Chapter 3
"It's just a blood draw. If it hurts, bite me," Andrew said.
On the day of my follow-up, I ran into them in the blood draw area.
Summer was scared of needles.
Andrew booked her a private room for her blood test. His assistant carried a thermos, and the driver carried her coat.
He held her hand, gently soothing her and telling her to keep her eyes closed.
Meanwhile, I'd just finished my check-up, and the dizziness from my anemia kept washing over me.
The nurse wheeled over a chair and told me to sit and wait for the doctor.
One of the brakes on the wheelchair hadn't clicked into place. As the nurse was about to fix it, someone called her from behind to grab some gauze.
Andrew turned and saw me, and his expression changed in a heartbeat. "Why do you look so pale?"
In two quick strides, he swept me into his arms, his hand supporting the back of my head. "Tara, look at me. Don't fall asleep."
I actually felt my nose prickle at how worried he sounded.
It's not like he never loved me.
Maybe that's exactly why every choice he makes now hurts so much more.
Andrew gently eased me into the wheelchair, keeping his hand tight on the backrest. "The doctor's coming. Hang in there a bit longer."
Summer came out of the blood draw room and happened to catch a glimpse of the blood collection tray.
Her face instantly drained of color, and she toppled straight backward.
Andrew turned around.
I grabbed his wrist. "Don't let go."
It was the first time I'd ever begged him for anything since the flood.
His hand was reaching for me, but the instant he saw Summer about to hit her head on the floor, he hesitated and his attention snapped away. "Sit tight. I'll catch her and come right back."
"Andrew."
But in the end, he still let go of my hand. "Tara, please, be good for me."
The wheelchair, now without his support, slid back and crashed into the blood cart.
The edge of the metal tray jammed hard against my stomach, and the wound I'd barely started to recover from tore open again.
The pain was so sharp, I couldn't even cry out. My vision went dark.
Before I blacked out, I heard Andrew calling my name.
When I came to, the sound of people rushing around filled my ears.
"The patient lost consciousness. Move, now," someone shouted.
"Where's her family?" another voice called out.
Andrew passed Summer to his assistant and took a couple steps toward me.
But Summer suddenly opened her eyes in his arms, gripping his collar like her life depended on it. "I can't see anything. Am I dying?"
He bent down, trying to calm her, stopping in his tracks. "You're fainting from the sight of blood. Don't be scared."
The nurse barked, "The patient needs immediate treatment. Family, get over here."
Andrew passed his ID to the nurse. "Put it on my tab.
"Handle her first. I'll take Summer for her check-up and be back right away."
"She passed out. Aren't you going to stay with her?" the nurse pressed.
Andrew looked at me as I was wheeled into the treatment room, and for a split second, there was genuine heartbreak in his eyes. "I know she's seriously injured.
"She's surrounded by doctors, but Summer only has me right now."
Then, he hurried after the stretcher, tucking the blanket around me so it wouldn't slip off. "Don't be scared.
"I'll be back soon. Tonight, I'll carry you home myself."
He told me not to be scared, but then left me with strangers, to stay with Summer, the girl who was already awake and over her needle phobia.
Three hours later, Andrew sent me a food delivery receipt for oatmeal: [Summer's fine, had a bit of low blood sugar. Did everything go okay on your end? Drink it while it's hot, okay? Don't be mad at me.]
I sent the order back.
When I updated my info, I left his name out of the emergency contact section.
Instead, I put down my aunt Evelyn Gordon's number.
Then, I shot my lawyer a list of the house, accounts, and documents: [Make sure everything that's mine gets sorted out.]