Page 62 of Beyond the Stroke

“I’m not in the mood to argue,” I say, more gruffly than I intend to. But while she’s been treating this whole thing like it’s normal, I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.

My hand cups her jaw.

“Damn it, Summer. You may be the one who can’t breathe properly, but watching you struggle and feeling so fucking helpless is god damn torture for me.”

With our eyes locked, she swallows thickly. Her hand reaches up and encircles my wrist.

“I get it. It’s scary for me, too. I joke about it because if I don’t, then I’ll cry instead.” She inhales deeply, and my eyes drop to watch her chest rise and fall, looking for any sign of distress. “Edgar needed surgery. He had a tooth abscess and was in a lot of pain. The surgery was expensive, something I hadn’t planned on.”

“You prioritized Edgar’s surgery over your medication?” I know Edgar is important to her, but he’s a dog. Summer is going without her medication because she spent the money on Edgar’s health care instead of her own? I want to commend her on being a caring human being, while also throttling her for being reckless.

“Yeah.”

I inhale sharply. Now I’m the one who has to control their breathing. “Do you know how careless that was?”

“He’s all I have. I couldn’t stand to see him in pain.”

My eyes scan her face. I’ve known Summer less than a week, but she’s already carved out a space inside me that I didn’t know existed. Again, it’s that feeling of not being able to stay away from her. Needing to protect her and make sure she’s okay.

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Summer McKee,” the pharmacist assistant calls. Summer’s inhaler is ready.

She hands Summer the paper bag with her medication in it. Then, she hands me back my insurance card.

“I ran your insurance card and with your plan the medication is thirty-eight dollars.”

“For a month’s refill?” I confirm.

“Yes.”

My eyes find Summer’s and even though she knows what I’m suggesting, she simply takes the bag and walks out.

sixteen

. . .

SUMMER

Rory proposed.

In the pharmacy parking lot.

Okay, it was more like a demand.

Breach of independence!

Walls up. Scowls loaded. Snark engaged.

But my body, noticed the way Rory’s jaw clenched with protectiveness. How his cornflower blue eyes were filled with concern. And then, in the pharmacy when he’d stood there, broad shoulders squared, arms crossed like he was ready to fight the whole damn world for me, I’d felt safe. The same way I’d felt when he wouldn’t let me sleep alone in my van after the break-in. Safe and cared for. Like for the first time in a long time, someone was on my side. And it had felt good. I’d found my shoulders lowering away from my ears as a trickle of calm had washed over me.

I liked the feeling, but it scared me, too.

I can’t depend on a feeling. Those have steered me wrong in the past.

After we picked up my prescription at the pharmacy, and I’d taken a puff from my inhaler, Rory drove us to a local burger place near the beach for dinner since we hadn’t had a chance to eat anything at the club.

I’m browsing the menu, contemplating dinner with a side of matrimony while Rory is using the restroom.

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