Page 45 of The Downside of Love
Do you know what’s really confusing? How Stryder can be such an asshole, shutting me out one minute, and then in the next, he shows openness and kindness to the Special Olympic athletes. He went above and beyond to help me out, to make this year’s event the best it’s ever been. The look on Bryan’s face as he watched the guys parachute in during the opening ceremony . . . God, it was everything. One of the races is finishing up on the track, so as I walk, I clap for the athletes who are giving it their all, the movement painful, the smile on my face fading.
I grip my side, leaning into the fence for support as my stomach rolls from the pain. My mouth becomes dry and my mind spins uncontrollably, making me feel incredibly dizzy.
I don’t think this is from a lack of hydration. Looking up into the crowds of cheering people, I search for my mom, who is here with Bryan.
Shit, she’s here with Bryan. She can’t leave him.
Another bout of pain strikes me, crippling me against the fence. My legs are weak, and as a sheen of sweat coats my skin, my head becomes dizzier than ever. My stomach is queasy, and before I can find anywhere more appropriate, I hurl my body toward a trashcan and throw up, my stomach convulsing. Coughing and gripping onto the trashcan, hoping and praying no one is watching me, my stomach heaves again.
“Rory?” a deep voice asks. I know that voice; it’s the same voice that had me frustrated last night. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I wave my hand in the air nonchalantly. I don’t turn to look at him. I can’t, or else I’ll collapse.
“Rory, you’re not fine. What is going on?” His large hand presses against my back, his face coming into view as he leans over. I haven’t talked to him at all this morning, and this is one of the first things we get to have a conversation about; why I’m throwing up in a trashcan.Fantastic.
“I . . .” I try to answer him as I sway. “I don’t know,” I finally answer, my pride flying out the window.
“Shit,” Stryder mumbles, and without another word, he scoops me up into his arms, which feel strong and protective.
I can feel my head rest against his strong chest, but then I don’t register much as I start to nod off, the pain taking over.
* * *
“Hey.” A warm hand caresses my cheek as my eyes flutter open.
I’m in a hospital bed, an IV is attached to my hand, blankets cover my lap, and a pair of soulful blue eyes stare back at me.
What the hell is going on?
“How are you feeling?” Stryder asks, his large body sitting as close as possible to my bed, one hand holding mine, the other gently caressing my cheek. There is worry in his features; true worry . . . for me.
“Uh, okay,” I answer. I’m so confused. I must have passed out from the pain, because the last thing I remember is being in my car, Stryder frantically driving. I give the room a once-over, noticing it’s only Stryder here. “What happened?”
“Your appendix ruptured. I was in the waiting room on the phone with your mom, so when the doctors came to look for family, your mom gave me permission to be there while she was with Bryan. I hope that’s okay.” His voice is soft. There’s a pinch in his brow, and a ruffle to his hair as if he’s been stressfully running his hand through it.
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “I’m glad you’re here and I’m not alone.” I bite my bottom lip. “Am I going to be okay?”
He nods, his face softening. “Yes, from what your mom told me, I got you to the hospital just in time. You went into emergency surgery where they had to remove the ruptured appendix and then clean out the whole area to remove any residual bacteria. I’m pretty sure you’re staying the night for monitoring and you’re going to be on antibiotics for at least six weeks.”
“Six weeks? That’s so long.”
“You’re also going to have to take it easy for the next few days. The doctor said you’re not going to be able to do your workout classes for a bit and suggested you cancel some of your massage appointments.”
Sighing, knowing I can’t argue about the stress I’ve put on my body, I lean farther back on the bed and cast my eyes forward, thinking about the impact of all of this. There is no doubt in my mind I might have to borrow some money from my parents if the doctor makes me take too much time off, because I live paycheck to paycheck. I’ve been able to save up a little these past few months from taking on extra work, but I don’t want to spend all of that right away if I don’t have to.
My mind is wandering . . . what will I need to do over these next few days?
“You scared the shit out of me, Rory.”
Meeting Styrder’s gaze, I take him in. Truly take him in. He looks like he’s aged a few years, so much concern in his brow, worry in his beautiful eyes, tension in his shoulders.
“I’m . . . sorry.”
He scoots in closer, his thumb rubbing over my cheekbone, his eyes searching mine. “You don’t need to be sorry, Rory. Hell, I’m just . . .” He takes a deep breath. His thumb feels like a warm blanket, covering me, soft and comforting. “I’m just glad I was there and was able to act quickly.” His eyes move back and forth over mine when he says, “You could have died, Rory. It wasn’t just appendicitis. Your appendix actually ruptured.”
I should be freaked out.
I should be thanking my lucky stars that nothing serious happened to me.
