Page 83 of Salty, Spiced, and a Little Bit Nice

A soft gasp escaped me. My heart was beating faster, although not from his words. My pump vibrated, likely sending me a gentle warning that I was about to go low and that I should be eating some carbs to avoid that from happening.

Alec stalked across the room to the other end, stopping in front of the sliding patio door. “They let him off early a few years ago for good behavior. So yes, your mother was right.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He glanced at me, looking exhausted. “Because I was ashamed. And I didn’t need your pity, or anyone else’s. That look on your face right now? I never wanted to see that. Even Eric didn’t know. All I told him was that my dad had left us and started a new family.”

I ignored the light-headedness that was knocking louder, making itself known. “But how did my mother know about the embezzlement?”

“Your mother knows a lot of powerful people.”

“Have you seen your dad since he was released?”

“No.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes watching the darkness outside. “He’s probably living with his second family, or maybe even an entirely new family. We did just fine without him, and we don’t need him coming back into our lives.”

I was sweating, and my pump vibrated again, giving me another warning that I was about to crash. “And why did you move away?”

He was still staring out into the darkness. After what felt like forever, he sighed and finally said, “Because of you.”

My legs wobbled, like they were about to crumble and send me toppling to the ground. The dizziness was now unbearable, and I shook my head, trying to center myself back into the present. But nothing helped.

I knew what was happening. My blood glucose level was dropping rapidly.

Taking a few tentative steps toward the armchair, I slumped down and closed my eyes. Alec was still talking, but I wasn’t listening. My hypo kit was in my bag by the door, but if I tried to get up and walk over to get it, I’d probably collapse after a few steps.

The alarm on my pump beeped loudly this time, followed by my CGM app, both sending me urgent pleas to look after myself.

“Ellie?” Alec must have heard the beeping, because he turned to look at me, alertness snapping into his face. He marched over and knelt in front of me. “Are you having a hypo?”

My head was spinning, so I could only nod and point at my bag. “I need sugar.”

Alec went to grab it, zipping it open as he walked back to me. Shivering, I took the bag from him, but my hands were shaking. Taking over, he pulled out a juice box and a bottle of glucose tablets. I pointed at the bottle, so he opened it and handed me several of the raspberry chewable tablets. He searched my bag, found my blood glucose meter, and pricked my finger.

“You don’t need to do that,” I said, closing my eyes. “I know I’m low.”

“Just to be sure, right?” Alec gently tapped the test strip on the tiny drop of blood. “Better safe than sorry.”

“How did you know?” I was still munching on the tablets as we waited for the result to appear. “How to use a blood glucose meter?”

“I’ve seen you do it when we were younger. And I might have looked up a video or two.”

My eyes flew open, and Ellie the Human Goldfish returned, sashaying back into the room with wide eyes and heart thumping louder than the ocean waves crashing outside. I couldn’t utter a single word, so I just stared at him in astonishment.

Although, really, after everything he’d done for me, should I really be surprised?

His attention went to the flashing red number and downward arrow on the meter. His brows drew together with concern. “Forty-five. That’s very low, isn’t it? Is there anything else we should do? Do you have a glucagon kit?”

Of course he knew about glucagon kits. “You reallyhavebeen reading up, huh?” I let out a weak chuckle. “No, not yet. Now we wait.” I shuddered, and Alec hopped up, grabbed the comforter from the bed, and wrapped it around me.

“Fifteen minutes? Until your levels are back up?” At my raised eyebrows, he shrugged. “Eric used to set fifteen-minute timers for you all the time, remember? Then another fifteen if you were still low.”

This was grossly unfair. My heart didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving this. How was I supposed to stay mad at him if he kept this up?

“How often do you have hypos? I haven’t seen you have one since you moved here.”

My pump and CGM app beeped again, reminding me that Iwas still low. Alec was watching me, obviously expecting some kind of verbal answer.

“I have mild ones maybe once, twice a week. But I’m always quick to treat it. This is probably from the swimming and all the games,” I finally said. “I should reduce my insulin intake whenever I do a lot of physical activities. But I was too hyped up with everything that happened today, and I miscalculated. It’s a silly mistake. I should’ve known better.”

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