He gripped the edge of the counter. “Maybe we should go to the hospital.”
I shook my head. “This happens sometimes. Hopefully, I can get it in check.”
“Hopefully?” Caden gritted out.
I winced. “Occasionally, I get into a cycle that’s harder to break. But I’ve got the pump for a reason.”
“But it’s clearly not doing its job,” he growled.
I took another bite of the protein bar. “It is. My body just gets out of whack sometimes.”
A muscle along Caden’s jaw ticked. “What do we do now?”
“We?”
Annoyance flickered in those hazel eyes. “You and me. We’re a team. I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone.”
Pressure built behind my eyes. That was exactly how I’d dealt with my disease for most of my life. Alone. Because when I let people in, they tended to hover and try to take over, thinking they knew best. But here Caden was, simply wanting to help. To support me however he could.
I cleared my throat. “Now we go back to bed.”
He looked somewhat skeptical.
“My alarm will wake me up if I need to do anything. Maybe grab another bar just in case?”
Caden nodded and dipped into the pantry again. He reemerged with the entire box, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
He shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”
I poured myself another glass of juice in case I needed it, and we headed back to his bedroom.
We climbed into bed, and Caden pulled me into his arms. It was then that I felt the tremble in his muscles. I looked up at him. “Are you okay?”
He stared down at me, so much emotion in his eyes. “Nothing can happen to you.”
The thread of panic in those words set me on edge. “I’ll be fine.”
Caden held me tighter. “Promise me.”
“I promise.” But I wasn’t sure those words were truly mine to give.
28
CADEN
I watchedGrae as she poured cereal into a bowl. There was no off-key singing along to a song playing on her phone. No dancing around the kitchen while she made an elaborate breakfast. She moved slowly, and I didn’t miss the dark circles rimming her eyes.
It was no wonder. We’d been up a dozen different times last night with her glucose monitor.
“Do you need to call your doctor today?” I asked.
She shook her head. “If it happens again this week, I will. But this kind of thing happens every so often.”
My gut twisted as if some prize fighter were going ten rounds with it. While Grae had gotten a short burst of sleep last night, I’d made the mistake of googling what could happen if a diabetic’s blood sugar got too low. They were at risk for seizures, a coma, and even death in some cases.
My palms started to sweat, and I gripped my coffee mug harder. “I can call off work today, and we can rest.”
“No. You’ve got retreat stuff, and I need to go to work.”
