Lean on Me || Jill Roord

20. When Juice Spills

Fuck this shit. I couldn't bear anymore physical therapy today; it was absolutely my last straw. Today couldn't have been any worse in every single fucking aspect.

First, I wake up and Jill's not there, and I remember we don't live together anymore. Then I make myself breakfast and pour myself a glass of orange juice. I spilt the orange juice all over my favourite white sweater and needed to do laundry immediately, even though I had done it the day prior, meaning I had no clothes to wash. On top of that PT, today might've been one of the hardest days for me. December couldn't get any worse, could it?

Daphne had changed my training program to be more physical to strengthen my knee even more. I was progressing well, but that didn't mean it wasn't hard. It was to the point where Daphne ended our session early because of the pain I was beginning to feel. That's what was frustrating me the most—the fact that I still couldn't do what I'd normally be able to do anymore. Because of this, my brain was actively working against my body by pushing forward negative thoughts instead of positive ones. Instead of looking for progression, I was looking at what I had lost through all of this.

It didn't help that when I got back to my apartment, my mom was calling no doubt to ask what my plans for Christmas were and if I was attending the family trip to Switzerland. When my mom married Mathias, we started travelling to Germany for Christmas each year; obviously, I loved it and so did Jack. I hadn't confirmed anything quite yet, and I needed to because Christmas was only nineteen days away.

Ignoring the call, I sighed and laid down on my couch, face down. It wasn't even noon, and I already hated today. A knock shattered the little time of silence I had.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I mumbled under my breath, pushing myself off the couch once more and heading towards the door. When I opened it, I was met with Jill, and with a weak smile, I let her in. Trying to ignore the worried look that took over her face when she saw through my smile.

"Are you okay, Caro?" She asked, setting her things down on the counter.

"Yep," I answered curtly, making my way back to the couch. She followed, sitting down next to me but leaving a bit of room.

"Caroline," she began.

"I'm fine." I snapped before grabbing the remote and turning on hockey highlights. I wasn't in the mood to talk, and I wasn't in the mood to deal with Jill's overbearing care for me. I was grateful, but today I didn't want to hear it. Jill looked taken aback by my outburst and mumbled something in Dutch under her breath.

I rolled my eyes and focused on the television.

After a few minutes, Jill spoke again, "How was PT?"

"Fine."

"Is your knee in pain?"

"It's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Can you stop with the fucking questions?" I turned my head and snapped once again. "I told you I'm fine. So that means I'm fine. Can you take a hint?"

She turned away from me, glancing at the television. "Sorry for caring," she mumbled quietly and stood up.

"Jill wait," my frustration faltered. I reached out to grab her arm, stopping her from leaving. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I've just had a rough day and wanted to relax and not have to deal with anything."

Jill hadn't turned around, but I could feel her take in a deep breath before gently undoing the grasp I had on her arm. Then she turned around. I studied her features; I knew she wanted to say something but was holding back. Closing her eyes, she let out another sigh before opening them and locking with mine. "Next time, just lead with that. Okay?" I stood there in front of her, pursing my lips because it wasn't what I'd expected her to say.