Happy for his buddies, he watched the ball fly though the air and pumped his fist in celebration.
His stomach clutched as his feet flew out behind him and he scrambled to stop his fall.
Too late.
Landing on the floor, he rolled his healing ankle. White spots dotted his vision. Gasping and wincing and cursing at the pain, he collapsed, grabbing at his ankle.
Andy and the personal trainer rushed over, checking him, asking questions. Liam rubbed his hands over his face. This wasn't good.
After an x-ray and a thorough examination, he sat on the training table, staring at his ankle in disbelief.
The mild sprain was better than a major one, but it was still enough to throw a wrench into his recovery.
And ruin his plans for the All-Star game.
Fuck.
Andy rolled the elastic bandage around Liam's foot and ankle. "You need to keep weight off of your foot for three days. Elevate the injured or sore area on pillows while applying ice and anytime you are sitting or lying down. Apply the ice or cold pack for ten to twenty minutes, three or more times a day. After forty-eight to seventy-two hours, if swelling is gone, apply heat to the area that hurts. If by Thursday, you feel like you still need the support of the bandage, call me." He paused and met Liam's gaze. "Scratch that. I want to see you in here on Thursday and look at it myself."
"Don't trust me to be honest, Doc?"
"I know how upset you are about being relegated to the golf cart for the big game. So no, not right now. Even though you didn't feel pain in your ankle before the sprain happened, it was still swollen from the prior injury, and now, from the sprain, it's swollen even more and there's pain."
"Okay. I'll try to stop in." Nope. Not gonna happen. He'd manage on his own.
"There's a game Thursday night, so if you don't come to me during the day, I'll easily be able to track you down when you're in Fin's costume."
He heaved a sigh. "Fine."
"I know you're disappointed. You were progressing well. My hope was that you'd be ready to return to the field with at least some of your gymnastics moves by the end of July. I can't promise that now. The plyometric exercises will have to be pushed off for at least a few more weeks, and we'll need to take them slowly. I know you're not going to like this, but I'm recommending that you don't return to the field in full-on Fin mode for the rest of the season."
Furious at his own carelessness, Liam balled his fists and slammed the exam table. "That's two and a half more months, not counting the playoffs. I can't wait that long." No way. No fucking way.
"Getting back out there too soon is a mistake. You don't have the strength or mobility yet. This sprain is going to set you back another two weeks at least."
"I could try doing the stunts and landing on one leg."
"You could, and then you risk falling over because your sense of balance is compromised. You risk inadvertently landing on the injured ankle, too."
"Andy, I can't lose this job. I was supposed to be back on the field by the All-Star game next week."
"That's not going to happen. I'm sorry."
"Can't we wait to see how I am at the end of the week?"
"The initial treatment of a sprain includes resting and protecting the ankle until swelling goes down for about one week. That's followed by a period of one to two weeks of exercise to restore range of motion, strength, and flexibility. It can take several more weeks to several months to gradually return to your normal activities while you continue to exercise. Next week, we can see where you are in terms of motion, strength, and flexibility, but before this sprain happened, you were at about eighty percent of your strength and mobility. You still need several weeks of therapy before I'll be able to clear you to return to the gymnastics activities on the field."
"I don't like that answer. And Ray's not going to like that answer. I need to be able to give him a positive update." Desperation sped through him. "There's still a chance I could go back early, right? If everything heals and progresses by the book?"
Andy sighed. "Yes. There is a chance."
"Then, you'll back me up if I say things are moving in the right direction?"
"I won't lie to Ray, but yes, I can report that things were moving well, that you had a minor setback today, but I expect that you'll be well on your way to fully functioning soon."
"Thanks, Andy. I owe you."
"You can repay me by listening to my advice. I want to see you back on that field just as badly as you want to be there."
He nodded. "I'll listen. Don't worry. See you in a few days."
“I’ll text you a copy of my instructions. I know it’s a lot to take in. See you in a few days.”
Annoyed with the crutches and carefully keeping his bad ankle off the ground, Liam maneuvered into the golf cart and drove to his office. Claire wouldn't have arrived yet. Thankful for the space and quiet to wrap his head around what had happened and make a plan for going forward, he unlocked the door.
Still, as soon as he sat at his desk, he sent her a text checking in. He hadn't seen her since she'd come down with a stomach bug on Thursday. The team had been on a road trip since Wednesday, so she hadn't missed any games. Hopefully, she'd be feeling better for the next day's home game.
A brisk knock pulled him away from his phone. He grabbed his crutches and hobbled to the door. Maybe Andy had somehow realized that Liam needed an ice pack.
No such luck. Raymond stood on the other side.
Raymond glanced at his ankle. "I just saw Andy. He said you had a
