The Fall That Should’ve Changed Everything… Didn’t
They got engaged shortly after that.
And then I got hurt.
It happened because of a list.
Her list.
“These gifts need to be picked up today,” Amanda said. “And don’t dawdle.”
It was snowing hard—thick, sharp flakes that stung your face and made every sidewalk a gamble.
I came back with my arms full of heavy packages, stacked too high to see properly.
That’s when I slipped.
One second I was walking.
The next, my foot slid out from under me like the ground had been pulled away on purpose.
I went down hard.
The kind of fall where you don’t even feel pain immediately… because your brain hasn’t caught up yet.
Then it hit me.
My leg was on fire.
My arm felt wrong.
And the last thought I remember before I blacked out wasn’t “I need help.”
It was:
Amanda is going to be furious if I damaged her packages.
I woke up to bright lights, beeping machines, and the dead weight of plaster.
A cast on my arm.
A cast on my leg.
That should’ve been the moment things shifted.
That should’ve been the moment my father looked at me and said, “I’m sorry. I’ve got you.”
Instead, Amanda leaned over me first.
Her jaw was tight. Her eyes were narrow.
“Don’t think this little stunt will get you out of your responsibilities,” she hissed. “You’re still getting everything ready for the rehearsal dinner and wedding.”
I blinked at her, hazy with pain and disbelief.
She straightened, offended by my silence.
“You’re fine,” she snapped. “Don’t be so useless.”
When we got home, she walked up the stairs ahead of me.
I stood at the bottom, gripping the railing with my good hand, staring at steps that suddenly looked like a mountain.
Then Dad came home.
He looked at me and frowned.
“You should’ve been more careful,” he said. “Ice is dangerous.”
No “Are you okay?”
No “How bad is it?”
No “What do you need?”
Just a lecture.
That night, I called the one person I still believed would see me.
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