Chapter Fourteen Derek
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Derek
She fell into my arms, and I nearly lost my balance trying to catch her.
Her body was limp, her eyes fluttering like she was trying to wake up but couldn’t quite manage it.
Her skin was alarmingly warm, almost feverish, and she was still wearing the damp running outfit she’d left the apartment in the previous morning.
Her complexion had turned ashen, and her lips were dry and cracked.
I swallowed hard, panic starting to grip my chest.
“Hey, Jasmine,” I murmured, scooping her into my arms as gently as I could and carrying her to the living room couch.
My heart raced as I placed her down, brushing a strand of damp hair away from her face.
“Jasmine. Wake up.” Her eyes fluttered open for a split second before closing again, and her head lolled to the side.
I fumbled for my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed 911. After a seemingly eternal hold, they informed me that it could take over forty-five minutes for an ambulance to arrive. Frustration and fear twisted in my gut as I hung up and immediately called David.
“Hey, Ch—” he began, but I cut him off before he could finish his greeting.
“David, it’s Jasmine. She’s sick. She’s passed out. She’s got a fever. I gotta get her to a hospital. I called 911, but they said it could take up to forty-five minutes. I need help.”
“Hold on, hold on,” David said, his voice calm and steady, which only made me feel more frantic. “Take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on.”
I crouched down beside Jasmine, still unconscious on the couch, and let out a shaky exhale.
I explained the last twelve hours in a rambling rush, carefully omitting the part where I’d berated her for losing Tora and left her to cry herself to sleep without any food.
Guilt and regret clawed at my chest, and I blinked rapidly to keep tears at bay.
If anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.
Barely ten minutes later, a firm knock at the door jolted me from my spiraling thoughts. When I opened it, David filed in, followed by his wife, Eleanor, holding a large cloth tote bag, and another woman with a stethoscope draped around her neck and a leather satchel slung over one shoulder.
“David, thank you for coming,” I said, ushering them inside.
“Of course,” he replied, clapping a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Derek, this is Dr. Emery Lyons. She’s one of the town’s doctors.”
“Thank you for coming,” I stammered, feeling a flicker of hope for the first time since Jasmine collapsed. “I tried calling 911, but…”
“Yeah, we’re pretty isolated out here,” Dr. Lyons said with a small smile. “Luckily for you and your wife, there are quite a few of us medical professionals who live in town. Where’s the patient?”
“She’s right over here,” I said, leading her to the couch where Jasmine lay motionless. Dr. Lyons immediately got to work, pulling various tools and gadgets from her bag. I stood off to the side, feeling utterly helpless as she poked and prodded Jasmine, her expression calm but focused.
After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Lyons approached me, holding a tablet she was tapping on. “Is she going to be okay?” I blurted out before she could say a word.
“How long has she been out?” she asked, glancing between me and the screen.
“I don’t know. Maybe thirty or forty minutes,” I said, then immediately corrected myself when I glanced at my watch. “I’m sorry, it’s only been about fifteen minutes. It felt so much longer.”
“I understand.” She offered me a reassuring smile. “I checked her vitals. Her blood pressure and pulse are slightly elevated, but that’s most likely due to dehydration. She’s breathing fine. Her pupils are equal and responsive.”
“So what’s wrong with her?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“Her temperature is elevated,” Dr. Lyons explained, “so I suspect she caught a cold while she was out looking for the dog in the rain. How long was she out there?”
“About twelve hours,” I admitted, each word heavy with guilt.
Dr. Lyons let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’d do it.
Add stress to that, and you have a recipe for this.
” She gestured to Jasmine. “The best thing to do is to make her as comfortable as possible. Get her out of those damp clothes and into bed. Hopefully, she’ll come to soon and we can get some fluids into her. ”
“And if she doesn’t?” Dread curled in my stomach.
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” she said firmly, packing up her tools.
I nodded and carefully scooped Jasmine into my arms. Her body felt fragile, and her skin was still too warm.
Tora followed close behind, his concerned whine the only sound as I carried her to the bedroom.
I laid her gently on the bed, and Tora immediately hopped up beside her, curling into a protective ball at her side.
His head rested on his paws, his sharp eyes watching my every move, as if daring me to leave her alone.
I began peeling off her damp workout clothes, my fingers trembling as I worked.
Her skin was cold and clammy under my touch, and I found myself murmuring desperate prayers under my breath, promising anything to anyone who might be listening if they’d just let her be okay.
I tried not to think about how she’d react to this—if she wanted to wake up and slap me, I’d gladly accept it.
Anything would be better than seeing her like this.
Once she was out of the wet clothes, I rummaged through the dresser and found a soft tank top and a pair of pajama pants. I was halfway through dressing her when she stirred.
“Derek,” she whispered, her voice so faint I almost missed it.
“Yes, Jasmine.” I leaned closer. “I’m here. I’m here.”
She let out a soft moan and relaxed against the pillows. I finished dressing her and called Dr. Lyons back into the room. Eleanor followed close behind, her expression a mix of concern and determination. I decided to give them space and stepped out, though I hesitated at the door.
“Come on, Tora.” I hoped he’d follow me.
The dog didn’t budge. Instead, he let out a low growl, his gaze fixed on Jasmine. It was his way of saying he wasn’t going anywhere, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him. I knew exactly how he felt.