Chapter 3 Sienna #2
Elise swung her legs toward the edge of the bed as if she was going to stand. Sienna stepped forward without thinking and put her hand flat against Elise's sternum, pressing gently but firmly. "Don't."
Elise stopped. Sienna's hand was on her chest, over the sports bra, and the heat of Elise's skin seeped through the fabric into her palm. Elise's heartbeat thumped against her fingers, rapid and strong. Elise looked down at the hand, then up at Sienna, and their eyes locked.
Sienna went still. The distant roar of the crowd was muffled to a low hum.
It was a second. Maybe two. Sienna's hand on Elise's chest, Elise looking up at her, and neither of them breathing. The touch had nothing to do with medicine and everything to do with the fact that Sienna was touching her and didn't want to stop.
Then Sienna pulled her hand away. She took a full step back and turned to the counter, putting space between them, reaching for the phone with fingers that weren't quite steady.
Her palm was tingling where it had rested against Elise's chest. The rhythm of that heartbeat lingered on her skin, strong and fast.
She was forty-one years old and a licensed physician and she had just touched a patient's chest to prevent her from aggravating an injury.
That was a clinical decision. It was appropriate.
It was within her scope of practice. The fact that it had also been the most intimate thing Sienna had experienced in years was irrelevant and would be locked in a drawer she never intended to open.
"I'm going to call Phoenix Ridge Hospital and arrange an MRI." Her voice came out steady. Thank God. "Dr. Mars is the department head, and she's a hockey fan, so she may be willing to expedite."
She pressed the hand flat against the counter while she dialled with the other. Behind her, she heard Elise exhale. The fight had gone out of her. The bed creaked as she settled back against the wall.
"Fine."
Sienna made the call. The phone rang twice, three times, and then Dr. Josephine Mars answered on the third ring, brisk and warm despite the hour. Sienna explained the situation quickly: Valkyries centre, mid-game injury, suspected labral tear, needing an MRI tonight if possible.
“Elise Moreno?” Josephine's voice warmed immediately. "Of course. Bring her in tonight. I'll make sure the scanner is available and I'll review the images personally."
"Thank you, Dr. Mars. I really appreciate you accommodating us."
"Josephine, please. I've been watching the game on my office television. Dreadful hit. That Kowalski woman should have been thrown out in the first period." Her voice carried the righteous indignation of a true fan. "Tell Elise we'll take excellent care of her."
Sienna hung up and set the phone down. She let out a small breath of relief. The scan was arranged. The logistics were handled. She could be useful now, as she was trained to be useful, and that was comforting.
She turned back to Elise. The anger had dimmed.
In its place was exhaustion, quieter and harder to look at.
Elise was sitting with her injured arm cradled against her body, and the fight had gone out of her completely.
She looked smaller without it. Smaller and younger and more fragile than a professional athlete had any right to look, sitting on a treatment bed in a sports bra with a shoulder that might not heal right.
Her dark hair was falling out of its ponytail, loose strands framing her face, and her eyes were focused on a spot past the wall, somewhere Sienna couldn't follow.
Grief. That was what it was. Not for a person, but for a future that might have just changed shape.
"You can go straight to the hospital for the scan tonight. Dr. Mars will see you personally. She's going to review the images herself and she was very confident she could fit you in right away."
Elise nodded. Didn't speak. Her throat moved as she swallowed.
Sienna hesitated. This was the point where she should hand Elise off. Get her a ride to the hospital, give the player services coordinator a ring, return to the game and do her job. That was the protocol. That was what she did for every other player.
But Elise looked so alone sitting there on the treatment bed, stripped of her armour and her purpose, and the fear in her eyes went deeper than protocol.
"I'll come with you," Sienna said. The words came out before she'd fully decided to say them. "To the hospital. I should be there to review the imaging results with Dr. Mars, and it'll be quicker if I can brief her on my findings in person."
That was true. It was also not the real reason, and Sienna suspected they both knew it.
Elise looked at her. The surprise was brief, a quick widening of her eyes before she blinked it away. "You don't have to do that. It's late."
