Page 19 of The Marriage Rebound

An angry stream of “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” filtered up from downstairs.

That was Courtney.

Wait . . . wait, that was Courtney. “Courtney!”

I sat Vuitton down then quickly scrambled out of bed, only to sway and fall back onto it from the sudden movement. A wave of nausea rolled through me, and the low throb in my head made me pause until her pained groans forced me back into action. Courtney was here. Why was she here? It didn’t matter—she was here. At the bottom of the landing sat my wife, resting her head against the wall and holding her arm to her chest.

Oh no. No. No. No. Please no.

“Courtney, wha . . . what happened? Did you fall? How did you fall?” I asked as I slowly made my way to her.

She glanced up at me, her face skewed in a mix of anger and pain. Her gaze moved past me, and I turned to follow her line of sight. Vuitton sat at the top of the stairs, still shaking, ears back, and doing a low whine.

Oh shit! Oh shit! He had a habit of being a tripping hazard. I’d nearly wiped out plenty of times when he’d been super excited about something. My head throbbed as fractured memories from last night flashed and the need to vomit bubbled in my gut, but I fought it back, putting all my focus into helping Courtney.

“Let’s get you up.”

Courtney put her good arm around my neck. It was a bit of a struggle to get her to her feet since I was still unsteady on mine, but I managed. We got over to the couch and fell down with a soft oof.

“What do you need? You need something. Ice. You need ice,” I determined before she could answer.

I hurried over to the kitchen, pulling open the freezer and looking for the ice pack. Once I found it, I wrapped it in a dish towel and brought it back over to her. “Put this on your wrist so it doesn’t swell. What else hurts? Anything else hurt? Let me know. Do you need me to do anything else for you?”

As I talked, I picked up one of the throw pillows and gent-ly laid her arm on it before placing the ice pack on top. She winced and I instantly started apologizing. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you more?”

She shook her head.

I stood in front of her, wringing my hands. Courtney was the strong one. The one who took care of everything. She took care of me—that was why she was even here. I’d been too drunk to drive home so she’d come to get me. I called and she came. She’d left me, but I called, and she came. But now she was hurt.

Seeing her injured, even if not seriously—I hoped it wasn’t serious—had a nervous energy of fear and worry coursing through me, which only added to the nausea sloshing around my stomach. “Does anything else hurt? Tell me what else hurts.”

She craned her neck from side to side and arched her back. “Everything’s a little sore right now. Probably will be worse tomorrow. I hit the stairs pretty fuckin’ hard.” She frowned as she spoke while readjusting herself on the sofa. The strained expression prompted me to move so I could fluff the cushions behind her, doing what I could to ease her discomfort.

She wrapped her fingers around my wrist, looking up at me. “I’m okay,” she said, trying to comfort me when she was the one in pain.

Vuitton still hadn’t come down, and I knew I probably needed to let him out or feed him. Do whatever it was she was gonna be doing for me since I’d been sleeping it off. But he’d have to wait. Making sure all was well with Courtney was top priority.

“Tell me what you need. Do I need to call Khadijah so that she can come check you out?”

Courtney shook her head again. “No, it should be fine. I think I just fell wrong, and it should be okay. Probably just a sprain. It hurts right now, but it’ll ease up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. No need to call anybody. I should be fine.”

I looked at her, skeptical. She had to be joking. My head was still foggy, but I remembered they had a whole list of activities they were supposed to avoid to cut down on risk of injury, and I was pretty damn sure taking a tumble down the stairs would be on the list. “I think, for my peace of mind, I’m gonna call her anyway. Or at least send her a text message. So she can get it when she wakes up and that way she can come over if she thinks she needs to because like you fell. I heard you fall. That’s how loud it was. You fell, Courtney, down the stairs. You need to be checked out.”

“Fine,” she relented with a heavy sigh. “Send her a text, but I think you’re overreacting.” However, as soon as she tried to rotate her wrist, she winced and groaned out a low “Fuck.”

She dropped her head back to rest it on the couch and blew out a long breath while covering her eyes with her other arm. I gnawed on the corner of my lip with a sinking feeling that her injury was not the simple sprain she was trying to sell me on.

“Um . . . I’ll be right back.” I spoke softly, as if the sound of my voice would somehow upset her more.

Back in the room, Vuitton was sitting by my side of the bed, curled up, trying to make himself as small as possible. “Bad boy, bad, bad boy,” I said, while wagging my finger at him.

He whimpered again, which made me feel guilty since I hardly ever fussed at him. I was the “nice” parent. Reaching down, I scooped him up and gave him cuddles. I didn’t want to think of him as a consolation prize since Courtney had done research and made a big deal about surprising me with him. But he was a stand-in at the same time, something to keep me occupied so I stopped bringing up asking about having children. And asking about having her around so much. Regardless, I loved him, and he was my heart, kept me company, and loved me unconditionally. I was his whole world.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re not really bad. You just get excited, but you hurt Mommy. You, you hurt her and now she’s . . .” I let the words die as I rubbed his ears, calming both of us.