Despite everything, Blake was still my rock. Even through two years of silence, I’d known that if I ever truly needed him, one call would bring him running.
“It’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes, Tessa. It’s okay to lean on people; it doesn’t make you weak.”
“Says the man who refuses to lean on anyone. Ever.”
His lips twitched. “That’s not true. I’ve leaned on you and Ryker.”
“We’re the exception to the rule; you never let anyone else in.”
And never told uswhy.
“In college, I even made a few more buddies.” His attempt at lightness fell flat.
“On accident,” I teased. “Ryker made you join that fraternity.”
Something dark flashed in his eyes, and suddenly, I could feel the chasm opening around him. The one he always disappeared into when conversations strayed too close to his secrets. But what secrets could he have from college? I thought all his secrets preceded our time with him?
When he cleared his throat and looked down at his hands, I recognized the move like an old dance step. That throat clear was his involuntary SOS signal when conversations threatened to expose too much.
“Tell me everything, Tessa.” His voice was gentle but firm, doctor mode sliding back into place like armor.
I paused, the weight of my own secrets pressing against my chest.
Finally, I took a deep breath, feeling like I was about to step off a cliff.
“It started a little over a year ago …”
16
TESSA
“It started with the flu,” I said, fidgeting with my hospital blanket. “The usual symptoms. Fever, body aches, chills, and a cough.” I paused, remembering how simple it had seemed back then. “But the cough wouldn’t go away, so I went to my primary care physician. She ran blood work, did a chest X-ray …” I shrugged. “Thought I had viral bronchitis. Said it needed to run its course.”
Blake nodded encouragingly.
“But it didn’t get better.” My voice caught. “My cough wouldn’t go away, and then the fatigue came. The fatigue became debilitating like I was going through each day on sleeping pills. Brain fog set in, and I was just so physically exhausted that I couldn’t work out anymore. It took every ounce of energy just to get through my day.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Eventually, I couldn’t even manage that. I’d collapse on my couch the second I walked in the door.”
Blake’s face tightened, but he remained silent, letting me continue.
“I thought maybe it had turned into a secondary infection, like pneumonia, so I went to urgent care. They ran the same tests, got the same results: blood count normal, chest X-rayclear.” I rubbed my temples, the memory of that frustration rising fresh. “They ruled out strep, Covid, and pneumonia and sent me home.”
I shifted in the hospital bed, avoiding Blake’s intense gaze. “I started thinking maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough to fight it off. So, I bought all these healthy foods, premium vitamins … you know, doing everything you’re supposed to do. Vitamin C, rest, the works.” My lips twisted. “It worked at first. I started to feel better, with the chest stuff at least. And the fatigue started to decrease too.”
That false hope that it was behind me was cruel.
“A few weeks later, the nausea and stomachaches started.” I closed my eyes briefly. “First, I blamed the new vitamins. And I stopped taking them. Went back to my old ones. When that didn’t work, I quit vitamins altogether, thinking maybe I’d irritated my stomach lining. Just tried to wait it out.”
Still leaning forward in his chair, Blake repositioned his elbows on his knees. I could see him processing everything with his doctor’s mind, but his eyes … they held something else. Concern? Guilt?
“I just didn’t feel right. I started getting headaches and itchy skin.”
“Itchy?”
I nodded. “Started taking an antihistamine, figuring I must be getting into something I was allergic to.”
“Did it help?”
“It did. With the itching. But then the stomach pains got worse. When my heart started feeling like it was beating too fast, my doctor sent me to a cardiologist.”
