unexpected love (Leah Williamson)

The Surgery

Leah's POV:

The morning of the surgery felt like a blur. I'd been awake for hours, tossing and turning, the looming operation filling me with a mix of dread and cautious hope. This was the first major step in what the doctors had told me would be a long recovery, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of it all pressing down on me.

Ella insisted on being there. She picked me up early, navigating through the silence of the city at dawn. She tried to keep the mood light, chatting about anything and everything—work, friends, even some ridiculous story about Beth that almost managed to make me smile. But despite her efforts, the weight of what lay ahead clung to the air between us.

When we arrived, they checked me in quickly, handing me a gown and ushering me into a sterile, impersonal room. I lay on the bed, the cold metal of the IV stand by my side a stark reminder of what was coming. Ella sat beside me, her hand on mine, her thumb tracing small circles on my skin.

"You're going to get through this, Leah," she whispered, her voice steady. "You're strong, and you're not doing this alone."

I met her gaze, searching for something to say. But words felt hollow, so I just squeezed her hand, hoping she could feel everything I couldn't put into words.

A nurse arrived, interrupting the silence, explaining the procedure once more and what I could expect when I woke up. I nodded along, only half-listening, my mind spinning. The nurse then handed me a consent form to sign, and as I scrawled my name, a strange mix of fear and acceptance settled over me.

As they wheeled me toward the operating room, I felt a slight tug at my heart, seeing Ella standing in the hallway, watching. She looked worried but kept a brave face. Just as I was about to disappear behind the doors, she mouthed, "I'll be here when you wake up." Those words echoed in my mind as the world faded to black.

Hours Later

I came to slowly, the fog of anesthesia lifting as I blinked against the harsh lights. Everything felt heavy and distant, the pain in my knee a dull throb. I could feel the bandages, the tightness, the stiffness that would define the coming months.

Then, there was a soft hand on mine. Ella was there, just like she'd promised. Her face was soft, filled with relief as she saw me wake up.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she whispered, brushing a stray hair from my forehead.

I tried to smile, but even that took more effort than I'd expected. My throat felt dry and scratchy as I managed to croak out, "Did they say... how it went?"

She nodded, her smile reassuring. "The surgeon said it went as well as it could. The tear was fully repaired, and now it's all about rehab. You did it, Leah."

I nodded, letting that sink in, but a lump formed in my throat as the full reality settled in. This was just the beginning—a long, difficult path ahead. The thought of months without football, of watching from the sidelines, of pushing my body through pain and exercises, felt overwhelming.

Ella seemed to sense my thoughts, her hand tightening around mine. "You're not doing this alone," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Whatever it takes, I'm here."

The emotion I'd been holding back hit me hard. My eyes filled with tears, spilling over before I could stop them. Ella leaned closer, brushing a hand over my cheek, her own eyes misty.

"I don't know if I can do this," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

"You can," she said, her tone resolute. "I believe in you, Leah. And when you feel like giving up, lean on me. I'll be here."

As I drifted back to sleep, her hand in mine, I felt something that had eluded me for weeks: hope. For the first time since the injury, I believed that maybe—just maybe—I could find a way through this, with Ella by my side.