Chapter 17
What the fuck was I thinking letting Connor drive me home? That’s definitely making the list of top five worst decisions I’ve ever made in my life. Nothing will ever top marrying my ex, but this one is definitely up there.
And what the hell just happened? Why did he buckle my seat belt? More importantly, why was I more focused on his lips than the gesture? I must’ve hit my head when I fell or something.
Connor climbs into his massive truck but doesn’t even spare me a glance when he asks where we’re headed.
“I can type the address into your phone if you want.”
He reaches into the front pocket of his pants.
The same pocket he just whipped out an electrolyte packet from at the bar.
So much has happened over the past fifteen minutes, I’m almost convinced I’m in a fever dream.
He struggles to get his phone out and fumbles it briefly as he types in his passcode before handing it over.
Connor still doesn’t look at me. Attempting to break the weird air floating between us, I try to lighten the mood.
“Were all the electrolyte packets getting in the way? Never seen someone struggle so much to pull their phone out of their pocket.”
My words have the exact effect I was hoping for. He turns his head to look at me, wearing the guiltiest look on his face. When he sees me smiling, he sags back into his seat with relief.
“About that…”
I wait for him to continue but no other words come.
“Were you going to finish that sentence or…” I tease.
He tilts his head back, focusing on the roof of his truck. Once he gains the courage, he finally turns in his seat to give me his full attention.
“Sorry if I overstepped in there. But after I ran into you that day at the hospital and you wouldn’t let me pay for the tests—”
“Connor,” I cut him off, because of course I didn’t let him pay for the tests.
I’d say he’s basically a stranger, but we both know that’s not true.
He knows parts of me I’ve never shared with anyone else, so calling him that would be a bold-faced lie.
But regardless, I refuse to owe a man anything ever again.
“Let me finish, please.” The vulnerability in his voice has me snapping my mouth shut before I can make a case for myself about the money.
“I know why you wouldn’t let me pay. I get it, I really do.
But I still felt helpless leaving that parking lot.
When I got home, I researched POTS because at least then I’d know what you were going through.
It’s dumb, but I thought maybe if someone else knew what you were going through, you’d feel less alone. I don’t know…”
Damn this man and his thoughtfulness. The gesture has me fighting back tears yet again, but I refuse to break down in front of him right now.
“That was really kind of you to do. And I appreciate the electrolytes, no matter how weird it was.”
Connor chuckles and grabs the back of his neck. He opens his mouth but shuts it abruptly. It seems like he has more to say, so I urge him to continue.
“Say what you need to. This entire situation has pushed me out of my comfort zone. I don’t like letting people help me, especially an ex-boyfriend. But here we are.”
He inhales through his nose and blows out a breath. “Why don’t we talk on the way to your place?”
“Okay.” I hand over the phone with Tamara’s address plugged in.
It says it’s a twelve-minute drive with downtown traffic this evening.
I know that’s not long, but right now it feels like an eternity.
Because every second in this small space is a reminder.
I’m reminded of the way Connor used to reach over and grab my hand without thinking.
Or how our late night drives never felt long enough.
Or how easy it used to be to just sit in silence together as we drove to nowhere.
There’s too much history here. I fold my arms tight across my chest, like that might keep my feelings from escaping, as I wait for him to continue our conversation. Barely any time has passed, but the silence that stretches between us is agony.
I try like hell to focus on the windshield in front of me.
My knee starts bouncing, and before I can grab it to try and keep it still, Connor’s hand is there.
His palm rests above my knee for a few beats, grounding me.
After all this time, he can still notice my anxiety and instinctively try to steady me in a calm, gentle way.
The light in front of us turns yellow, and Connor eases on the brake, bringing his truck to a stop. He lifts his hand off my thigh, giving me a few seconds to collect my thoughts.
Finally he speaks, breaking the tension I’m not even sure he’s feeling.
“All right, I’m just going to say something and I’m sure it’s going to piss you off, but I need to say it.”
My eyes move from the windshield to him, but his focus is straight ahead.
“I’m worried about you, Avery. And I know I have no right to be.
But after everything I read online, the low blood volume, the blood pooling in your legs, the heart palpitations…
I’m not even sure if it’s a heart condition or not.
There was so much to read, and some sites had conflicting information.
But some said you need a cardiologist. Are you sure you can wait for these tests? ”
His thumbs tap on his steering wheel as he babbles on about everything he learned online.
“Okay, slow down, Doctor Google. Not everything you read online is true.”
His focus turns to me and the glare he attempts to give me has me laughing.
“I’m sorry! You’re just sitting over there spewing all these things you read on the internet like you got your degree online.”
The light turns green and Connor looks ahead again.
“Well, you won’t talk to me about it. Sadie and Niko won’t talk to me about it.
So I researched on my own.” He shrugs, and I feel guilty for making fun of him.
He’s done more to learn about my condition than Bryan ever did.
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
I’m not sure what else to say. I’m overwhelmed that he cares this much, that he took the time to research a condition I might have.
