Page 59 of Ripple Effect

Despite the fact that he’s surrounded by new people, following an unexpected confrontation with my ex, he seems to be comfortable enough here. There’s a certain softness in his eyes, a tiny half-smile playing on his lips as he watches us all.

As he watchesme.

It makes me feel good inside, happy and content. Because deep down, I know that I’ve found exactly what I’ve been looking for here at Coastal—a sanctuary, a family, my true home away from home.

23

ELIO

I’min the waiting room at Harbor Point again, tapping my foot impatiently on the white-tiled floor. There’s a soft murmur of nurses behind the reception counter, and the overhead lights are incessantly whirring, but the one sound I can’t escape is the chaotic humming of the girl beside me.

Daisy’s sitting there to my right, shuffling through a health magazine, probably one that’s been collecting dust for the last five years. Her face is the picture of calm, but I can’t shake the feeling of guilt that she’s here. Missing her classes for this. Forme.

“I still can’t believe you skipped fisheries to be here,” I say, voice low, trying to keep my frustration from showing.

She looks up, those warm brown eyes piercing into mine. “It’s an easy class,” she insists. “Besides, you need someone to be here with you. And Iwantto be here. So, stop feeling guilty and just accept it.”

I groan inwardly. Daisy’s stubbornness may be a force of nature, but her insistence, her desire to be here with me, warms something else deep inside. It’s obvious that she cares more about me than she probably should.

The nurse calls us down to the exam room a few moments later and proceeds to take my vitals. Once she’s finished, I take a seat on the edge of the table while Daisy claims the lone chair, placing her bag on the floor.

The nurse leaves, and we only have to wait a few short minutes until Dr. Foster walks in, clipboard in hand, a flat look on his face. “Good morning, Mr. Reynolds. How are we doing today?”

“Just fine, thanks,” I mutter, hoping to move the conversation along. I came here for an official diagnosis, for a treatment plan, not to shoot the shit at eight o’clock in the morning.

“Well, after going through all your test results and your file from the ED, we do have some answers for you. It appears that you’re experiencing ventricular tachycardia.” He gives me a tight-lipped smile. “This is a serious condition, but with the right treatment and lifestyle adjustments, you can lead a normal life.”

A weight lifts slightly. The confirmation is helpful, but it’s quickly replaced by a dozen other concerns. “What kind of adjustments?”

“Firstly, you’ll need to avoid long bouts of strenuous physical activity. No heavy lifting or high-intensity workouts. You’ll also need to cut down on stimulants, particularly caffeine, as they can trigger an episode. Limit alcohol, of course.”

“Right, no problem there,” I mutter. “But what do you suggest instead of coffee?”

“Non caffeinated tea?”

“Oh, fucking hell.”

He peers at me over the top of his glasses and clears his throat. “Right, well, stress management is also essential for you,” he continues. “So, consider practicing relaxation techniques like deep breathing, meditation, or yoga. And, of course, regular check-ups and monitoring will be essential to track the condition.”

He details the treatment, mentioning the name of a medication and potential side effects. As I work to digest the information, my head spins. But Daisy, God bless her, has pulled out a pen and notebook beside me, jotting down every word.

“... and it’s essential you monitor your body’s reactions in the first week or so of treatment. Some side effects can be unpredictable, so it’s a good idea not to be alone during this time period.”

Daisy’s gaze flicks to mine, and she gives me a warm, comforting smile. She asks a few more follow-up questions, and I just sit back and stew, overwhelmed with both confusion and gratitude for her.

As we exit the hospital together, the warmth of the morning sun feels especially nice, so calming and serene. Maybe it’s the relief of finally having a solid treatment plan, or maybe it’s just the fact that I have Daisy by my side now, caring about me, caringforme.

“It’s a lot to process,” she says quietly, threading her arm through mine.

“It is.” I pull her closer, my side warming at her touch. “But thank you, Daze. Don’t know how I would’ve gotten through that, through all of this, without you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says. “Like I said, I’m happy to be here.”

* * *

After picking up my prescription,we arrive back at the apartment about an hour later, and a thick sort of tension has grown between us. The memory of yesterday’s kiss looms, as does the reason I pulled away in the first place. So, when we finally step inside, I wait for her to break it.

“You know, considering what Dr. Foster said about the side effects, I really should stick around till at least the end of next weekend. Maybe a bit longer.”

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