Chapter 38
Summer kept her hands in her lap as Benjamin steered them to the same government complex they had left only a few hours before. His hand grasped her knee, and she desperately wanted to cling to it for dear life, but she couldn’t let herself do that. Whatever they learned at the medical examiner’s office wouldn’t change anything. She still needed to let him go.
The way he’d looked when she’d mentioned the annulment, though, as if she’d punched him in the stomach, maybe it meant—
No, it didn’t. She knew it didn’t.
He hadn’t said he loved her. Hadn’t said he wanted to be with her. He’d said that he made a vow before God. That was why he didn’t want to annul their marriage.
Because he was too noble.
There was that word again.
But that didn’t mean he should have to be chained forever to a woman he didn’t love.
Benjamin pulled into a parking spot and turned the car off but didn’t make a move to get out.
“We should go inside,” she said quietly. “It’s almost four o’clock.” When he still didn’t move, she added, “You can wait in the car, if you want.”
A muscle in his cheek jumped, but he shook his head, let out a hard breath, and opened his car door. Summer did the same, and when they met at the back of the car, he took her hand. His grip was firm and reassuring as he led her to the building next to the courthouse where they’d been celebrating only this morning.
Inside, a kind but somber looking receptionist invited them to take a seat. The waiting area was softer and more welcoming than Summer had expected, and Benjamin led them to a small sofa. He sat next to her and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands. He looked so defeated that Summer couldn’t keep herself from resting a hand on his shoulder. His muscles twitched under her fingertips, and he reached to cover her hand with his.
“Miss Ellis?” A middle-aged woman with a kind smile poked her head through a door Summer hadn’t even noticed.
She let out a breath and stood. Next to her, Benjamin did the same, his fingers slipping silently into hers.
“Thanks for coming in on such short notice.” The woman held out a slender hand, and Summer had to let go of Benjamin’s to shake it.
“I’m Dr. Ramstadt. I’m a genetic counselor who consults with the county in cases of postmortem genetic testing.”
“Nice to meet you,” Summer murmured.
“And you must be . . .” The woman held her hand out to Benjamin as well.
“Benjamin Calvano. Summer’s husband,” he answered.
“I’m glad you could make it too.” Dr. Ramstadt’s expression turned serious, though her voice remained cheerful. “Why don’t y’all come on back, and we’ll talk about a few things.”
She led them across the hall to an office that could have been a tropical rainforest, with plants covering nearly every open space—the desk, the shelves, the windowsill. Summer wondered vaguely if this was how Dr. Ramstadt handled dealing with death all day—by surrounding herself with living things.
The doctor gestured for them to sit in two cushioned chairs that were pulled up to a low coffee table covered with orchids. She took a seat across from them.
“As you know,” the woman began, folding her hands over her lap as if they’d gotten together for a casual chat, “your brother experienced sudden cardiac death.”
Even though she had known this for weeks, Summer winced.
“But because the cause of his cardiac event was undetermined through standard autopsy, we submitted his samples for further testing,” the woman continued, and Summer wanted to stop her right there.
TJ wasn’t some kind of lab specimen. He was a real, live human being. Or he had been.
“Were you able to determine the cause?” Benjamin leaned forward, and Summer could see the ripple of tension in the muscles of his forearm.
“We were.” Dr. Ramstadt’s voice softened, and she glanced at them both with sympathy. “TJ had something we call dilated cardiomyopathy.”
Summer stared at her blankly. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Cardiomyopathy is a form of heart disease that makes it harder for the heart to pump blood through the body. In the case of dilated cardiomyopathy, this results from a dilation, or enlargement, of one of the heart’s chambers, and a thinning or weakening of the heart muscle in that area.”
“But he—” Summer tried to grasp what the woman was saying. It made no sense. “He could run for miles and miles and miles.” She turned desperately to Benjamin. “Tell her how far y’all ran.”
Benjamin opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Dr. Ramstadt cut in. “Patients often don’t have any symptoms. That’s probably why he was never diagnosed.”
“And cardiomyopathy is a genetic condition?” Benjamin asked quietly.
“Not always,” Dr. Ramstadt answered. “But in TJ’s case, yes. It was caused by a rare genetic variant.”
Benjamin reached for Summer’s hand, gripping it tightly, and she looked from him to the doctor. Had she missed something?
“Does that mean . . .” Benjamin’s face went gray, and his lips stretched into a sharp line.
“Mean what?” Summer had never wished more that she had paid better attention in biology class.
“It means,” the doctor said gently. “That everyone in the family should be tested.”
“Tested?” Summer felt like her mind was moving through tar. Like everyone else was three steps ahead of her. “For . . .”
“Because it’s a genetic disorder,” Dr. Ramstadt said, “there’s a chance others in the family may also have this variant.”
“I— So— You mean Max might—” Summer’s brain rebelled against finishing the sentence.
“Max is TJ’s son, correct?” the doctor asked.
Summer nodded mutely as Benjamin said, “Yes.”
“Then possibly,” the woman said. “But TJ had a recessive gene variant. That means both of your parents had the gene mutation. There’s a good chance Max’s mother didn’t have it, and if that’s the case, Max couldn’t have inherited the disorder.” The woman paused, her eyes settling gently on Summer. “It’s much more likely that you did.”
Benjamin’s hand jerked, and his eyes closed as his chin fell toward his chest.
He said something to the doctor, but suddenly the only thing Summer could hear was her heart beating in her ears. She had the odd sensation that it might stop at any moment.
Benjamin talked to Dr. Ramstadt for a few more minutes, but Summer could think of only one thing: She’d promised just this morning that she would take care of Max until he was an adult.
But what if she didn’t have the chance?