Novel & Cerita Dull Ache Under Left Shoulder Blade

"It has healed well enough. The pain is mostly gone now." He gave a small grunt, not quite satisfied. "That is not what I asked." I let out a breath. "...It still aches a little when the weather turns or when I push too hard. But I manage." "I thought so," he said, folding his arms behind his back in that familiar stance. "You favor your left side more when you grow tired. I have seen it these past few days." A faint smile tugged at my lips. "You always notice the small things."

“Scarlett.” “What?” “We’re hockey players.” He lifted one shoulder. “We’re always injured.” I laughed quietly. “I guess that’s true.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “My shoulders usually take the worst of it.” I froze. He continued speaking without noticing. “My left shoulder especially.” He rotated it slightly. “It acts up sometimes after long matches.” The moment the words left his mouth, I wished I had never asked. My heart dropped. I didn’t want to know.

The sudden release of tension was physical, almost violent. His chest was heaving, the thin black training vest damp and clinging to the sharp lines of his ribs. His breath came in rapid, ragged plumes of white mist that swirled around his face before vanishing into the freezing gloom. Beneath the fabric, his left shoulder was screaming—a deep, hot, throbbing ache that radiated from the fractured collarbone straight down to his chest. The black athletic tape had held, but the sheer force of the triple Lutz’s landing impact had stretched the adhesive to its absolute limit, pulling the raw skin beneath it taut.

The first thing I felt when my eyes cracked open was pain. Not sharp, not searing—just the heavy, dull ache of a body that had been dragged too far. My ribs screamed the second I tried to stretch, My shoulders felt like they had weights strapped to them, and when I shifted under the blanket, my joints crackled in protest.

I groaned in pain as my shoulder ached. “What is your problem?” I screamed at him. “You asked me to drop you, I did,” he shrugged. “Get moving.” Even Declan wasn't half as annoying as this bastard. I got off the floor, clutching to my shoulder. It was probably dislocated or even fractured. The walk was silent as I tried to massage my shoulders in every possible way I could. The pain was driving me insane and it was slowing me down. “You know you can just ask me for help,” Rolfe said.

Marcus unzipped her jacket, then gently shifted her top to access her shoulder. "Lift your arm to the side. Slowly." His voice was calm, but unusually attentive. "Where do you feel it?" "Lateral deltoid, radiating toward the scapula," Sloane answered flatly. "Blunt trauma, most likely. No deep muscle tear." "I see." Marcus's fingers glided gently along the muscle, checking for swelling. "Some areas still can't be tamed. He's exactly that." "This goes beyond lack of control," Sloane murmured, eyes fixed on the wall. "This is instinct. Deep-seated reflex. And today, that reflex hit me."

I returned his hug with my good arm before I heard his thank me under his breath. We had just separated when Dr. Carol Martinson entered. She looked at Clayton and me and waited silently. Figuring she was wanting to know if she could disclose information in front of him I gave a slight nod. She returned the nod before explaining, “ I came to tell you that you are healing well. You should be good to go but I would highly recommend taking it easy on your left shoulder. At least for a week or so. The rest of your injuries should be fine in a day or so.”

Blair kicked off her boots without caring where they landed and staggered toward the bed. The moment she lay down on her back, she winced. I froze and asked in concern. “Are you okay?” She waved a hand like it was nothing, but her face tightened for a second. “Yeah, it just… happens sometimes.” “What happens?” I asked gently, moving towards her. She shifted slightly, and pressed her palm against her side. “My ribs, and sometimes my shoulder. They're just old injuries.” She let out a short breath. “After the accident, I feel a little pain now and then. It comes and goes.”

He was way too tense. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he reached up and rubbed his shoulder again. He applied slow, circular pressure like he was trying to soothe the tightness in his muscle. A second later, his hand moved to the back of his neck and massaged it in the same motion. He winced. I held my breath. No. This was too soon. But the pattern was familiar. Too familiar. His fingers dug into the space between his shoulder blades, just beneath the collar. I knew exactly what that kind of ache meant.