Tessa Keene was a sweetheart through and through- pure-hearted, kind, and incapable of cruelty. She didn't have much, but she had Robby, and that was all she needed. He was her rock, her safe place, the one person she could always count on. But when...
Johnny practically burst through the hospital doors, his heart pounding as he scanned the waiting room. The second he got Miguel's call, he'd floored it to the hospital, barely remembering to park before sprinting inside.
His eyes landed on Tessa first—small and pale against the stark white hospital bed, her arm carefully cradled in a sling. Carmen sat beside her, talking to a doctor, her expression calm but concerned. Johnny exhaled sharply, relief flooding through him at the sight of her awake. But that relief was immediately followed by a wave of guilt—because even from across the room, he could see the dried tears on her cheeks.
He strode over just as the doctor finished speaking, glancing up at him as he approached. "You must be her father."
Johnny barely acknowledged him, his focus locked on Tessa. "Kid," he breathed, his voice softer than he intended. "You okay?"
Tessa blinked up at him, her expression wavering for half a second before she put on a brave face. "Yeah. Just, you know, broke my arm." She forced out a weak chuckle. "No big deal."
Johnny huffed, shaking his head. "Jesus, Tess." He ran a hand through his hair before looking at the doctor. "Is she—?"
"She's okay. It's a clean break," the doctor assured him. "Painful, but it should heal well. We're putting her in a cast soon."
Johnny nodded, some of the tension in his chest easing. "Alright. Good."
Before he could say more, Miguel jogged over, two bags of skittles in hand. "Okay, I got you original and tropical because I wasn't sure which one you wanted—" He stopped short when he saw Johnny standing there, eyes wide like a kid caught red-handed.
Johnny crossed his arms. "Really? You almost let her die and your big fix is candy?"
"Okay, first of all, I did not almost let her die." Miguel defended; handing Tessa the candy. "And second, she literally asked for these."
Tessa sniffled, taking the bag with her good hand. "He's right. I did."
Johnny sighed, rubbing his temples. "I swear to God..."
Carmen finally stood, placing a calming hand on Johnny's arm. "She's okay," she reminded him gently.
Johnny exhaled through his nose, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."
Then he turned back to Tessa, his expression softening. "You scared the hell outta me, kid."
Tessa looked down at the skittles in her lap, fidgeting with the bag. "Yeah," she murmured. "Scared myself too."
Johnny stayed close as they wheeled Tessa into a smaller room to set her cast. Carmen had gone to get the discharge papers, and Miguel had been sent back to the waiting room, leaving just the two of them.
Tessa sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, her broken arm cradled close to her chest as the doctor prepared the materials for her cast.
"You'll be in the cast for six weeks," the doctor explained as he carefully started wrapping the fiberglass around her arm.
At his words, Tessa visibly flinched—not just from the pressure on her arm, but from the sudden realization slamming into her chest.
"Wait—six weeks?" she repeated, her voice cracking in panic.
The doctor nodded sympathetically. "Six weeks to heal properly, maybe a little more depending on how it mends."
Tessa's eyes filled instantly with tears. She twisted to look at Johnny, her face crumpling. "But...what about the tournament?" she whispered.
Johnny moved closer, resting his hand gently on her shoulder. "Forget the tournament, Tess."
She shook her head, the tears spilling over now. "No, no. I was gonna win." Her voice broke on the last word, small and desperate.
Johnny's heart twisted at the sight. He reached up and brushed a tear off her cheek with the rough pad of his thumb. "I know you were, kiddo," he said softly. "I know you would've kicked ass."
Tessa sniffled hard, biting her lip to keep from outright sobbing. The doctor kept working, but every tug and shift of the cast made Tessa wince—and each wince seemed to drag her spirits lower. "I trained so hard," she said brokenly.
"I know you did," Johnny said. "I saw how hard you worked. Every damn day."
Tessa shook her head, frustrated tears spilling faster now. "I just—I wanted to make you proud."
Without thinking, Johnny moved closer, holding her uninjured hand in both of his. "Hey," he said, his voice low and steady. "Look at me."
It took a second—like she physically couldn't—but slowly, with a shuddering breath, Tessa lifted her tearstreaked face to his. Johnny's heart broke all over again at the sight of her. She looked so small, so defeated, her bottom lip trembling and her cheeks flushed from crying.
"You already did," Johnny said, nodding softly. He reached out and brushed a piece of hair from Tessa's forehead, his hand lingering for a second like he didn't want to pull away. "You make me proud every damn day, Tess. Tournament or no tournament. Nothing changes that. You hear me?"
Tessa blinked at him, struggling to breathe past the tightness in her chest. The sincerity in his eyes wrapped around her like a safety net. She gave a tiny nod, and Johnny smiled, squeezing her hand.
"I'm so damn proud of you, kid," he whispered. "Always."
The door swung open a moment later, and Shannon rushed in, her face tight with panic. "Tessa, baby, I came as soon as I heard," she said breathlessly.
She hurried over to the bed, barely noticing Johnny. Her eyes were only for her daughter.
"Oh, honey..." Shannon's voice cracked as she took in the sight of Tessa's arm in a fresh cast and the tears still wet on her cheeks. "Are you in a lot of pain?" she asked, brushing Tessa's hair back with a trembling hand.
Tessa shook her head weakly, a little overwhelmed.
Shannon turned sharply to the doctor standing nearby. "Is the cast okay? Are you sure she doesn't need surgery? What about therapy? Will she be able to move it right when it heals?" Her questions spilled out one after the other, urgent and desperate.
Johnny just stood back, watching the scene unfold with his arms crossed loosely, an eyebrow raised slightly. He didn't step in, didn't argue—because as overbearing as Shannon could be, Johnny knew Tessa needed every ounce of love and care.
Tessa sat quietly through it all, her eyes still glassy but her body leaning just slightly toward Johnny's side of the bed, even with Shannon fussing over her. When the doctor finally stepped out to check on her paperwork, Shannon sat down on the edge of the bed, still fussing with Tessa's hair.
Tessa offered her a tired, shaky smile. "I'm okay, Mom," she said.
Shannon gave a soft laugh, brushing another tear off Tessa's cheek. "You're gonna be more than okay, baby," she said. "We'll get you through this."
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