About 2 weeks later, one afternoon, as I sat at the kitchen table, my cast on a spare chair and crutches against the wall I was lost in my thoughts, John entered the room and he was concerned. His eyes scan my face, searching for answers to the questions he hadn't yet voiced.
"Charlize, something has been off lately. I can sense it and I'm not talking about your poor ankle that you broke" he said.
"Is there something you're not telling me?"
My heart skipped a beat, and I struggled to find the words.
"John, there's something I need to tell you,"I began, my voice trembling.
"I've been seeing someone else. It's been going on for some time now but it's over" His eyes widened, a mixture of shock and disbelief.
"Charlize, how could you?"
Tears well up in my eyes as I try to find the right words, "I never meant for this to happen. It was a moment of weakness, a longing for something I thought was missing. I've found myself entangled and felt I could no longer escape."
Silence settles between us, the weight of the truth hanging heavy in the room. I reached for my crutches, for their familiar support. Slowly, I began the descent down the staircase, each step a calculated move. The words of the young woman with the broken arm echoed like a warning at this moment in time in my life.
"One word of advice Charlize be very careful what you wish for"
As if the world had conspired against me for cheating on my husband, my illusion of control shattered. In a cruel twist of fate, my left crutch lost its footing. Time seemed to slow down, every second feeling like 5. My loud screams were drowned out by the bone-chilling sound of my legs breaking, haunting sounds like nothing I had ever heard before.
As if caught in Karine nightmarish gymnastics dismount, my body spiralled down the narrow stairs, limbs bent and twisted in unnatural angles. The pain, sharp and unrelenting, tore through me with an intensity I had never known.
I was delivered a harsh lesson.
The descent felt interminable, and as I crashed to the ground, incredible pain surged through my shattered legs, I knew that life as I knew it had forever changed.
John's eyes widened with horror as he rushed to my side.
"Charlize! Don't move, I need to call for an ambulance right away!"
"Oh god John my legs" I couldn't move.
As the sound of sirens grew louder, the ambulance arrived with a sense of urgency. My leg cast was broken in 2 places with the foot portion bent inward, The paramedics swiftly assessed the situation, their trained eyes scanning my leg cast and "healthy" long leg.
One paramedic gently supported my head and neck and put on a neck brace, while assessing my level of pain. "1 to 10 Miss", 13 I said. Meanwhile, the other paramedic carefully examined my legs to determine the extent of the damage. Their touch was gentle, yet firm, as they worked to gather crucial information.
Once they had gathered the necessary information, the paramedics began the process of splinting my probable broken legs. They carefully immobilized each leg, using padded splints to provide support and stability.
Throughout the process, the paramedics offered reassurance they could tell I was scared.
With my legs properly splinted, they lifted me onto a stretcher with utmost care. It was a small comfort amidst the chaos and pain.
X-Rays and examinations at the hospital revealed the devastating truth that both my legs were broken, fractures spreading across my tibia, fibula, and femur. After the long surgery I realized the intensity of the damage when I woke up in a sterile hospital room and found myself confined to a traction bed, my legs immobilized as the doctors worked diligently to stabilize the fractures.
Let me tell you something, even in my wildest dreams I had never seen something like this. Each of my broken legs were attached to an intricate network of pins and screws, piercing through my flesh and securing me to the traction device that truly emphasized the severity of my condition. The cold sensation of the pins piercing through my skin sent shivers down my spine, a constant reminder of the intricate mechanics holding both my legs together.
The once sexy red cast that had symbolized my affair, desire and pleasure had transformed into a prison of excruciating pain.
But like anything I faced in life I was going to make the best of the situation. Days turned into weeks, and the traction eventually gave way to two very long full leg casts. Eight long weeks loomed ahead wheelchair bound.
Alone in the hospital room, as I lay there, staring at the long white casts, I couldn't help but question the choices I had made. Maybe in a way the pain from my broken legs mirrored the emotional pain I had inflicted on John. I knew the road ahead would be challenging for both of us but John's support was amazing.
"I never expected this, Charlize," John said, his voice filled with sadness..
"But I still love you, and you need me more than ever with 2 broken legs. I want to rebuild what we've lost."
I reached out and grabbed his hand.
"John, I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused. I want nothing more than to heal and rebuild your trust brick by brick."
We sat in silence, the weight of our words hanging heavy in the air. The journey ahead was uncertain, but we were committed. Some would say I have no choices with 2 broken legs.
Tomorrow was going to be the start of a new chapter in our marriage. Little did I know that John had a special attraction to see me in a wheelchair with both legs casted and was it the end of my relationship with Roberto?
Part 8 to come
K
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