Page 52 of Built to Fall
And that wasn’t love.
That was a crossfire dressed up as a homey fireplace. That was letting someone betray the deepest parts of me, slowly breaking off pieces until I was surrounded by shrapnel, not sure which parts wereme.
So no, I don’t trust men who are kind just to be kind. I don’t trust soft hands that wipe my tears away, or patient voices of those who say they’ll stay.
Because I’ve been down that road before.
And I barely made it back.
Alittle while after my CT scan, a doctor enters my hospital room. He looks disappointed. I instantly notice.
The stitching on his white coat reads“Dr. Anderson.”
“Hi, Evangelina,” he says, pulling the clipboard out of its slot at the end of my bed. “Are you feeling any better?”
I nod. “A little jittery, but other than that, I’m okay.”
“Good. Good.” His head bobs up and down, looking optimistic before his eyes downturn again.
Grant must notice it too. “What is it?” he asks.
“Evangelina, I’m going to be honest with you.” Dr. Anderson sighs. “There’s a very good chance that today you werelucky.”
I passed out and had a seizure in the middle of the sidewalk. How could that ever be consideredlucky?
Dr. Anderson takes a look at the monitors before continuing. “All of your scans came back clear. No tumors, no bleeds, no underlying conditions that would explain the seizure.”
“So, what does that mean?”
“It means your body is under extreme stress. Sleep deprivation, dehydration, overexertion. Your labs show signs of all three. Your off-the-chart cortisol levels were a cause for concern all on their own.” He sets the clipboard down gently, like he’s trying not to startle me. “Sometimes, our systems shut down before we do. Your body hit its limit, and unfortunately, you can’t outrun your own biology.”
“So this happened because I was tired?”
“Not tired,” he says, more firmly now. “Exhausted. Dangerously so. Your body gave out because it didn’t have anything left to give.”
I glance over at Grant, whose jaw ticks at that.
Dr. Anderson softens his tone. “We’ll keep you here for the night to monitor everything, but for now, what you need is rest. No running. No exertion. Just rest. If you can’t sleep on your own, we’ll give you a light sedative to get you started.” He gives me a reassuring smile, then exits quietly.
The door closes with a soft click. For a second, I pretend like I don’t feel Grant’s eyes on me.
Eventually, he speaks. “You ran yourself into a seizure.” His voice isn’t angry. If anything, it’s too calm. Somehow that’s worse.
I don’t respond.
“You knew you weren’t okay,” he continues. “I saw it every time I ran with you. You were sleeping instead of running, yet you still pushed.”
“I didn’t think?—”
“No,” he cuts in gently, “you didn’t. Or you did, and you ignored it. Which might be worse.”
My head falls back against the pillow, the guilt settling deeper than the IV in my arm. “I thought running would help.”
“Help what, Lina?” His voice cracks a little on my name. “You collapsed in my fucking arms.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Well, you did,” he says, almost too quietly. “You really did.”
