Page 61 of Beyond the Stroke

Her eyes fight to cover it up, but I see it there…fear. While she wants to project this calm exterior, she isn’t fooling me. She’s scared.

“The medication is cheaper with insurance?” I ask.

“Yeah, but I don’t have it. And while I’ve researched it, my monthly premiums are too high for me to maintain.”

I can’t believe this is her reality. I’d pay ten times the cost if it meant she could breathe without fear. And then the thought hits me, so obvious I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.

“Marry me.”

“What?” She scoffs. Then when she realizes I’m dead serious, “No.”

“You proposed earlier.”

“I didn’t propose. I said we were already married.”

“Which is a repercussion I’m going to have to deal with when my parents find out it’s not true.”

“But—”

“It’s simple. We get married. You get access to my insurance, which is top notch, and I get my parents off my back. It’s a win-win.”

“Did you suck in too much pool water today? I’m not marrying you.” She crosses her arms. “I’m not marrying anyone.Ever.” Her eyes flash like a hurt animal that’s been cornered.

I study her carefully. “What do you have against marriage?”

“Everything.” She closes her eyes and leans back into the seat. “Who voluntarily signs up for a lifetime of arguing, distrust, and unhappiness?”

“That seems like a harsh assessment of marriage.”

“Well, it’s the one that I have.”

“Are your parents divorced?” I ask.

“No, that would have been better. There’s nothing worse than a couple staying together that should be apart.” She sighs. “And the expectations? The commitment, the ‘til death do us part? How can a relationship thrive under that kind of pressure?”

I give her questions a thought. It was only a week ago I vowed to keep my life void of distractions. To focus solely on swimming so I wouldn’t have any regrets with how my training and ultimately the outcome of my last run for gold turns out.

“So, ours won’t be like that.”

“I can’t talk about this now.”

She’s wheezing again, and I realize my proposal along with Summer’s distaste for marriage might trigger an attack. Right now, I need to focus on getting her medication.

Leaving our discussion behind, I exit the car and move to the other side to open Summer’s door. She’s already got it open and while she attempts a sidestep, I grasp her hand to redirect her into the pharmacy.

As we approach, the woman behind the counter eyes Summer. “Miss, like I said—we don’t do payment plans.”

My chest clenches at her rebuff. She’s just doing her job, but it’s heartbreaking that Summer hasn’t been able to refill her prescription that is a lifeline in an emergency, because she doesn’t have the means to do so.

“Good. We’re not asking for one.” I hand the woman my credit card. “We’ll take one month’s supply, please.”

The woman takes my credit card and looks up Summer’s prescription.

“Give me a few minutes.”

I nod and move away from the counter.

“Rory—” Summer starts after me, but I turn and guide her to the corner of the pharmacy.

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