Chapter 26
twenty-six
. . .
SUMMER
After taking my vitals and paperwork, the nurse left me in a paper gown to await the doctor.
As I wait, I stare at the muscular system chart on the wall of the doctor’s exam room I’m sitting in. The human body sure has a lot of muscles. The chart makes me think of Rory and his sculpted physique. I scan over the laminated chart. Yep, he’s definitely got that muscle…and that one.
I’d felt them all the night he wrapped his arms around me on the couch.
This morning, I’d been thankful Rory was already gone to practice when I woke up to walk the dogs. I’ve been keeping a bit of distance since the storm last week—the night I buried my hands in his hair.
That moment’s been replaying in my mind more than I’d like to admit. I haven’t touched him like that since, not because I don’t want to, but because I want to too much .
After the walk, I spent the rest of the morning painting. The memory of the thunderstorm, the wildness of the rain and the tension between us, still lingers in my mind and my brushstrokes.
The door opens, pulling me from my thoughts. The nurse pops her head into the exam room. “Mrs. Shields, your husband is here.”
“Rory?” I question as if I need to confirm which husband she’s referring to.
“Your husband,” she confirms.
“Right.”
“Would you like him to join you?” Her smile is pleasant and easygoing. I’m sure this is a regular occurrence, husbands supporting their wives at the doctor.
I glance down at the paper gown I’m wearing.
Absolutely not.
But I keep that answer to myself because I don’t think that’s a normal response.
“Did he say if he needs something?” I ask.
“Just a minute.” She closes the door. While I wait for her return, I swing my legs, my heels bouncing off the metal exam table below me.
A minute later, she’s back.
“He has some questions for the doctor.”
“What kind of questions?” I ask.
The nurse sighs. “Just a moment.”
Her pleasantry appears to be waning with each round of telephone, so I motion her back.
“You know what, never mind. Just send him back.”
A minute later, there’s a knock on the door, and it opens with Rory standing behind the nurse.
“Hey.”
I’ve seen him freshly showered nearly a dozen times now. That seems to be his typical state of being, but it never gets old. His thick tousled hair half damp while I can still see the light imprint of goggle marks around his eyes. If I leaned into him, I’d get a whiff of his eucalyptus body wash and the faint hint of chlorine. Finding myself shifting in his direction, I pull back until my spine is stick straight.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Moral support.” He grins. “And I realized I don’t know much about your asthma, so I thought it would be best to educate myself. You know, since we’re married now.”
“That’s why you’re here?” I ask, annoyed he came all this way for something I could easily explain. “I can tell you anything you need to know.”
“That’s true, but you are the person who didn’t think filling your inhaler was important, so forgive me if I want to hear the answers from a professional.” He combs a hand over the top of his hair, and I watch in amazement how the bicep in his arm flexes so fluidly.
That one is especially well developed.
Refusing to be distracted, my brain refocuses on his words.
“That’s rude. Don’t you think I would be the best person to talk to about my specific condition?”
A knock on the door interrupts our conversation, but it doesn’t stop me from stewing over Rory’s insinuation that he doesn’t trust me to tell him about my condition.
“Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Lasgo,” she extends her hand to me.
“Summer.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Rory stands and shakes Dr. Lasgo’s hand.
“I’m Rory. Summer’s husband.”
I shoot Rory a sharp look, but he just lifts his brows, unbothered. What? I am.
“Nice to meet you both. I see this visit is a physical exam requested by your insurance carrier.”
“Yes.” I nod.
“And I have some questions.” Rory raises his hand like he’s a student trying to get the teacher’s attention.
“Sure.” The doctor motions to Rory while she types on her laptop. “Go ahead.”
“Would a bonfire with smoke be a trigger for Summer’s asthma?” Rory asks.
“Smoke definitely can be a trigger. I think the most important thing is that Summer is consistent with using her inhaler, which I think she noted was out of date and at one time even empty.” She reviews her notes on the computer.
“Yeah, that was not cool.” Rory narrows his gaze at me.
“I’m taking care of it now.” I motion to the exam room.
“Any other questions or concerns?” Dr. Lasgo asks, looking between us.
“What about exertion?” Rory asks, typing something into his phone. “What type of activity, if any, is off limits or needs to be monitored?”
My annoyance grows because I could have easily answered these questions.
“Again, that’s Summer’s call. There’s no activity I would limit as long as she’s got her inhaler on hand and has been using it regularly. Mild, daily activities like walking, hiking, and moderate aerobic exercise should be fine.”
Rory glances down to his phone again.
“What about sex?” he blurts out.
My eyes bulge at Rory’s question, but Dr. Lasgo doesn’t miss a beat. “Sex is not an activity that would need to be limited or refrained from. Again, it’s Summer needing to monitor what she feels is a comfortable situation.”
I shoot Rory a glance. Are you done?
Dr. Lasgo continues. “Though there are some intimate situations that could be triggering. Choking or breath play are not recommended.”
“Got it. No choking or breath play.” Rory looks so serious as he types on his phone.
Is he taking notes? I watch his brows crease with concentration. Yeah, he totally is.
“Certain positions that put pressure on the chest or abdomen that could make breathing more difficult should be refrained from. Also, temperature and humidity changes like a steamy shower could irritate the airways so use caution and monitor Summer’s breathing in those situations.”
While Rory nods and takes notes on his phone, I’m seriously considering climbing under the table.
“Strong scents, like scented candles, certain types of massage oils and lotions, sometimes contain ingredients that trigger asthma symptoms. Even unwashed bedding that contains dust mites could be an issue.”
Rory looks up from his typing. “This is very helpful.”
“If you have any further questions, you can give the nurse line a call.”
“Can I get that number?” Rory asks.
