The medical wing was quiet compared to the storm of the arena, the only sound the low hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional shuffle of trainers moving in and out. had endured the poking and prodding with her usual mix of impatience and charm, though the moment the adrenaline finally bled out of her system, everything hurt more sharply. Her ankle throbbed in rhythm with her pulse, her ribs ached from the suplexes, her jaw still smarted from the stiff shots she’d taken.
The doctor had taped her up with an ice-packed ankle brace, handed her a prescription for the swelling, and all but ordered her to stay off the leg for the next twenty-four hours. The crutches were a cruel accessory, functional, yes, but hardly glamorous. Madison had tested them in the hallway before venturing out, and her gait was awkward, unpolished, each shuffle a reminder that she was better suited to stilettos than medical hardware.
When she pushed the door open into the waiting area, she had to pause, adjusting her grip on the crutches and letting her eyes sweep the room. And there, across the way, was Valerie. Still waiting for her.
A tired but genuine grin tugged at her lips, the kind that was equal parts exhaustion and bravado. Madison started her slow shuffle across the tiled floor, her weight dipping with each uneven swing of the crutches, hips swaying despite herself. She looked every bit the battered heroine, hair damp from her quick rinse, fresh clothes clinging to still-sore muscles.
“Hey, babe,” she called out, her voice warm but husky from the strain. “Good news, I’m going to make it.” The words were light, joking, but her smile softened as her green eyes found Valerie’s. Even limping, even bruised, Madison’s instinct was to perform, but here, in this quiet moment, the bravado dulled at the edges, letting the affection shine through.



