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The world came back in soft waves, muffled sounds, and blurred images as Taylor slowly drifted out of the fog of anesthesia. Her body felt heavy, like it wasn't quite her own yet, and the dull ache in her right ankle was the first clear sensation to register in her mind.
She blinked her eyes open, the sterile white ceiling of the hospital room coming into focus. The familiar warmth of a hand in hers grounded her, and she turned her head to see Travis sitting beside her bed, his face etched with concern and relief as he realized she was waking up.
"Hey," he said softly, squeezing her hand gently. "You're okay, Tay. The surgery went well."
Taylor gave him a weak smile, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm glad you're here."
Travis leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Always."
The door to the room opened quietly, and the doctor walked in, a clipboard in hand. He was the same doctor who had informed them of the severity of her injury earlier, and his expression was kind but serious as he approached the bed.
"Good to see you awake, Taylor," the doctor said, his voice calm and professional. "How are you feeling?"
Taylor took a moment to assess her body. The fog in her mind was lifting, and the dull ache in her ankle was becoming more pronounced, though it was manageable thanks to the medication. She glanced down at her right leg, noticing the thick cast that encased her foot and ankle, running up just below her knee.
"I'm... okay, I think," she replied, her voice a bit stronger now. "Just sore."
The doctor nodded, his expression understanding. "That's to be expected. You've been through a lot. The surgery was successful, but the fractures in your ankle were severe, as we discussed before."
Taylor bit her lip, her fingers tightening around Travis's hand as she braced herself for the full prognosis.
"We've immobilized your ankle with a cast," the doctor continued. "You'll need to keep that on for at least six weeks. During that time, you'll have to keep weight off of it completely. After the cast comes off, you'll transition to a boot, which you'll likely need to wear for an additional one to six weeks, depending on how well your ankle heals."
Taylor's heart sank a little at the timeline. She knew it would be a long recovery, but hearing it laid out so clearly made it feel even more daunting.
"And Taylor," the doctor said, his tone gentle but firm, "I have to be honest with you. Performing with a broken foot is out of the question for now. It's likely you'll need to be in a wheelchair for most of your recovery, especially during the early stages when the bone is still healing. We don't want to risk any further injury."
The words hit Taylor like a punch to the gut. The reality of what the doctor was saying began to settle in—the tour, the rehearsals, everything she had been working towards, was on hold indefinitely. She had no need to ask about performing, as the answer was already painfully clear.
The doctor's expression softened as he continued. "With the right care and rehabilitation, there's no reason you can't return to performing, Taylor. But it's going to take time, and you'll need to be patient with the process. You'll also have to see an orthopedist regularly throughout your recovery to monitor your progress and ensure everything is healing as it should."
Taylor nodded, trying to absorb everything he was saying. The road ahead seemed long and uncertain, but there was a glimmer of hope in the doctor's words. She would perform again—it was just a matter of time and dedication to her recovery.
Travis squeezed her hand again, his eyes filled with determination. "We'll get through this, Tay. One step at a time."
Taylor looked at him, finding strength in his presence. "Yeah," she agreed softly. "One step at a time."
The doctor gave them both a reassuring smile. "You're in good hands, Taylor. I'll check in on you later, but for now, just rest and let your body begin the healing process."
With that, the doctor left the room, leaving Taylor and Travis in the quiet stillness of the hospital room. Taylor let out a slow breath, her fingers gently brushing against the cast. The reality of her situation was sinking in, but with Travis by her side, she knew she wasn't facing it alone.
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### Time Jump: Two Days Later
The ride home from the hospital was a mix of relief and trepidation. Taylor was grateful to be leaving the sterile environment behind, but the reality of managing her recovery at home was beginning to set in. Travis helped her carefully into the passenger seat of the car, making sure her leg was elevated and secure before they drove off.
The journey back to their house was quiet, the weight of everything they'd been through still hanging in the air. Taylor stared out the window, watching the world go by, her mind spinning with thoughts of the long road ahead.
When they finally pulled into the driveway, Travis was quick to get out and help her. He moved with gentle precision, lifting her out of the car as if she were made of glass. She held onto him tightly, her heart swelling with gratitude for how careful and attentive he was being.
Inside, the house was warm and welcoming, a stark contrast to the cold, clinical feel of the hospital. Travis had arranged everything to make her as comfortable as possible—a recliner set up in the living room with pillows and blankets, a tray table within reach for anything she might need, and her medication already organized on the side table.
Taylor smiled weakly as she took it all in. "You thought of everything," she said softly, her voice laced with appreciation.
Travis guided her to the recliner, helping her get settled before covering her with a soft blanket. "I just want you to focus on healing," he said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I'll take care of everything else."
Taylor nodded, sinking into the comfort of the recliner. Her ankle throbbed, a constant reminder of the journey ahead, but with Travis by her side, she knew she wasn't facing it alone.
As the day wore on, Taylor drifted in and out of sleep, her body exhausted from the ordeal. Travis stayed close, always within reach, whether it was to adjust her pillows, bring her water, or simply hold her hand when the pain became too much.
That evening, as the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the windows, Taylor felt a sense of calm settle over her. It wasn't going to be easy, and there were days ahead that would test her patience and strength, but with Travis's unwavering support, she felt like she could face whatever came next.
As she lay there, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, she reached for Travis's hand once more. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Travis leaned down, kissing her gently on the forehead. "You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "I'm just doing what anyone who loves you would do."
Taylor's heart swelled with emotion. She squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his love and support envelop her like a protective shield. Together, they would get through this—one step at a time.
And with that thought, Taylor allowed herself to drift off to sleep, knowing that when she woke up, Travis would be right there beside her, ready to face the challenges of tomorrow.
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