34. Izzy
34
IZZY
Via passes me a steaming cup of tea. “I can’t promise it’s any good, but I tried.”
Laughing, I hold the mug between my palms and relish its comforting warmth. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
Her phone rings, and a photo of her and Reid pops up. She sighs like she knows she should hit decline, but before she can, I grasp her arm and stop her.
“Cut lover boy some slack, Via-Mia. A whole day without you is probably a lifetime to a golden retriever.”
With a roll of her eyes, she slides her finger over the screen and answers. “Hey, Izzy is still—what?”
All color drains from her face, instantly putting me on guard. My heart squeezes as fear flashes in her eyes.
“We’ll be right there,” she says, pulling the phone from her ear. When she focuses on me, the look on her face—the mixture of sadness, worry, and fear—has my stomach rolling.
Standing on shaky legs, I grab her arm. “What is it? What happened?”
“Derrick’s in the hospital.”
“What?” My heart stops, and tears instantly fall. “What do you mean he’s in the hospital?”
I shouldn’t have left him.
Dammit, I thought I was doing the right thing, giving him some space, but oh God, I shouldn’t have left him. This is my fault.
“He may have had a heart attack. They’re running tests now. Reid and Layla are there with him.”
“Take me. You have to take me,” I beg my sister.
I’m still in my pajamas—ratty sweatpants and a sweatshirt that hangs halfway down my thighs, but I don’t care. I need to get to Derrick.
Via throws on a sweatshirt and grabs her keys and purse. “Let’s go. Come on.”
“Fuck, I’m parked behind you,” I curse when we step outside.
Hands fluttering, I turn in a circle, my brain losing all function.
Her arms provide a steadiness around me. “It’s okay. I’ll grab your keys. We’ll take your rental.”
She lingers for a second, still holding me, maybe to make sure I don’t topple over the second-story porch railing.
So I grasp the rough wooden rail and take a deep breath. “I’m fine,” I lie, needing her to hurry up.
With a nod, she ducks back inside, and when she returns with my purse, she locks up her apartment, then turns but doesn’t head for the stairs. “Izzy? ”
“What?” I practically cry, flapping my arms. “We need to go!”
“You’re not wearing shoes.”
I look down at my socked feet, and the tears come faster. “Fuck.”
Quickly, she unlocks the door, and I storm inside. Thankfully, my shoes are beside the door. I shove my feet in quickly, then turn my ass back around and head straight down the stairs.
The drive to the hospital is a silent one, the only sounds my occasional sniffles.
Via parks the car near the emergency entrance and trails me inside. Once we’re through the sliding doors, she scrolls through the messages Reid has sent.
“Reid says they’ll be out in a minute, and you can go back.”
I nod woodenly, overcome with grief and disbelief. I stood in this very spot not even forty-eight hours ago. I don’t think I’ve ever hated a single place as much as I hate this one. The floors are too white. Too shiny. The chairs are uncomfortable and stick to my legs. And the TV in the corner is obnoxious.
The double doors open, and Reid and Layla appear.
I dart toward them, smoothing my hands down my sweatpants.
They both look worried, which only intensifies my panic.
“I’ll take you back,” Layla says softly, offering me her hand.
“Where’s Lili?” I ask, looking around for the energetic little girl.
“She’s with my neighbor. She babysits for me sometimes.”
Reid heads straight for Via and pulls her into a hug so tight I’m not sure he’ll ever let her go. The sweet, simple exchange causes tears to flood my eyes. This is bad. I should have forced him to come home with me. I could’ve kept an eye on him. I could’ve…
The crack in my heart fissures. None of it matters now.
“Is he okay?” I ask Layla, fear gluing me to the spot. My stomach rolls, churning so violently that I fear the pizza I ate last night will end up on the floor. Why did I think pizza and wine were a good combination?
“We’re waiting for results.” She tugs on my hand, guiding me to those dreadful double doors, and I take comfort in the warmth she imbues me with.
“I don’t want to lose him,” I whisper the confession.
“I know.” When she pauses halfway down the hall, she releases my hand and faces me head on. “I know I haven’t been very supportive of your relationship with my dad. But it’s obvious you love him, and he loves you. At the end of the day, that’s what matters.”
I sniffle back another round of tears threatening to fall. “Thank you.” I pull her into a bone-crushing hug. “I hated the idea of ruining our friendship, but…”
“You don’t need to explain. Go on in.” She nods at the closed glass door covered by blinds. “Take your time. I’ll be in the waiting room.”
“Okay.”
While she walks away, her steps echoing on the linoleum floor, I stand frozen outside the door, terrified of what I might find on the other side.
