2. Sorry

                                    

                                          
Leo 

I don't know if I should be angry or happy right now.
Angry that my arm is broken. Or happy that now I know for sure I'll be staying home for at least six to eight weeks.
I should be angry. Because now I can't train my arm. My arm will be weak when I eventually get the cast off and in case I get called back, my arm won't be as strong as I want it to be.
I should be angry. Because beside a broken arm, my brow is busted slightly open and my other palm is scraped from the pavement.
I should be angry because this isn't an injury I need to add to my list of injuries. I've had all types of them.
I should be angry because I broke my arm from something stupid when I should have been more careful.
Izzy was testing Luca's old motorcycle, and I asked to take a ride. The bike is old and my brother wanted to sell some parts of it. Otherwise it would've stayed in our garage. He bought a new one a while back, but Izzy uses it mostly and he finally decided to get rid of the older one.
When Luca and Isabella were riding it in circles in our mansion's driveway, it was doing fine. Only when I rode it did the brakes suddenly freeze and I bumped into the gate door.
No matter how much I convince myself that I should be angry. I can't.
I'm happy.
Relieved.
Relieved that it wasn't Luca or his girlfriend who broke their arms.
Happy that now I'm a hundred percent certain I'll be staying home for about six weeks at least.
My appointment to get my stitches on my shoulder removed is tomorrow. But I had to come in a day earlier. But for my arm.
The doctor told me I had what they called an oblique fracture. My ulna bone fractured and also my middle finger.
How fucking ironic.
The cast has to stay for six weeks for now. After six weeks, they'll take another x-ray and see how it's healing.
"I'll let a colleague come in and remove the stitches on your shoulder. Good thing is you won't need them for your brow, but it needs cleaning."
I thank the doctor who did my cast before she leaves the room. I wonder if the same nurse as last time will come and treat me. This isn't a really big hospital, so chances may be in my favor.
After five minutes, there's a knock on the door and then it whips open.
I have to suppress a grin when I see the same pretty nurse as last time. 
She puts her clipboard on the table next to me and puts on her gloves while speaking to me.
"I'll remove the stitches on your shoulder first. Then I'll take a look at your palm. Lastly, I'll clean your brow." She says in a velvety and professional voice. 
"Sounds good."
She probably doesn't even remember me. But I have a feeling she does. I don't miss the way she didn't greet me and went straight to business.
"I don't have an appointment after this. So take your time." I look over my shoulder but don't see her. She must be standing fully behind my back.
"I have other patients waiting. So..." I can imagine her shrugging.
Shit. I feel like a jackass.
I clear my throat, "I'm sorry. I was a douchebag last time. That meeting was stressing me out." I hate making people sad, mad or anything other than happy. And I hate that I can't see her face right now to gauge her reaction. One thing I'm good at is I can read people really well. I want to see if she's frowning. Or maybe she's biting that full lower lip of hers.