“Since Google apparently lied to me, can you tell me about POTS?”
I take in his side profile, not at all surprised at how earnest he’s being. This is who he always was. Both intense and sincere in almost everything he does.
“Sure.”
I spend the next ten minutes of our drive describing everything that’s been going on with me.
I’m surprised at how easily the words fall out.
I discuss everything from what type of chronic illness it is, to the other domino effects that could happen if I am diagnosed with POTS.
This condition has made me question everything about me.
I went from a professional athlete to someone who can barely stand for long periods of time.
“The biggest things for me are feeling like my heart is racing even when I’m doing nothing.
A lot of people think it only happens when standing up for extended amounts of time, but there are times when I’ll be sitting or lying down and it feels like I just ran a marathon.
Things that used to be easy for me like going up the stairs, doing laundry, or even just taking a shower, feel almost impossible. ”
The map on Connor’s dash indicates we’ve arrived at our destination.
He finds a parking spot just outside Tamara’s place and turns the engine off.
Conflicting feelings are at war within me.
Part of me is grateful that we’re here, so I can escape and not have to explain how I don’t even recognize who I am anymore.
The other part of me is disappointed we don’t have another ten minutes to keep talking.
To my surprise, Connor turns in his seat and rests his elbow on the steering wheel, leaning his head onto his hand.
“So, cardiologists do handle a lot of POTS patients but it’s actually a nervous system disorder?”
I nod and smile at him. It’s refreshing speaking to a man and having him actually hear what I’m saying.
“I think I understand it better now. I still have a lot of questions, but I’ll spare you for now.” We both laugh, and I go to grab the handle of my door, thinking that is the end of the conversation.
“Avery, wait.” Connor’s hand lands on my forearm. He’s not grabbing me hard but the warmth of his fingers against my skin makes me feel warm all over. I look down at where he’s holding me, wondering why this one simple touch has such a large effect on me.
Connor must think I’m annoyed by the contact because he yanks his hand away. I want to beg him to put it back but the words are trapped in my throat.
“Sorry, just…can you tell me about these tests? It still sounds like you really need them.”
His words are laced in worry, and for a split second I almost feel guilty for making him feel this way. I focus on his question and push away the feelings that threaten to consume me.
“Basically, they’d have to do a bunch of different tests.
They’d have to check my liver levels, blood levels, my thyroid, and do a metabolic profile.
I’d have to wear a Holter monitor to check for electrical problems in my heart, and they’ll also need to do an echocardiogram to make sure nothing is physically wrong with my heart.
And after all that, they’d eventually do a tilt table test to confirm the diagnosis if it got to that point. ”
Connor’s eyebrows raise and he points his finger at me. “Oh! I read about that. It tests how your heart and nervous system respond to changes in position, right?”
My traitorous heart swells at Connor’s knowledge of everything that has to do with POTS.
I was married to a man who didn’t believe anything I was saying when it came to this.
And yet, here’s my high school sweetheart, learning everything he can about this condition, even though I’m barely in his life anymore.
“That’s right.” My words are strained because the emotion I was trying to keep down is creeping up and I can’t do anything to stop it.
Connor must notice because he reaches out and takes my hand in his. “Hey. It’s all gonna be okay. Now that you’re working you should be able to afford the tests soon, right?”
There’s hope in his voice, and it tugs at something inside of me that I buried long ago.
“Actually, I was hired on a trial basis as a freelance commentator. So, unfortunately, I don’t get benefits this season. My pay is okay, but I still don’t have enough for everything I already owe and still need. Hopefully soon, though.” I try to sound hopeful but it’s clear he’s not buying it.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Connor scrubs a hand down his face, and I move my gaze to my lap where I’ve started fiddling with my fingers. All this talk and the reminder that I can’t get the answers I’m so desperate for are making me feel anxious.
I lift my shoulders and give him my best attempt at a smile. “It is what it is. At least I’m getting closer.” There’s no conviction in my voice, and he clocks it immediately.
“But you shouldn’t have to wait this long, Avery.
You’ve barely been back in my life and I know of two times now that you’ve fallen and almost seriously hurt yourself.
I’m sure there’s a bunch of other things you’re not telling me, too.
Are you sure you won’t let me pay for the tests?
You can pay me back if you want. Just…please, let me help? ”
I start shaking my head immediately. “No. I will not owe another person anything.” I don’t want to explain how Bryan gaslit me into actually believing I was using him and wasting his money. I refuse to go anywhere near that place again.
My eyes shift to Connor, and his brows are knitted together in concentration.
It’s the same look he used to wear when he was trying to figure out a math equation.
Suddenly, something clicks. The tension in his forehead smooths out and he turns his head, his gaze locking in on mine.
His lips part slightly and curve at the edges.
It’s not quite a smile, but it’s enough to make me wonder what’s going on in that brain of his.
But I never could’ve anticipated the words that eventually do come out of his mouth.