Page 32

I rush out the door as soon as Heidi and Lily are settled, and within a minute, flat, I’m in the car and speeding toward the hospital. I explained the whole situation when I called Heidi this morning, practically begging her to come in on her day off. Thankfully, she is a saint and was able to move some things around, and could spend the day with Lily. I know I could’ve asked Ziggy, and that time will come, but for now, I’m not going to bother her when she is at work.

Anxiety fills my veins, my heart pounding, leaving me feeling like nothing but worry and nerves wrapped in skin. I’m sure Oren’s doing fine this morning. He sounded okay when I talked to him. But telling myself that isn’t the same as believing it. I pull into the hospital, this time paying attention to the parking space and the lot I've parked in. I grip the steering wheel tightly for a moment before I let go, taking several deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down. Rushing into his room in full blown panic mode isn’t going to do anyone any good.

Before heading inside, I check my reflection in the rearview mirror. My hair’s a little unruly, my cheeks flushed from rushing around. I quickly fix my hair, smoothing it down, and adjust my shirt. Then I pause, realizing how ridiculous it is that I’m wasting time making sure I look good, for Oren, of all people. This isn’t a damn date, there is absolutely no reason to be worried about my appearance. I shake my head at how absurd I am acting and get out of the car. I dismiss the thought from my head and enter the hospital.

I’m practically sprinting by the time I get to his door, and without stopping to knock, I burst into Oren’s room. My breath catches as I take in the scene. There, standing beside Oren’s bed, is Elliot and Ford Jensen. In addition to them, is a striking redhead; her sharp blue eyes take me in as I come to a stop just inside the door. Next to her is a tall, muscular, gym-bro type in a lab coat, looking equally intense.

My heart skips a beat at the sight of Oren, sitting up in bed, bruises in various states of healing covering all of his exposed skin. But at least he is awake. Our eyes meet momentarily, and he looks exhausted but still gives me a small, tight smile. I can tell by his body language that he’s hurting. “Rachel, there you are. Dr. Lyons, meet my fiancée, ” he says.

I blink, caught completely off guard. “Hi.” I echo, glancing between the doctors and Oren. He’s joking, clearly, but equally committed to maintaining my devious ruse from last night.

Ford’s mouth flops open as he exchanges a stunned look with Elliot at my introduction. Elliot’s face is an unreadable mask. Neither of them get the chance to blow my cover before Dr. Lyons gets back to business, completely unfazed. I move to the opposite side of Oren’s bed, mirroring the boys, as Oren motions for the doctor to continue. I stay quiet, listening to everything Dr. Lyons says. My stomach tightens at the severity of everything, but I keep my face neutral, absorbing what I can.

I feel like I’m missing something. The way doctors keep bringing up a concussion as if it isn’t in the present day. Something doesn’t add up. I glance at Oren, then back at Dr. Lyons, “Wait, what concussion are you talking about? What happened?”

Dr. Lyons looks at me, her expression serious but calm. “Oren suffered a minor concussion prior to a recent suspension. It seems he didn’t get it properly checked out before returning to play. It’s likely last night's injury compounded on top of that one. Concussions should be taken seriously, so what might have been minor before is now much more serious.”

I blink, processing the information. “You didn’t tell me about a previous concussion,” looking at Oren, frustration creeping into my voice.

“I felt fine. I didn’t want to sit out longer than I had to,” Oren mutters, clearly trying to downplay what’s happening.

I suck in a breath, trying to remain neutral, but hearing this isn't making it any easier. Now, in the moment, realizing how serious it is, is a lot. And it pisses me off that he didn’t take care of himself sooner.

“What?” I whisper, almost to myself. “Why didn’t you get it checked out?”

Oren looks up at me, guilt flickering across his face. “I didn’t know. There’s been a lot going on, I figured I was fine. It didn’t seem like a big deal.” His voice is softer now, and I can see the regret behind his words.

“Well, it’s a big deal, and I’m worried now,” I say, a little sharper than I intended. “You have to take care of yourself, Oren. This is more than just hockey now.”

“She’s right,” Dr. Lyons’ expression hardens, her tone firm. “I believe this goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway. You’re out for the rest of the season. Only time will tell what next season will look like. You don’t want to hear this, but you need surgery on that ACL as soon as possible and you need to let yourself heal.”

The words hit him hard. I can see it in the way his shoulders tense, the bitter edge in his voice when he mutters, “Great. Just great.” I swallow hard, feeling so bad for him.

Dr. Lyons raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything about Oren’s attitude. “You have a couple of options, and ultimately the team has the final say, but I can advocate your wishes if you would like. I am an orthopedic surgeon, so I am highly qualified to take you on as a patient and perform the surgery. This will require you staying in town for an extended period of time and getting the approval of the team. Or we can get you set up with a surgeon recommended by the Red Wolves back home in Phoenix to manage your care and perform the surgery, if that’s more convenient.”

Oren immediately shakes his head, sitting up a little in bed, wincing as he moves. “No, I don’t want to go back to Arizona. I want you to do my surgery.” His voice is firm, and hearing him say that immediately makes me feel better. He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay.

