Into The Deep End - A Roman Reigns Story

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The transition of an athlete to inactivity is always a tough road for every sportsperson, and it was no different with Joe. The first few days after his emergency surgery were rough. He was still in pain and had to stay in bed most of the time, and when he had to walk around he had a hard time doing it on his own. He was always tired thanks to the medicine prescribed to him. Sasha and his sisters ensured he was following the Doctors' instructions to a tee. They monitored his meds, kept him drinking lots of fluids and eating plenty of vegetables, fruit and high-fiber foods. Whole meal bread, pasta and brown rice, which he particularly disliked, were regulars on his menu. Sasha could tell that he hated the changes and hated having to rely on people for help, but that was the way it had to be for now and she gently tried to remind him that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Due to Joe's sudden injury, the WWE officials decided to vacate the Tag Team Championships, much to the Samoan's chagrin. Jon had offered to hold the titles with Colby so as to keep them within the Shield, but Vince and Paul were skeptical about Dean Ambrose holding the United States and Tag titles at the same time, so the pitch was turned down. Joe became unhappier than ever, going as far as to blame himself for costing Colby the title, even after the Iowa native insisted otherwise. Joe was feeling left behind as the product continued on without him. The fear of never recovering fully, of never reaching the level he was at prior to his injury nagged at him. He was very low on confidence and it was difficult to get his spirits back up.

However, it wasn't long before his cranky behavior started to irritate Sasha. He was angry all the time and found fault with everything everyone did, including his sisters. He moped around and was moody and picked arguments over the pettiest things, and it was getting old real fast. Sasha had nursed T.K. back to health from a sports-related injury a couple of times but it was nothing of this scale, and he certainly didn't give half the lip her boyfriend was giving her - probably because he knew she would've smacked him silly, but still. She understood Joe was frustrated but it was no excuse for his attitude. Though she couldn't lash out, it was becoming harder to rein in her own displeasure.

"What's this?" Joe sat up in bed, looking down at the tray of food she placed in front of him.

"Roast chicken, pasta and vegetables," said Sasha, walking over to draw the curtains open, the bedroom in dire need of some sunlight.

Joe stabbed a fork into the fillet. "There's oil in the chicken."

Sasha replaced the pillow he was resting on with a fluffier one. "It's roasted chicken. There's barely any oil in it."

"How come you didn't grill it though?" He was actually pouting.

"Roasting was faster for me, babe," she replied patiently. "Besides, I'm not great with the grill setting on your oven. What's the big deal anyway? There isn't much difference between roasted and grilled."

"Grilling is healthier," Joe said sternly in that know-it-all, second-coming-of-Einstein voice he used that he probably thought made him sound smart. "More fat drips off when you grill. The last thing I want is to gain weight while I'm recovering."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "One chicken breast quarter is not going to make you fat, Joe."

He made a sound under his breath, and it took all of her willpower not to clock him in the head with the pillow she was holding. "Should I throw your food away then?" she questioned, barely-concealed irritation in her tone as she planted her hands on her curvy hips.

Joe frowned, and right then he looked like a petulant five-year-old. "I'll eat it," he answered begrudgingly. "Grill the chicken next time, okay?"

"Yes sir," she muttered under her breath as she picked up her handbag and started to leave.