You frowned as your eyes fluttered open. Turning your head, your eyes landed on the small clock that sat atop the bedside table.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you realized that your husband, Michael, wasn't in bed with you. A sigh escaped your lips as you sat up, rubbing your eyes. You knew where he would be.
"At the damn studio," you grumbled to yourself, getting out of bed. You grabbed your night robe, slipping it on before putting on your warm slippers. You walked out of the bedroom and looked around - the entire place was dark, and you could hear faint music coming from the studio.
You groaned and walked, following the direction of the sounds. Eventually, you arrived at the doorway to the studio - and you set your hands on your hips. Since the door was open, you could see your husband clearly as he danced.
You opened your mouth to say something, but Michael performed a spin - and landed on the floor, groaning in pain. He had sprained his ankle.
"Michael!" you exclaimed, running up to him.
"Shit!" he exclaimed before his eyes widened when he saw you. "(Y/N)," he clutched his injured leg. "I thought you were still asleep," he sighed.
"Well, I woke up and realized that you were gone," you shook your head. "Come on," you helped him to his feet, or in this case - foot. You put your arms around him, supporting his weight. "I'll take you to the bedroom, and I'll call a doctor,"
You sat at Michael's bedside, studying him as you both waited for the doctor to arrive. Since it was pretty early in the morning, your doctor was caught off guard when you initially called her.
"What on earth were you thinking?" you frowned at your husband. "It's too early in the morning for rehearsals,"
"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I couldn't sleep, so I went into the studio to practise," he shook his head. "Now I regret that decision,"
You laughed a little before a knock could be heard at the bedroom door. You stood up and walked over to open it. Standing there, was Dr. Leah.
"Hi," she smiled, looking rather fresh. "Security let me in," she held up her identification card. You nodded and stood aside to let her in. Once she had entered, you shut the door quietly. "So, what is the problem?" she asked politely, making you giggle slightly.
"My husband, here, decided to do a little bit of dancing," you raised an eyebrow whilst folding your arms. "And he hurt his ankle, I think he's sprained it,"
"Ouch," Dr. Leah walked up to his left leg, examining it closely. "Yep, you have a sprained ankle," she shook her head. "It doesn't look too bad. I'll prescribe some medication to help ease the pain," she bit her lip. "But he'll need at least three days of complete bed rest," she laughed a little.
"Aw man," Michael groaned.
"That's what you get for doing the wrong thing at the wrong time," you couldn't stop yourself from giggling.
"Don't two negatives make a positive?" Michael raised an eyebrow.
"Not in this case they don't,"
Later on during that day, Michael had managed to fall off to sleep, and at present moment - you were in the kitchen with Dr. Leah, especially since the two of you were good friends. The two of you had a glass of wine each, laughing like little girls.
"I just hope he rests well," you sighed, looking at the bit of wine in your glass. "Michael's really dedicated to his work,"
"I can tell," Leah nodded. "And you're an amazing wife for putting up with him," she laughed. "I can barely tolerate my own husband,"
"Oh, that reminds me," you widened your eyes slightly. "How is George?" you asked, referring to her husband.
"Ah, he's fine," she rolled her eyes. "But he's having an affair with his receptionist. He makes the law profession look like a complete joke,"
You laughed before Frank, Michael's manager, walked into the room.
"Hi!" he greeted you with a smile. You stood up and hugged him before he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Where's Michael?"
"He's upstairs," you nodded. "Resting,"
As I snuck into the studio, I could hear my wife, and Dr. Leah, laughing downstairs. I had managed to fool (Y/N) into thinking that I was asleep, and now, I was hoping to rehearse a little without her finding out.
I knew my ankle was sprained, but I couldn't help myself. I managed to make my way to the studio, shutting the door behind me. Making my way over to the stereo, I groaned a little before turning it on. I adjusted the volume before moving to the center of the room.
I began to dance a little, but felt a sharp pain shooting through my left leg. The pain was a nightmare, but I was prepared to bear it.
After a moment, I fell to the floor - falling on my, already injured, leg. I yelled loudly, cursing under my breath. Several moments passed before the studio door opened, revealing Frank. However, he wasn't alone. Dr. Leah, and my wife - were standing at the doorway as well.
"Michael!" (Y/N) came marching up to me. "You're supposed to be resting!"
"I know," I sighed. "I just...well...I thought I could dance," I shook my head. "But with my sprained ankle, dancing is nearly impossible for me,"
"Yeah, no shit," Frank snickered, making me narrow my eyes at him.
"Come on," (Y/N) sighed, helping me up to my feet, or foot, again. She had a disappointed look on her face, and at that moment, I felt horrible. I knew that my wife was disappointed with me, and that I had to apologize.
You screwed up, Mike.
Half an hour had passed since (Y/N) had helped me into bed, and Dr. Leah, along with Frank, had left for the day. My wife sat at my bedside, rubbing the back of my hand as she studied me.
"Baby," I whispered. "I'm so sorry,"
She broke into a chuckle, shaking her head. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen on the face of the earth. Everything she did was amazing. The way she walked, the way she laughed, and the way she behaved with me. She was everything.
"Don't be," she smiled. "Just don't go attempting to dance again anytime soon," she narrowed her eyes. "Your ankle needs to heal,"
"I know," I nodded before she moved closer to me. She slowly kissed me, making me melt. As she ran her hands up and down my chest seductively, I pushed her away a little.
She stared into my eyes, as if reading my thoughts. A small smirk appeared on her face.
"I'll do all the work," she whispered.
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