Dr. Lyons studies him for a moment, then nods. “Alright. I will speak to the team’s doctor about it. This could be a difficult few weeks. You will need someone here who can monitor your concussion symptoms and help with your recovery. It’s a long process, Oren.”

There’s a beat of silence, as Oren looks over at Elliot, looking like he is asking for a lifeline. None of us are sure how any of this is going to work. Before I can fully think through what I’m about to say, the words tumble out of my mouth. “He’ll be staying with me. I’ll take care of him.”

The room falls quiet. Oren looks at me, his surprise mirrored by everyone else in the room. Even Dr. Lyons raises an eyebrow, glancing between Oren and me, clearly trying to figure out why two people who are allegedly engaged look so surprised by the series of events unfolding.

“I think staying with your fiancée could be the best call, Oren.” Dr. Lyons says.

Ford looks between us, wide-eyed, and lets out a low whistle. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

I feel the embarrassment start to creep up my neck and into my cheeks, but I stand my ground. I keep my gaze steady on Oren, unsure green eyes searching mine, and I can see the hesitation in them. A look that says he is searching to see if I'm doing this against my will, or if it is out of guilt, or because I want to. Beneath that uncertainty is something deeper, something rawer. Pure gratitude.

“You don’t have to do that,” Oren says hoarsely, like he’s afraid of my response.

“I know,” I reply, “But I want to.” Oren needs help, and he is my family now. I’m not going to let him go through this alone. Not anymore.

Dr. Lyons clears her throat, drawing our attention back. “If that’s settled, we can start making arrangements to get the surgery scheduled as soon as possible. For now, there is nothing for you to do but rest. My team here will take it from here.”

I nod, even though my heart is racing. I have no idea what I’ve just signed either of us up for, but there’s no turning back now. Dr. Lyons is going over all the details, but my brain is spinning. Surgery. Monitoring concussions. Recovery plans. And the cherry on top is that Oren is now my new semi-permanent housemate. What was I thinking?

Ford clears his throat, breaking the tense silence. “Alright then,” he says with a grin. “Looks like you’re in beautiful hands, man. Dr. Lyons’, not Rachel’s. No offense,” he says, giving me a sheepish look.

Elliot, standing beside Oren’s bed, claps a hand on his shoulder, the tension in the room easing slightly. “And I’ll be around if you need anything. Just don’t expect any sponge baths from me during your recovery,” he adds with a smirk, his way of trying to lighten the mood. He moves toward the door, “I’ve got to get to work, but I’ll make plenty of time for the two of us to catch up.” He gives both of us a pointed look before making his exit.

Ford chuckles, and his eyes flick toward Dr. Lyons, unabashedly watching her. Heart emojis practically shoot from his eyes. “I’m only a phone call away,” he says, voice dripping with enthusiasm. “You know, in case you need anything, Dr. Lyons.”

Dr. Lyons raises an amused eyebrow. “Thank you, Ford,” she says, her tone polite but firm. “But I’ve got it under control.”

Ford, never missing a beat, flashes a smile. “Of course, but I’ll leave you my phone number just in case. I’m always happy to help.”

Dr. Lyons smiles for a fleeting second before coughing slightly and ensuring the mask of professionalism is back in place. She gives all of us a small nod and a promise that she will be back with more details later and heads out of the room, Ford following after her like a puppy. For the first time in a while, I'm left alone with Oren.

The room feels different now, heavier. I’m not sure if that heaviness is good or bad. It’s certainly quieter, like we’ve stepped into a situation that’s going to completely change everything. Now that the deal is done, how is this supposed to work?

Oren looks up at me from his bed, his tired eyes searching my face, and I know he’s waiting for me to say something. Not wanting to push me but also needing to get me talking about what we’ve just agreed to.

“So…” I start, my voice a little uncertain. “This is happening, huh? You’re moving in for a while.”

He smiles softly, but I can see the strain behind it. “Yeah, looks that way.”

I lean against the side of his bed, crossing my arms, trying to figure out how to navigate this. “I’m serious about this. I’m happy to help. You need to heal. Lily needs you around.” My voice softens at that part because it's true. I want him around for more than just Lily, even if that thought terrifies me a little.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” he says, his voice rougher than before, his gaze on the bed. “You’ve got enough on your plate with Lily, and now you’re adding me on top of that.”

I bite my lip, considering his words. It is a lot, and it could be overwhelming. The idea of Oren being there every day, depending on me, is definitely an unknown, but I’m not going to let him do this alone. “You’re not a burden, Oren,” I say firmly. “We’ll figure it out. It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll make it work.”

He looks up at me, his eyes softer now, more vulnerable. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

I smile, even though I feel just as unsure as he does. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just take it one step at a time, okay?”

There’s a long pause, and then Oren reaches out, his hand gently squeezing mine before letting it drop back to the bed, “Okay.”

We sit in the silence for a few moments, both trying to figure out what this new arrangement will look like. It’s uncharted territory for both of us, but for the first time since Oren has been in our lives as a more permanent fixture, it feels like we’re moving in the same direction, operating within the same orbit.