“What are you doing here?”
Dallas Sheppard is the last person I expected to see standing in the doorway of my hospital room. But when I see him holding my helmet and keys, I sense that this isn’t a friendly visit, but a sendoff.
“I brought you your bike.”
“I can see that. Trying to run me out of town now?”
“No, but I figured you’d want to leave, so I’m just making it easier for you.”
I stand from the bed, gaining my footing before walking toward him. My body feels weak, no doubt about that, but the last thing I want to do is continue to lie in this bed when there’s a bunch of shit I need to take care of —starting with getting back to Florida as soon as possible.
And Dallas’s gesture is sure as hell going to help me get there faster.
“What’s the catch?”
He shakes his head as he hands me my helmet and keys. “No catch. But if you’re leaving, you’d better be sure that’s what you really fucking want.” He takes a step closer to me. “I’m sorry that you ended up in thehospital last night. The last thing I wanted was for your health issues to be revealed like that.”
“Yeah, right. You probably fucking enjoyed it.”
He tilts his head. “You think I enjoyed seeing my sister break apart when you were lying there unconscious? You think I enjoyed watching her cry after you told her to leave? You think that pushing her away is what’s best for both of you?”
“She doesn’t need me bringing down her life, Dallas.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Gage. Hazel would never see it that way. You’re the one convincing yourself that you’re some kind of burden, but that girl? She would never walk away from someone she loves because of a little heart condition.”
“It’s not that simple,” I grate out. “But you know what? Doesn’t matter.” I move to walk past him toward the door. “Thanks for bringing me my bike.”
He reaches behind his back and pulls a pink envelope from his back pocket. “Before you leave, I was told to give you this.”
“You were the one delivering these?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I do know who was, and I’m just helping them out.”
“Ha. Well thanks.”
“Gage?” I pause. “Hazel will wait for you. But if you don’t plan on coming back, make sure she knows so she can move on with her life. That’s all I ask.”
With a tight nod, I walk out.
The second I hit the highway, my engine roaring beneath me, I expect to feel relief.
This is what I wanted.But all I feel is guilt and pain—the type of pain that no doctor can treat.
***
“Well, your episode wasn’t the worst one you’ve had yet, which is good.” Dr. Miranda continues to read the chart that the doctors in Carrington Cove sent over after my stay there. When her eyes lift, I can see the concern in them laced with an ounce of hope. “It wasn’t as bad as the one you had when your aunt died.”
Just the mention of why I wasn’t there after my aunt left this earth piles on the guilt I haven’t been able to shake for the past two days.
Coming back to Orlando and stepping into my old apartment was surreal because I’ve called this place home for the past ten years, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it anymore.
“So what does that mean?” I ask, afraid to know the answer but needing it anyway.
“Well, a few things. That means the medication you’re on is helping manage your symptoms, but we could try a different medication to see if we could eliminate the episodes altogether. I’d love to do another scan of your heart while you’re here to check to see if the muscle thickness has changed at all.”
“And what if it has?”
“Then we discuss your options.” Dr. Miranda rests her hands in her lap. “I told you, Gage. This is a process. We take it one step at a time, one symptom at a time, until we get you stable and living a relatively normal life.”