work, I grab a Ziploc bag and shovel ice inside for a makeshift ice pack. Next, I go to the upper medicine cabinet to grab some pain pills. It’s only then that I notice my hands are shaking.

I fiddle with the child safety lock of the pill bottle until I’m so frazzled I just throw it on the counter. Then I sink down to the floor of my kitchen, breaking down in tears.

I want to just focus on his foot. I went to school for this. I know what to do about a swollen foot. But it’s too late; I saw Colin’s face. He looked broken inside. Defeated, depressed, shattered, just…broken.

Like he’s given up on fighting for his recovery.

It’s happening to me, again! I just let him in. I just let my walls fall down for another man, and now it’s happening all…over…again. His life is crumbling at his feet, and I can’t be there to pick up the pieces and be left behind…again!

I wallow for a few more moments on the floor, pitying myself…ironic, since I hate it so much when anyone else shows me pity. Then I collect the bag of ice and pills and head back to Colin.

“Here,” I say, not making eye contact as I place the bag of ice on his foot. I go over and hand him the pills with a bottle of water by the nightstand. Before I can walk away, he grabs my hand and pulls me in to sit on the bed beside him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing.” I stare through the darkness in the room.

“Hey, look at me.” He pulls my face in to rest on his forehead.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me weak like that. You’re always telling me to be careful with my foot, well…you were right. Feel free to say ~I told you so~.”

I let out a tiny laugh that feels more like a sob. “I did tell you so. But that’s not…I want to help you, when you’re in pain. I don’t want you to hide from me.”

He frowns, which feels weird with our faces still pressed so close together. “What is it, then?”

I pause, wondering how much I can say. “I told you I’d be there for you, to help you recover and get your career back. And I will. But right now, your career is like a teetering see-saw.

“Maybe you’ll be lucky, and you’ll get back to playing at the top of your game. Or maybe you’ll end up spiraling downhill…just like John. I know nobody has any guarantees about the future, but I don’t know if I can handle that uncertainty.”

Colin is silent for a long moment, and my heart sinks. I know this is a sore subject for him. I know he doesn’t want to think about the possibility of anything other than a football career. I shouldn’t even have brought it up.

Then, it’s like something shifts. “No matter what happens to me, I’ll be here for as long as you want me.” He says it firmly, but his face is so innocent and vulnerable, I can’t help believing him. I practically melt right there in his hands.

“I do want you, Colin,” I whisper back, locked in his eyes.

“Then I’m not going anywhere. No matter what. I promise.” He seals his words with a kiss that tells me he means every word.

I sink once again, but this time instead of sinking into despair, I’m sinking into his kiss, and his warm embrace that I never want to let me go.