Dr. Lasgo pulls a card out from the plastic holder on the wall and hands it to Rory.
“There you go.”
“Thanks.”
The doctor goes through the exam. Easy stuff like listening to my lungs and checking my ears and throat. Then, she examines my wrist that was injured in Rory’s skateboarding debacle.
“Is this still painful?” she asks, gently manipulating my wrist.
“A little bit tender but not like it was.”
Dr. Lasgo nods. “I’d say you can stop using the brace. Take it easy but see how it feels to get full range of motion.”
“Okay.” I nod, happy to be rid of the brace.
“Now, Summer, I see you checked the box for birth control. That’s something you would like to discuss at this visit?”
At Dr. Lasgo’s words, Rory stands, nearly knocking over the tray beside the exam table. “Should I be here for this?”
Dr. Lasgo smiles kindly. “I think family planning conversations are important for both parties.”
“Family planning?” Rory sits back down.
I’m about to disagree with Dr. Lasgo but it might be weird if I ask for Rory to leave. I mean, can it really get any more awkward than the choking and breath play comment?
“What is your current form of birth control?” Dr. Lasgo asks.
“Um, condoms?” It’s a safe answer. It’s what most people use. Most people who are having sex, which Rory and I are not.
“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
Do not look at Rory. Do not look at Rory.
“No.” I shake my head.
“Have you ever been on oral contraception before?” the doctor continues.
“Yes. In college. About four years ago.”
“Was there a reason you stopped taking the medication? Any side effects you were experiencing?”
Let’s see, I broke up with my boyfriend who was cheating on me and swore off guys so birth control wasn’t really on my mind. Until now.
Until Rory. The words float from the back of my brain where classified information is stored.
“No side effects. Just an insurance thing.”
“Are you interested in a low-dose estrogen pill? Or would you like to discuss other options?”
“The pill is fine.” I’m dying to move this conversation to something else.
“Okay. There shouldn’t be any interference with your medications. Do either of you need STD screening while you’re here?” Dr. Lasgo looks at me before shifting her gaze to Rory.
Kill me now.
For all the willpower I’ve exercised to not look at Rory, my eyes lock onto his.
“No. I’m good.”
Rory nods his head. “Same.”
“I’ll get your prescriptions updated and sent over to the pharmacy.”
“Thank you.”
“It was nice to meet you both.” Dr. Lasgo nods to us both before leaving.
Across the room, Rory is still as a statue.
I hop off the exam table. “I need to get dressed.”
He nods. “Okay.”
“So, you need to leave.”
“Got it.” He nods, heading for the door.
I get dressed, then find Rory, who wasn’t chased away by the awkwardness of the previous conversation, waiting for me in the lobby of the medical center.
When I move toward the exit, he follows.
“You could have asked me those questions. I know all the answers. I know what level of exercise and exertion I can handle. I don’t need you watching out for me. Trust me, I’ve had enough of that in my life.”
“I get it, but I hate feeling helpless. Watching you wheeze and not be able to breathe properly was scary as fuck and if there are things I can do to accommodate you, then I will. But I need to know what they are.”
“Asking questions about exertion…and sex positions ?”
“Hey,” he gives me a look, “I asked about sex. Dr. Lasgo brought up the specific triggers. Now we know choking is off the table.”
I try to calm my racing heart while imagining Rory’s large hands wrapping around my throat. His fingers applying firm, but gentle pressure.
“Choking was never on the table.”
“Maybe a light hand necklace would be okay.”
“ Rory .”
He shrugs. “Sex is a part of life.”
“Not our lives,” I remind him, ignoring the dull ache between my thighs that this conversation has brought on.
“Yeah, I get that. Loud and clear.”
The conversation in the exam room had triggered the memory of Tripp using my asthma as a reason to not touch me. He didn’t want me to get worked up. I was too fragile and needed to stay calm. He’d even tried to convince me that’s why he cheated. Like he was being considerate of me by fucking other women.
“By the way, I’m paying for the birth control with my own money,” I say, glancing both ways before I cross the street to the parking lot.
I’ll take advantage of Rory’s insurance and prescription discounts, but I need to keep as much independence in this relationship as I can.
“I already had them bill it to insurance. The balance gets automatically paid by my account.”
“You’re impossible, you know that?” I huff, turning to look at him while I wait for him to unlock the car.
“I prefer to view myself as a devoted husband.” He opens the door to his Jeep for me, then climbs in and starts the engine.
“I was thinking of having some people over for a bonfire on the beach tonight. Are you okay with that?”
“It’s your house. You don’t have to ask me.”
“It’s our house,” he says so matter-of-fact it surprises me. “And I’ll always check with you.”
I stare at him for a second, lips parting before I can think of a response.
“Fine,” I say eventually, pretending to roll my eyes. “But only if there are s’mores.”
“It wouldn’t be a bonfire without them.”
“Then I guess I’ll allow it,” I say, failing to hide my smile.
Rory hums, satisfied, and puts the Jeep in gear. We drive a few blocks in comfortable silence.
“Oh, by the way, I already picked up some dark chocolate for the s’mores.”
I glance over. “From the grocery store?”
“No, that little place off Highway Seven. The one with the tiny parking lot and the sign that just says ‘Cacao.’”
My eyebrows lift. I’ve only been there a few times because it’s next to a gas station on the far end of Coral Cove and not convenient to get to.
“You went out of your way?”
He shrugs casually, eyes still on the road. “You mentioned once that it was the best dark chocolate, smooth and not too bitter.”
I blink at him. That’s it. No big speech. No bragging. Just…he remembered and took action.
I turn toward the window, pretending to look at the ocean, but really I’m trying to calm the flutter in my chest. Because maybe this is what it feels like when someone really sees you.