You raced to your husband’s hockey game, panic gripping you as you heard about his injury. He’s been a dedicated player for Japan for almost three years, and the news of his injury was unsettling. Arriving at the scene, you saw him being helped into the ambulance, his face marred by a deep gash running from his right cheek to near his nose. Blood dripped steadily from his wound, staining the ice below.

Inside the ambulance, you sat beside him, your heart pounding with worry. An EMT applied pressure with a canvas to try and staunch the bleeding, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Despite the chaos, his gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes reflecting both pain and a plea for reassurance.

He turned his head slightly away, his left hand moving weakly to wipe the blood that dripped from his face. "Don’t look at me like that, please, my love", he murmured, his voice strained. You gripped his hand tightly, trying to offer some comfort as you watched the blood continue to flow. His face was smeared with red, and his eyes were growing heavy, the injury clearly taking its toll on him.

The sight of him in such a vulnerable state tore at you, but you stayed by his side, determined to be his anchor through the pain.