Page 40 of Whispers of Wisteria
So…he did know when it was—that jerk.
But that was the least of my concerns.
She said something, but I missed it, and Bryce nudged my shoulder.
“She needs your wrist,” he said.
I blindly held my arm out in her direction, not wanting to see. But it didn’t matter. The plastic bracelet felt like a brand against my skin, and my thoughts became sluggish.
No, no, no.
I should have just gone to Damen and taken the good medicine. Then, none of this would be happening.
I was so, so stupid.
Bryce trudged through the waiting room, found an empty corner, and tucked us into it. He wouldn’t look at me as he rewrapped the fuzzy pink blanket around my shoulders, and even though I vaguely wondered where he’d gotten it, I was too upset to care.
“I want to go home,” I whispered, grabbing his wrist before he could pull away. “Please don’t make me be here.”
I loathed that he saw me in such a weakened state, but there was no helping it.
Bryce’s stern expression was set in stone as his hand closed over mine. “Youneedto be seen.”
I knew that! I knew it! I wasn’t stupid.
But still, I didn’t want to. “Please.”
I was so ashamed. It was just a doctor’s visit; it wasn’t like the end of the world.
“No, you’re going to talk to a doctor.” Bryce remained unmoved, yet a sense of nervous energy seemed to radiate from his tense form.
His movements were stiff as he removed my hand from his wrist and slid into the chair beside me. He’d settled back in his seat, legs crossed, and rested his arm behind the back of my chair. Even though he’d carried me in here, this almost touching was somehow worse.
The thought of contact with anyone made my skin crawl.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you passed out twice. There’s also the fact that this seems to be a regular occurrence you’ve ignored for years.” Bryce sounded as if he were reciting a line from a well-rehearsed script. “It’s my responsibility to ensure you take care of yourself.”
“But I don’t want to see a doctor.” How did it even come to this? “I can’t.” I pushed my fists into the tops of my thighs. “You promised.”
We’d agreed that while he had medical power of attorney over me, he’d never pressure me into doing something I didn’t want.
I would never forgive him for this.
“I said I would let you make your own medical decisions, as you should.” Bryce sounded bored, but his arms were tense. “But not that you can neglect to make them entirely. I refuse to let you suffer because you’re too stubborn to go to a gynecologist.”
I narrowed my eyes at his blasé expression. He wasn’t even looking at me; his focus remained on the check-in station, but he obviously felt some measure of guilt—a muscle in his jaw had begun to twitch.
Who cared if he felt bad? It wouldn’t stop me from strangling him.
It wasn’t that I was being stubborn; I couldn’tdo it. Besides, the details of my menstrual cycle werenota discussion I wanted to have with myolder brother.
But if he wanted to start… fine. I had years of practice making Finn squirm.
He thought he was in control, but I would make him regret this.
I didn’t care if he had my picture on his phone; I hated his stupid face. “Why you—”
