The room was silent except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant sounds of the hospital. For once it sounds nicer than complete silence in such a situation. Normally I like the silence in tense situations but I don't think I'd be able to deal with a deadly silence today.
I sat beside Lieke on the small, uncomfortable couch in the waiting area, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. She was staring down at her hands, her fingers nervously picking at the edge of the blanket draped over her lap. I could tell she was trying to stay calm, but the fear in her eyes is undeniable. We're all scared yet we aren't her, we don't have to go through the emotions she's going through on such a scale.
This wasn't just any injury. If the doctors confirmed what we both feared, a torn ACL, a potential career ending injury that has a long recovery period, it would mean months of physio, rehab, and time away from the game she loved. I could see the worry on her face, the what-ifs playing out in her mind. She had been through injuries before like we all have, but this felt different. It felt bigger, scarier, more dangerous.
I reached over and took her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze and a reassuring smile. "Whatever happens, I'm here with you," I said softly. "We'll get through this together, okay?"
Lieke glanced up at me, her eyes filling with unshed tears. She nodded, but I could see how hard she was fighting to keep it together. "I know," she whispered. "I just... I don't know what I'll do if it's really torn. I've heard the stories, how hard it is to come back from something like this."
I squeezed her hand again, trying to offer her some comfort. "You're one of the strongest people I know, Lieke. No matter what they say, you'll get through it. And you won't have to do it alone. We're all here for you. I'll be here for you... every step of the way."
She gave me a small, shaky smile, but it didn't reach her eyes, her normal smile was a little bit cheeky but joy always filled her eyes, yet that hasn't happened here and I don't blame her for not feeling happy, I mean its a horrible situation, if it was me id be sulking in a corner with a scowl on my face. "Thank you. I'm just scared, you know? I've worked so hard to get to where I am, and now... now I might lose it all."
My heart ached for her. I knew how much this meant to her, how much she has gone through to be at the top of her game, the intense training she put herself through. Seeing her like this, so sad and afraid, made me wish I could take away all her pain and uncertainty.
We sat in silence for a few more minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts. The silent waiting was agonising, each second stretching out longer than the last. Finally, a nurse called Lieke's name, and we both stood up, our hands still clasped together. She gave me a quick, nervous glance before taking a deep breath and walking toward the examination room.
I followed her inside, feeling just as tense as she was. The doctor greeted us with a warm smile, but I could see the seriousness in his eyes. After a few routine questions and a physical examination, he pulled up the scans they had taken earlier, his expression carefully neutral.
"Well, Lieke," he began, his tone gentle, "we've reviewed the MRI results, and I'm afraid it's not the news we were hoping for."
Lieke's grip on my hand tightened as she stared at the screen, her breath catching in her throat.
"It's an ACL tear," the doctor confirmed, his voice softening. "It's a complete tear, which means you'll need surgery to repair it, followed by a lengthy recovery process. I'm very sorry."
For a moment, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Lieke's face went pale, and I could feel her hand trembling in mine. I squeezed it reassuringly, even though my own heart was pounding in my chest.
"I know this is a lot to take in," the doctor continued, "but with the right treatment and rehabilitation, many athletes do make a full recovery. It's going to be a tough journey, but it's not impossible."
Lieke nodded slowly, her eyes still fixed on the screen. "How long?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It's usually around nine to twelve months," the doctor replied. "It varies depending on how the rehab goes, but we'll be with you every step of the way."
Lieke's shoulders slumped, and I could see the weight of his words settling on her. Nine to twelve months. A whole year away from the game, from everything she loved. It is hard to imagine.
The doctor gave us a few more details about the surgery and the next steps, but I could tell Lieke was barely processing it. When he finally finished and left the room, she just sat there, staring blankly at the floor.
I didn't know what to say, so I just stayed by her side, letting her absorb the news. After a long moment, she finally spoke, her voice trembling. "A year, (Y/n/n). I'm going to be out for a year."
I pulled her into a hug, holding her close as the reality of the situation sank in. "I know," I murmured. "It's a long time, but you'll get through it. You're stronger than you think."
She clung to me, burying her face in my shoulder. "What if I can't come back? What if I'm never the same?"
"You will," I said firmly, my voice filled with conviction. "You're one of the best players out there, and this won't change that. You'll work hard, just like you always do, and you'll come back even stronger. And I'll be with you every step of the way. If anything your come back better than before, given the time."
Lieke pulled back slightly, her eyes red and filled with tears. "Thank you," she whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you right now."
"You don't have to worry about that," I replied with a small smile. "You'll never have to do this alone, Lieke. We're in this together, all the way."
She nodded, taking a deep breath as she tried to steady herself. "Okay... it's just scary."
"I know it is," I said softly. "But you're not alone in this. You've got me, the team, and everyone who cares about you. We'll get through this, one day at a time."
Lieke managed a small, shaky smile. "One day at a time."