"I know. But I'd like to." Sienna held Elise's gaze. "If that's okay."
The silence between them lasted three beats.
Elise searched her face, and whatever she found there made the last of the tension drain from her posture.
Her shoulders dropped. Her grip on the treatment bed loosened.
For the first time since they'd walked into this room, she looked like someone who'd been offered a hand instead of a verdict.
"Yeah," Elise said quietly. "Okay. Thanks."
The word was soft, and simple, and it sat in Sienna's chest like a held breath released.
Sienna pulled a chair beside the treatment bed and sat down.
The medical room was quiet except for the distant, muffled sounds of the game still being played a hundred metres away.
She could hear the crowd through the walls, the bass rumble rising and falling with the play, punctuated by sharper bursts near the goal.
She pulled up the game tracker on her tablet and set it on the edge of the bed between them so they could both see the score and the clock.
Elise looked at the tablet. Then at Sienna. Gratitude crossed her face, brief and unguarded. She didn't say thank you. She didn't need to.
The third period was running out. The score was still 1-1.
Toronto were pressing hard, hemming the Valkyries into their own zone with sustained pressure, and the game tracker showed shot after shot directed at Dani's net.
Sienna imagined her in goal, tall and composed, making saves with that preternatural calm.
Beside her, Elise stared at the screen. Her jaw was tight.
Her good hand was balled into a fist on her thigh.
Every muscle in her body looked coiled with the effort of watching a game she should have been playing.
When the tracker showed a dangerous Toronto chance, Elise's whole body tensed, leaning toward the tablet as if she could will the puck away from the net through sheer force.
Sienna glanced at her and then looked away. The intimacy of this moment was unexpected: the two of them alone in the quiet medical room, huddled around a small screen, sharing a moment that felt private even though twenty thousand people were experiencing the same game just a few walls away.
Then, with forty-three seconds left, the Valkyries broke out. The play moved from Dani to Lou to Rowan to Lex, who was streaking up the left wing with that terrifying speed. She cut inside, deked the defender, and fired a shot that beat the Toronto goalie cleanly over the blocker.
The arena exploded. Even through the walls, the noise was enormous, a tidal wave of sound that vibrated through the floor.
On the game tracker, the goal registered: LANDRY (CALDER, PIKE). 2-1. The celebration went on, and on, and through the walls Sienna could hear the chant starting. Lex. Lex. Lex.
Elise closed her eyes. Her jaw was set so tight the tendons in her neck stood out.
Sienna watched her. Elise wasn't just hurt.
She was watching the team she loved win without her, watching the woman she feared was replacing her score the winning goal, and she was sitting in a medical room in her sports bra with a shoulder that might not heal and no one to tell her it would be okay.
Sienna wanted to reach for her hand. The impulse was so strong it was almost physical, a pull in her chest that had nothing to do with medicine.
She wanted to say words that weren't clinical, words that acknowledged the grief that had nothing to do with a labrum tear and everything to do with watching the life you'd built move on without you.
She didn't. Professional distance. The rules she'd set for herself, the boundaries that kept everyone safe, including her.
But she stayed. She sat beside Elise Moreno in the medical room and listened to the muffled sounds of celebration filtering through the concrete walls.
Cheering. Music. The thump of sticks on the locker room floor.
The Valkyries had won, and somewhere down the corridor, twenty-odd women were hugging each other and spraying water and living the best version of their lives.
In the medical room, the quiet held. Sienna could hear Elise breathing. Could hear the faint tick of the clock on the wall. Could feel the heat of Elise's body beside her even though there was a full foot of space between their chairs.
Neither of them said a word.
Neither of them moved to break it.
After a while, Elise spoke. Her voice was low and flat, scraped clean of emotion. "We should go to the hospital. Before it gets any later."
"Yes." Sienna stood and began gathering what she'd need for the hospital visit. "I'll drive. My car's in the staff lot."
Elise didn't argue. She just sat on the edge of the treatment bed with her injured arm cradled against her body and her eyes on the floor, and Sienna packed her bag and tried not to think about the woman she was leaving to treat and the distance she was supposed to keep and how badly she wanted to close it.