The Accidental Wife (Emily and Julian)

"Rosie, wake up, please." I hear Silas's voice and feel him shaking ine gently. I open my eyes, wondering if I have slept in, but everything seems so dark to be morning.

"What's going on?" I sleepily ask as I lean against my forearm.

"Do you think you can take me to the hospital?" I frown at his question. Why does he want to go to the hospital in the middle of the night?

He turns on the lamp on my nightstand and motions to his knee, I gasp the moment I lay my eyes on it. It is very swollen and red.

"Okay, give me ten minutes. I will wash my face and get dressed I quickly get out of bed. "Do you need me to help you out?" I ask, looking at him.

"Do you think you can bring me a pair of shorts?" he requests and I immediately nod. I head to the dressing room and grab him a pair of black shorts. I also bring myself a T-shirt and some sweatpants.

I help him put on the shorts, then he sits down I help him with putting his sneakers on. "I'm so sorry for waking you up the middle of the night." He truly sounds sorry and I hate that he thinks he needs to apologize for asking for help when he is in great need of it. "I thought about calling Tristan."

"That wouldn't have been wise. I'm your wife, Silas. You should turn to me," I say, staring into his brown eyes for a moment. He should know that even if we're not on the greatest terms, I will always have his back whenever he needs me.

It's been two days since our fight and other than sharing 'good morning' or 'good evening, we said nothing to one another. I'm glad that he's respecting my wishes; however, I don't know what I should expect in the end.

It takes me less than ten minutes to get ready. Helping Silas down the stairs isn't easy, He cannot bend his knee at all. I'm worried that this may be a side effect of the surgery. He was fine and as far as I know, he has been attending his physiotherapy session, so seeing his knee triple its normal size almost eight weeks after the surgery is scary.

I move the passenger seat backwards to give Silas enough space to sit comfortably. It takes us twenty minutes to get to the nearest hospital and another thirty minutes for a doctor to see him.

Luckily, the doctor tells us that it's something normal to happen after an ACL surgery and there's nothing to worry about. However, Silas needs to stop physiotherapy for the next ten days, so his knee can recover. And of course, icing it is very important.

Apparently, he cannot sleep upstairs because taking the flight of stairs daily won't help with the swelling. Silas needs to limit his movement for the next ten days to be able to attend physiotherapy regularly afterwards.

While the doctor is delivering the news to him, I keep my eyes on Silas. He may seem composed from the outside, but I know that he wants to scream at the top of his lungs. He is already not doing well, so the mere idea of more limitations is certainly going to drive him crazy.

When I offer him my hand as the doctor is talking, he immediately takes it. At this moment, I know how vulnerable my husband must be feeling and I'm aware that he hates it so much. He doesn't take the idea of being vulnerable well at all.

"Ready to go home?" I quietly ask after the doctor clears him to go.

"Yes," he murmurs and attempts to stand up on his own. Part of me wants him to do it, because I know how he is going to view any sort of help provided to him; however, another part can't see him struggling or in pain.

"Should I get you a wheelchair to take us to the car?" I cautiously ask, not sure how he may take this.

"I don't care," he mutters in defeat. This is a tone I'm not used to when it comes to Silas.

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A nurse comes with a wheelchair and he wheels Silas to our car. The car ride home is silent and I'm not sure if there's something I'm supposed to say. I hate the state he is in. I may be upset with him, but that doesn't mean that I enjoy seeing how hurt he is. When we reach home, I help him get to the couch, but before he sits down, I turn it into a bed, so he can be comfortable.

"Silas, is there anything you want to say?" I ask softly after he lies down.

He stays silent for a couple of seconds, not looking at me. Eventually, his eyes meet mine and I swear, the look I see in them breaks my heart into a million pieces. "I'm sorry," he whispers and closes his eyes. "I'm so sorry for holding you back and exhausting you. I'm so sorry for turning into a burden. I'm incredibly sorry for hurting you. I'm so sorry for a lot of things, Rosie." The last few words almost get caught in his throat. The change in his tone is killing me.

What am I supposed to tell him? Do I tell him that he is forgiven? Am I supposed to forgive him just because he is hurt? I know that he is sorry, but I'm hurt too. I can't believe what he has said to me. He threw at my face something I'm not proud of. I hate what I did during that period of time. I hate not choosing him and pushing him away. He spent a lot of time assuring me that all was forgiven and he didn't hold that against me, but then he said what he said and now I'm rethinking everything.

"Please, don't hate me," he murmurs as he pulls himself up. "Listen, I will cut down on drinking. I will do anything you want to make it up to you. Just please, forgive me. It feels like I'm losing everything and while losing football is hard, losing you is way harder and more painful." When he reaches for my hand, I don't pull it away.

I give in and bend down to hug him. He doesn't waste time to hold me with all the strength he has in his body. I tighten my hold on him too, because it is obvious that he needs to be hugged.

My heart clenches in my chest when Silas sniffs and I turn my head to kiss his cheek. He doesn't cry a lot, but when he does, he makes me want to swim oceans to stop his tears.

"Please, don't cry," I whisper, gently pulling myself away to wipe his tears with my fingers. "I promise you won't lose anything. This is just temporary, Silas."

"It may not be temporary. I read a lot of articles about ACL injuries and according to them, the knee may not get back to its original strengths. A lot of athletes retired after coming back from an ACL injury. They stayed for one season after recovering, then they retired. I don't want this to happen to me, Rosie. I'm not even thirty yet. I don't want to retire this early." I'm thankful that he's speaking to me about his fears.C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.

"But according to your doctors, you're expected to make a full recovery, so maybe we need to focus on that for now. Don't expect the worst, baby. You're still young and you have a healthy body. You should keep that in mind," I say as I run my fingers through his hair. He looks down and chooses not to say anything. "Tell you what? Let's just forget about everything for the night and get some sleep, yeah? I will go get us some blanket or duvet." I get up from my place, but he stops me by holding my hand.

"Are you going to sleep beside me?" His tone is hopeful.

"I am." I smile at him before going upstairs to fetch a blanket for us.

When I come back downstairs I find Silas waiting for me. Since his left knee is the injured one, I sleep on the outside of the couch. The moment my head touches the pillow, Silas carefully pulls me towards him.

"I don't want to hurt you." I look at him, but he shakes his head.

"You won't." He kisses my temple and keeps me close to him. "I love you so much, Rosie."

"I love you too," I mumble, closing my eyes.

I really hope things can get better for Silas.