My heart races and my knees shake, but eventually, I take a deep breath and slide the door open.
Derrick lays in the bed, awake and alert. The sight of him is an instant relief. He looks far better than I anticipated.
“Hey,” he says, almost shyly .
My bottom lip trembles in response.
Opening one of his arms, he says, “Come here, baby.”
The tears win out as I hurry over to his side. I hug him as best I can, inhaling his familiar scent greedily, desperate to replace the smell of antiseptic.
“Are you okay?” I mumble into his neck. “A heart attack?”
He rubs my back, comforting me when it should be the other way around. “That’s what I thought, but I don’t know. They ran some tests, and it seems like they’d be a lot more concerned about me if that were the case.”
“What happened?” I pull away and drop into the plastic chair near the bed.
He tugs at the neck of his hospital gown in annoyance. “I was at the office, and I had chest pains.”
Clutching his hand, I rub gentle circles with my thumb. “I need more details than that.”
With his other hand, he scratches at his heavily stubbled jaw. “I was thinking about you—about our age difference and how I don’t want that to happen to me. How I don’t want to leave you alone like that. And I spiraled, because my love for you is selfish. I know what the pain of losing a partner feels like, and I don’t want that for you.”
I reel back like he’s slapped me, pulling my hand out of his. “Are you breaking up with me?” I scoff through my tears. “You’ve given me so much more than any other man ever has. You think you’re too old for me? Newsflash, Derrick, you should’ve thought about that before you made me fall in love with you.”
“I’m not breaking up with you,” he murmurs. “Unless that’s what you want. I just want you to understand where my head was at. Brooks’s passing… it’s brought up a lot of em otions I thought I’d moved on from. I know my thought process was illogical. It doesn’t matter how old a person is. Tragedy can strike at any age. I should know that better than anyone. But like I said, I wasn’t thinking logically, and that’s how I ended up here.”
I press a hand to his jaw, relishing the sensation of his scruff. “Clearly.”
The door slides open, and we both turn to the doctor who’s stepping into the room.
I squeeze Derrick’s arm. “I’ll be outside.”
“No.” He grabs my hand and holds tight. “Stay. I want you to stay. I need you to stay.”
The desperation in his voice has me softening, has the pain in my heart dulling to an ache. “All right. I won’t go anywhere.”
The doctor clears his throat as he approaches the bedside. “Mr. Crawford, your EKG came back normal, with no signs of a heart attack.”
The relief that floods me almost makes me feel lightheaded.
“Echo and x-ray were good,” he continues. “Your blood work is excellent. There’s nothing of concern.”
“I-I’m not,” Derrick sputters. “It wasn’t a heart attack?”
He shakes his head. “Your heart is fine. Given your rundown of the episode, I think it’s safe to say you had a stress-induced panic attack. To someone unfamiliar with panic or anxiety attacks, it can feel very much like a heart attack.”
Tears of relief spring to my eyes.
He’s fine.
He’s okay.
I can breathe now.
“We want to monitor you for another hour or so.” He looks at his watch. “If everything is still good then, we’ll get you out of here. Be sure to follow up with your primary care provider in about a week.”
“Thanks,” Derrick says, his cheeks pink. “This is… a relief. Embarrassing, too, but I’m glad it’s not serious.” With a heavy exhale, he fiddles with the thick blanket over his legs.
The doctor nods. “No need to be embarrassed. This kind of thing happens more often than you’d think. Try to take it easy. We’ll check on you again in about an hour.”
With a nod, he exits the room, closing the door behind him.
“I had a panic attack,” Derrick mutters with a self-deprecating laugh.
I run my fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. “I’m glad that’s likely all it was.”
“Get in the bed with me,” he says, tugging on my hand. “I want you closer.”
“Derrick—” I protest, but he shakes his head forcefully.
“I need you here. With me.”
My heart stutters. Who am I to deny the man what he wants?
He gingerly scoots over, making room for me beside him.
Once we’re lying side by side, I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. I’ve always loved the sound of it, but it’s even more precious now. I can only hope it beats this steady and strong for a very long time.
With a kiss to my temple, Derrick says, “The next time we’re in the hospital, it’s going to be because you’re having my baby.”
Eyes wide, I straighten and gape at him. “You want to have kids with me?”
He shrugs, pulling me close again. “I’m scared of starting over, but I love being a parent, and it’d be a privilege to do it with you.” He brushes his lips over my forehead. “What do you say?”
Laughing, I tap my fingers against his chest. “I think you better make me your wife first.”
His mouth tips up in a grin, his eyes crinkling. “Done.”