Dance With Me {l.t.} ✔

Chapter Ten

“It’s not broken,” the doctor said, but I could tell there was more to the story.
Currently, Simon and Louis were on either side of me on the couch, and my foot was propped on a pillow on top of the coffee table, where the doctor was squatted and examining it. “You know that without an x-ray?” Louis asked, coming in hot with the sass. I squeezed his hand in mine to remind him to calm down. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . are you sure?”
Much better.
“So what’s going on?” Simon asked.
“Well,” he turned my foot to the side, and I couldn’t hide my wince. “Oh, I’m sorry. I believe it’s just a sprain, but it may also be  hairline fracture across the top of her foot. Either way, the recovery time and process is the same.”
I was thinking he would keep speaking, but apparently, we were going to have to ask permission to hear how healing would go with this. “Which is?” I finally asked.
“Well, I would like you to stay off of it completely for the next two weeks.” Not possible. “After that, I want you to go in for a quick follow-up, but everything should be fine by then. No cast, no brace, just stay off the foot.”
“I can’t do that,” I said quickly, cutting off whatever Simon or Louis thought they were about to say on my behalf. “I need to perform tomorrow night. It’s nothing intricate, and I can rechoreograph the tricks, but I can’t miss the shows these next few weeks.”
The doctor seemed to think about it for a moment before answering me. “I don’t entirely recommend it, but we could make it work. If you play it safe on stage, you can perform, so long as you stay off the foot AND in an air cast for the entirety of the time you are not on stage. That includes rehearsal times.”
“Deal,” I answered immediately.
“We will keep running like that for the next four weeks, instead of two, and you will get checked out weekly to make sure nothing is being messed up by allowing you to dance on the foot. Got it?” He looked around at all three of us.
“Got it,” we said together.
“Wonderful,” He smiled, standing to leave. “Simon, tomorrow morning, I’ll drop off the air cast and some pain medications for Milana.”
“Okay, thank you.” Simon and Louis both shook the doctor’s hand before he left the hotel room, and we were alone again.
“I’m sorry I messed up your FIFA tournament, Lou,” I apologized, turning to curl into Louis’ side for some cuddles. He gave me a kiss on my forehead.
“Don’t worry about it, M. How are you feeling?” I just shrugged.
“Feeling well enough for a quick chat?” Simon asked, casually. “Just because I’m already here, there’s no reason for us to wait until tomorrow morning for a meeting.”
I was nervous now. Even if things were going well publically, what about what just happened? Would Simon let that affect things? Would it have a negative effect? Was he just going to straight up fire me? 
“Sure,” Louis didn’t seem bothered by jumping down to business. Meanwhile, my foot felt like it was dying, it was still swollen, and I was exhausted at this point. I wanted this ‘meeting’ to go by quickly. “How do things seem to be going?”
“Fairly well, actually,” Simon smiled. “I think we will let you two have a night out together this next week. I would say two nights out, but I think that will just be a lot of time out on crutches for you, Milana. However, Louis . . . you boys have an interview in a couple days. Lottie will be back in town with Lou, and I was thinking it would be super easy for Milana to join you all on that. She will have something to do and people to be around while you lot are busy, and it gives you two some time together without throwing you two out on a date.”
We both nodded in understanding, and I saw Louis let loose a smile that rivaled mine. It was nice to be given time together outside of hotel rooms.
“The media is throwing together article after article about all the ‘proof’ that you and Eleanor have been split for months now, so everything is going exactly to plan. Just a couple more weeks, and the two of you can free roam as you please.”
“Kinda,” I laughed, pointing down to my foot. “We have about four weeks for that to leave me room to roam.”
We both had a good laugh about it before Simon excused himself for the evening. I was still upset about being foolish enough to hurt myself in the shower, of all places, and the pain was really getting to me. “Louis, can we just go to bed now?” I whined.
“Oh, of course, love. Here, let me help you get to the bed.” He really was such a gentleman, and I was glad he didn’t seem as frustrated about the injury as I did.