I put my head in my hands, hiding my face from the rest of the room, my heart shattering. I felt the weight shift on the bed. I wiped my eyes, dropping my hands and looking up. Camilla sat there, tears evident in her own green eyes.
“Darling, it’ll be okay,” she said, taking my hand and placing her other one over the top of it and patting.
“It won’t. Come on, Camilla, you know injuries like this break ballet dancers, I’m not silly.” I sighed, sniffing then pulling my hand from hers.
“But there is a small percentage that do come back to dancing. You’ve got to have faith, sweetie,” she cooed.
I didn’t answer. I just threw my head back into my pillow, focusing on the bright hospital lights in the ceiling.
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Why was this happening?
I didn’t have the energy to fight with my thoughts.
“Baby girl,” I heard his voice, crashing through me. I tilted my head up, his intense green eyes on mine. “You’re a fighter, you will come back from this.” He crept onto the bed and pulled me into him, kissing the top of my head.
In that moment, I felt calm, he pulled me from this nightmare, even if only for a minute.
My eyes flicked up when I saw my mum and dad walking back into the room, my mum had clearly been crying again. Conor hopped off the bed and stood next to Chase. Chase’s eyes narrowed on Conor, and Conor threw an icy stare back at him.
My mum distracted me by placing a gown on the end of the bed. “The doctor is coming round to take you down in five, okay?”
I just nodded, I had no words.
She pulled the curtain round my bed as she started undressing me. I winced as she pulled my tights down my legs. I looked down at them, my left leg bruising by the minute. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth to stop the tears coming out again.
“It’ll be okay, sweetie, the doctor is going to fix you,” my mum re-assured me, kissing me on the top of the head. “I promise.”
My eyes fluttered open, looking round the clinical room. A nurse walked over, a warm smile on her face as she checked my observations.
“Hey, Darcey, how are you feeling?” she asked me.
“Okay,” I muttered.
“I’ll go get your parents,” she said, placing the clipboard back at the end of my bed and walking out the room.
I reached over for the water on the side, taking a small sip and placing it back. My parents burst through the door.
“Oh, Darcey.” My mum sobbed as she walked over to me, my dad with his arms wrapped round her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mum.” A small smile graced my face.
“I’m glad,” she said, bending down and kissing me on my forehead. “We have spoken to the doctor, he has decided against casting it. He thinks you’ll have a better chance of healing like this.” She rubbed the back of my hand with her thumb.
“Princess, you look so much better. Your colour is back,” my dad muttered. His mousy brown hair was thinning on top, his deep-set blue eyes still had a glisten to them.
“I think it’s the drugs they’ve given me.” I giggled. “I am so hungry, I haven’t eaten this morning. Still got my banana in my bag.” I groaned.
“Let me see if you’re allowed to eat,” my dad said, walking to find a nurse.
“So, Darcey Monroe, is there something you need to tell me.” Her eyebrows raised, her eyes on mine. I darted my eyes from hers, fiddling with the light blanket that was over my legs.
“Like what?” I questioned her, knowing exactly what she was going on about.
“Conor,” she said quietly.
“Nothing. I just think after what happened, and because he was the one that found me, I think he is just doing his duty to make sure I’m okay and distracted,” I stammered the words then nibbled the inside of my lip.
“Hmm, okay,” she said patting my leg, dropping the conversation just before my dad came back in.
“The doctor will be round in a moment, then the nurse will get you some food.” He smiled fondly at me. Right on cue, the doctor walked in. I looked at his name tag as for the life of me I couldn’t remember his name. Dr Cal Jones. I smiled sweetly at him as he made his way over to the bed.
“How you doing Darcey?” he asked softly, his dark brown eyes on mine. “Not bad” I mumbled.
“Okay, so the surgery went well, I decided not to put you in a cast as I personally think the healing time will be better in just a gator for the moment, then you can start doing some easy exercises and physio therapy which will help strengthen your calf muscle and Achilles tendon. At the moment I can’t say whether you will be back dancing or not. Sometimes injuries like this heal absolutely perfectly, other times they don’t. It comes down to the individual. But, I feel positive and I am hoping you make a speedy recovery, Darcey, I really do. Now, I will hand you over to nurse Cora who will be keeping an eye on you for the next couple of days while you are in here. Please, rest up,” he said as he stood from the bed then turned to face my parents. “Mum, Dad, if you have any questions or concerns, please let nurse Cora know and she will come and find me.”
He walked towards the door, facing me once more. “Take care, Darcey.” He smiled at me before walking out and closing the door behind him.
I let out a deep sigh. Of course I was happy that the surgery went well, but I couldn’t help feeling a little pessimistic that it would be my fate that I wouldn’t be able to dance again.
“You’ll be dancing again in no time,” my mum said quietly as she came next to my bed.
“Zara, let’s leave her be for a while, honey, Robyn is here,” my dad muttered, wrapping his arms around my mum’s waist and dragging her away, towards the door. My face lit up when he said Robyn’s name.
“We will just be in the café,” he said as his blue eyes twinkled at me, my mum’s face crumpling by the minute as she was trying to hold off the tears in front of me. He managed to get her out of the room, giving me a wink as he pulled the door to.
I took this moment to just sit and reflect over the last couple of hours.
What an absolute rollercoaster.
I have gone from being excited about Conor and what could possibly happen and being psyched for my ballet exam, to now being laid up in bed after tearing my calf muscle and ruining my Achilles tendon, to potentially not having a dancing career anymore.
I sighed as I stared out ahead of me at the blank wall, the tears threatening to fall from my weepy eyes. I wanted to cry, a full on choked sob, I wanted to relieve the burning in my throat, but I just couldn’t.
I rubbed my palms into my eyes, pushing a couple of stray tears away when the door handle moved. I pulled my covers up a little higher, I was still sitting in my hospital gown. My eyes eagerly locked on the door as I saw my beautiful, red-headed best friend walk through as she threw herself at me, her arms round my neck.
“God, I have been worried sick.” She sighed. “Honestly, what the hell happened?” She let me go before pulling the chair next to the bed closer to me, resting her feet on my lap as she slouched down on the chair.
“Comfortable, are we?” I teased.
“I am actually, I’m not hurting you though, am I?” Panic laced her voice as she went to move.