Exercise
"I guess you were right," Nora conceded quietly, "Exercise isn't good for you." His chuckle was strained, but it was better than wallowing in pain. It was only a few more buildings to the corner, than another short stretch of side walk, he reminded himself constantly. Not even a whole block away from their home. He had not made it a whole block away.
Nora reached up and squeezed his hand that was braced over her shoulders. She chewed her lower lip as he let out a slightly louder cry of pain. Knowing she was upset, he tried to smile, producing nothing short of a grimace. He had to pause again, only traversing the width of one building with her help. Passersby regarded them sympathetically, and made sure not to bump into the couple as they rushed along. After shifting his weight uncomfortably over both legs, Victor assured Nora he was ready to keep moving.
"We can sit you down and I can run home and see if we have a crutch or something you could use for your right leg."
"It's not as bad as it looks," he lied pleasantly. "I think . . . I think I can make it with."
"I'm really sorry," she cast a sad look at him. She watched helplessly as he blinked rapidly, trying to fight back tears that began to sting his eyes. They continued their almost three legged trek, reaching the corner. Victor was not sure which was worse: his sprained left ankle, his cut and bloodied right knee, or the fact that nothing he could say would dispel Nora's guilt. It did not stop him from trying as he leaned towards her and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.
Nora fought her own tears. It was supposed to be a fun little workout they could do together. The scathing reminder that this was all her idea haunted her with every inch they moved. Yet, it would not be fair to cry when her husband was suffering. She believed to no end she should have just gone for a run by herself like she did every time. She pushed for him to come, promising to go at his pace. No, she would not cry. Not now. She would pretend to be strong enough to get him home and contact their doctor. When she was alone tonight after Victor was taken care of, she was positive she would not be able to stop the flow then.
With each step closer to their destination, she tried to take on more of his weight, wishing she could have picked him up and carried him the last short stretch. His hand was tightening on her shoulder, almost to the point of being painful; however, she felt it safe to assume it was nothing compared to what he was feeling. He was forced to walk on his sprained ankle as his other leg was too damaged to fully support his weight.
Their home was in sight. Nora could count the sidewalk squares until they reached the foot of their stairs. Every step elicited a yelp that Victor could no longer keep down. He tried his best to just force his way through, but the electrical pain shot through his legs. Was it just physical pain, Victor could have made it with a clean conscious, but he ached to see Nora upset over him. To hate herself was the last thing Victor ever wanted.
"Can you make it up the stairs?" The four stairs loomed dangerously taller than Nora remembered.
"Yes," his word the only confident part of his answer. At the very least, the railing helped Victor give his wounded knee a bit of a break. Nora was always steady at his side, making sure he did not topple back down to the sidewalk below. They reached the peak, and he wanted to collapse there, yet Nora had taken to quietly encouraging him. Only a few more steps, he repeated her words in his mind, a few more steps to the couch.
"Come on, Victor, we're almost there." She helped him back up to the couch as he fell heavily onto the cushions. It was equal parts relief and searing pain as the weight was off his feet, but his knee throbbed at the sudden movement. He let out a shuddering moan and Nora flinched. She stroked his hair as a quiet tear finally escaped him. Trying to soothe him, she left fleeting kisses on his forehead as her eyes were glued to the blood stain.
Nora ran to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and snatched pain medicine and the first aid kit. Dashing back, she helped Victor stretch out with a more controlled manner, tenderly propping his leg up in the air. He took two pills readily, whimpering as Nora put some ice around the swollen ankle.
"I'm so sorry, dear. I never meant for this . . ." she pressed her forehead against his.
"Don't be sorry. It's alright," he tried to comfort her by nuzzling against her. "I just hit a slick piece of sidewalk. It was not your fault."
"I forced you to go," she sighed as he enveloped her in a hug.
"I wanted to go with you!" he assured her.
"Let's treat your knee and then I'll call the doctor. Hopefully they'll be able to see you right away."
"Does this mean I can sit on the couch and eat ice cream all weekend?" he laughed quietly for her sake, voice trembling. He was rewarded with a timid smile as Nora rolled up the leg of his pants.
"Yes, of course! You deserve it after all this exercise."
"You know I'm not upset," he added softly. She nodded, sharing a wince with him as she began to clean the skinned knee.
"I know, I just . . . feel bad. I guess it was just unlucky, but I hate seeing you in pain."
"It will pass. There is nothing you do that hurts me."
"Except for making you work out," she sighed.
"Well, yeah, except for that. Sorry, love, but you're stuck with my out of shape self."
"You're perfect the way you are. I wouldn't ask you to be any other way!"
