My heart fell to my stomach… Is this it?
"What do you mean, doctor?"
I could hear my heartbeat increasing every second in my ears… it's deafening.
"You have broken legs and several broken ribs… Honestly, it's a miracle you survived the crash with only broken bones. Your companion, who was in the car with you, lost her legs completely and is still in a co—"
"Why are you telling me this? I asked you to explain my condition, not other people's."
Incompetent doctor… Why is he rambling about unrelated things? Why is he even in charge of me? Can't this hospital find a more competent doctor? I invested here for a reason.
The doctor was taken aback before adjusting his glasses.
"Right… I apologize. If you rest your body completely for the next few months, you should be able to walk again…"
My hands balled into fists, almost digging into the flesh of my palms. My eyes stared daggers at the doctor.
"Just walk?"
The doctor stopped speaking for a moment… his eyes avoiding mine.
I hate this feeling…
"I'm afraid I can't guarantee it's safe for you to continue playing in the future…"
Anger. Hopelessness. Dread.
"Get out."
My ears rang like a thousand sirines going off at once. My hands shook… I felt like my head was going to explode… It's nauseating.
The doctor didn't continue and quietly left the room.
The second the door closed, I could feel my body going limp. It's like every ounce of energy I had disappeared. Is this what tiredness feels like? I've been running around the soccer field since I was 19 and have never felt like this.
"Jordan… Sorry. I know you want to be alone, but you haven't eaten since you woke up…"
God…
This woman again… Can't she even listen to a word I say? Didn't I already tell her I don't want to see her face? But she just put the tray of food on the overbed table…
"What is that?"
I looked at the supposed food on the tray. It looked like someone had puked on it—or maybe it actually was just puke.
"It's porridge… The doctor said you're only allowed soft food."
'Allowed'? What am I, three? I clicked my tongue in disgust, pushing the food away.
"What kind of person do you think I am? I'm Jordan Blythe—the highest-paid soccer player. I'm not eating that garbage."
She sighed before picking up the tray, but instead of taking it away, she had the audacity to try to spoon-feed me.
"Come on, Jordy… It's just to fill your stomach. We don't want your gastric issues acting up."
With all the remaining strength I had left, I slapped her hand away from my face, making the porridge splatter all over her. Ha! Looking at how pathetic she was, covered in that puke-like food… Who could've guessed seeing her so dirty would entertain me this much?
"Go clean yourself. You look embarrassing…"
Her breath became shaky, definitely holding back tears. Wiping the food off her face, she stood up without a word, the tray in her hands. But before she could leave the room, the door was pushed open from the outside, shoving her in the process.
"Oh my God, I didn't mean to… Ma'am, are you okay?"
Isn't he one of the guy in my team. the one from the party? Ron? Rob? Whatever his name was. What is he doing here?