Chapter 116

Jennie always said she was fine.

Even when she wasn’t.

The practice room was loud—music blasting, heels hitting the floor in perfect sync, mirrors reflecting five different angles of perfection and pressure. It was the final stretch before the tour, and everyone was pushing just a little harder than usual.

Jennie pushed the hardest.

“Again from the top!” the choreographer called.

Lisa wiped the sweat from her forehead, chest rising and falling quickly as she nodded. Her eyes flickered, almost automatically, toward Jennie. It was a habit at this point—checking if she was okay, if she was hydrated, if she was smiling.

Jennie gave her a quick thumbs-up, flashing that confident grin.

Lisa wasn’t convinced.

But the music started again before she could say anything.

They moved in sync—sharp, clean, powerful. Jennie spun, stepped, turned—

—and then it happened.

A small misstep.

A twist.

A sound that shouldn’t have been there.

“Ah—!”

Jennie’s voice cut through the music, sharp and pained as she crumpled to the floor.

Everything stopped.

“Jennie!”

Lisa didn’t even remember moving. One second she was across the room, and the next she was on her knees beside her wife, hands hovering, shaking, not sure where to touch without making it worse.

“Hey—hey—what happened? What happened?” Lisa’s voice was already breaking, panic spilling through every word.

Jennie clenched her jaw, trying to sit up, but her face betrayed her. “My ankle—I think I twisted it—”

“You think?” Lisa’s voice jumped an octave. “You think?!”

The staff rushed in, the music cut completely, and the room shifted from performance mode to emergency in seconds.

“Don’t move,” one of the trainers said gently, kneeling down.

Lisa barely registered them.

Her entire world had narrowed down to Jennie.

“Does it hurt? Of course it hurts—stupid question—how bad is it? Can you move it? Don’t move it—wait, no, don’t try—why did you move—Jennie!”

“I’m okay—” Jennie tried, reaching for her.

Lisa grabbed her hand instantly, holding it like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “No, you’re not okay. You literally fell, Jen. You don’t just fall.”

Jennie let out a small breath, somewhere between a laugh and a wince. “It’s not that dramatic—”

“Not that—” Lisa stared at her in disbelief. “You screamed.”

“That was just—surprise—”

“You don’t scream from surprise!”

The trainer gently touched Jennie’s ankle, and she hissed under her breath.

Lisa froze.

Her grip tightened. “See?! See?! She hissed! That’s bad! Hissing is bad!”

“Lisa,” Jennie said softly, squeezing her hand despite the pain, “breathe.”

“I am breathing!” Lisa insisted, even though she very clearly wasn’t.

Her chest was tight. Her thoughts were racing.

What if it’s serious?
What if she can’t perform?
What if she made it worse by pushing too hard?
What if—

“Lisa.”

Jennie’s voice cut through the spiral.

Soft. Grounding.

Lisa blinked, eyes snapping back to her.

“I’m right here,” Jennie said, her thumb brushing over Lisa’s knuckles. “Okay?”

Lisa swallowed hard, but her eyes were already glassy. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the point!” Lisa’s voice cracked now, raw and unfiltered. “You’re hurt, Jen. You don’t get hurt. You’re—you’re supposed to be fine.”

Jennie’s expression softened immediately.

“Oh,” she murmured, understanding settling in.

Lisa wasn’t just panicking.

She was scared.

“I’m sorry,” Jennie said gently.

“Why are you apologizing?!” Lisa shot back, half frustrated, half on the verge of tears. “You didn’t do anything wrong—this is—this is—ugh!”

She ran a hand through her hair, clearly spiraling again. “You’ve been overworking yourself. I told you to rest. I told you to take breaks. But nooo, Kim Jennie has to be perfect all the time—”

“Hey,” Jennie interrupted softly.

Lisa stopped.

“I’m not trying to be perfect,” Jennie said, her voice quieter now. “I just… didn’t want to let anyone down.”

Lisa’s face fell instantly.

“You could never let me down,” she said, almost offended. “Ever.”

The trainer spoke up gently, “It looks like a sprain. We’ll need to ice it and get it checked, but it’s not severe.”

Lisa turned to them so fast it was almost dizzying. “Not severe means what? Like—like recovery time? Can she walk? Can she dance? Should she stop? She should stop, right? She’s stopping.”

Jennie couldn’t help it—she laughed softly.

Lisa whipped back around. “This is not funny!”

“It kind of is,” Jennie admitted, wincing slightly. “You’re in full panic mode.”

“Of course I am!” Lisa exclaimed. “My wife just got injured!”

There it was.

The word hung in the air, heavy with emotion.

Jennie’s heart melted a little despite the pain.

Lisa leaned closer, her voice dropping, trembling now. “You scared me.”

And just like that, all the chaos quieted.

Jennie lifted their joined hands, pressing a soft kiss to Lisa’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Lisa shook her head immediately. “No. Just… don’t do that again.”

“I’ll try not to fall dramatically next time.”

“Jennie.”

“Okay, okay—no falling at all.”

Lisa huffed, but she carefully brushed a strand of hair away from Jennie’s face, her touch gentle now, protective.

“Does it hurt a lot?” she asked, softer this time.

“A bit,” Jennie admitted.

Lisa’s jaw tightened again, but she stayed calmer now. “We’re getting you ice. And rest. And you’re not practicing until you’re fully okay.”

Jennie raised an eyebrow. “You’re not my manager.”

“I’m your wife,” Lisa shot back instantly. “That outranks everyone.”

Jennie smiled at that.

“Bossy.”

“Only for you.”

The staff helped Jennie sit up properly, wrapping her ankle carefully. Lisa didn’t let go of her hand once—not for a second.

Even when they helped Jennie stand.

Even when they guided her to a chair.

Even when the room slowly returned to movement and quiet chatter.

Lisa stayed right there, hovering, watching, guarding.

Jennie glanced up at her, amused. “You’re not going back to practice, are you?”

Lisa crossed her arms stubbornly. “Nope.”

“Lisa—”

“I’m on injury duty now.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“It is now.”

Jennie smiled, shaking her head slightly. “You’re unbelievable.”

Lisa leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Jennie’s forehead, lingering there just a second longer than necessary.

“You’re more important than any practice,” she murmured.

Jennie’s expression softened completely.

“Good thing I married you,” she whispered back.

Lisa pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, a small, relieved smile finally breaking through her panic.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Good thing you did.”