Page 67 of Defend Her Heart

When I turn the corner to where the check-in desk is, my heart drops to my feet. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair, head down looking at his phone with his long legs stretched out in front of him, is Connor. My feet move on their own accord, my body automatically being pulled toward his direction instead of toward the desk to check in.

“Connor?”

As soon as I say his name, his eyes snap up to mine. I watch his lips curve and his eyes light up but I don’t return the smile. I’m confused. What is he doing here? He should be on a plane. I swear, if he postponed his flight again, I will kick his ass.

He’s out of his chair now and standing in front of me. “Ready to get these results? I joined a few POTS groups online and?—”

“What are you doing here?” I cut him off. As if my mind doesn’t believe he’s real, my hand shoots out and I poke his arm.

He looks down at where I just poked him and laughs. “Why are you poking me?”

I snatch my hand back, embarrassed. “Just making sure you’re real.”

This was the absolute worst thing to say because now he wears a cocky grin and takes a step closer to me. Pushing my hair behind my ear he leans in and whispers. “I’m real. And you’re blushing.”

Well, hell.

“Why aren’t you on a plane to Sweden right now? So help me, if you’re going to miss more of your sister’s games for me, I will smack you.”

He rests his hands on my shoulders. “I got a later flight tonight. I promise, I’m leaving. Just after we get these results.”

The way he says it, he’s acting like it’s no big deal. As if he didn’t already postpone going to the freaking Olympics to watch his sister once already for me. Like that’s not the most thoughtful thing in the entire world. How the hell am I supposed tonotswoon for this man?

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

He splays his hand on my lower back and gestures toward the desk where I still have yet to check in for my appointment. “No need to thank me, Aves. This is the only place I need to be right now. Now, let’s get you checked in.”

In a complete Connor-induced haze, I go through the motions of checking in. At one point, the woman at the desk asks me to confirm my insurance and I’m too busy staring at Connor to respond. Luckily, he steps in and handles that for me. I can’t believe he’s actually here.

We’re led to an exam room where we’re currently waitingfor my cardiologist. We’ve been back here all of ten minutes and Connor is already complaining.

“Why do they make appointment times if they never actually plan on starting the appointment at that time?” He’s pacing the tiny room now, giving me anxiety for the first time today.

I grab his arm and haul him into the chair next to mine. “Would you sit? You’re making me more nervous than this actual appointment.”

He runs his hand through his hair that’s grown out just enough that a couple strands flop down onto his forehead. I’m not sure why he’s the one more nervous right now but seeing him disheveled like this is new. In an attempt to calm him down, I grab his hand with mine and give it a little squeeze.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

His mouth opens to respond, but a knock on the door interrupts us. We both turn toward the sound, and I inhale a breath when my doctor walks in. He greets us both with a smile, introducing himself as Dr. Lang, and I exhale, doing my best to stay calm. There’s no need to panic. We’re here for my results and we’re taking a step in the right direction.

He leans back against the counter near the sink and doesn’t waste any time getting started.

“Well, Avery. I’m sure you already know this considering you fainted during your test, but we can officially say you have POTS.” He pauses for a moment waiting for a reaction.

I knew this already, but for some reason hearing it out loud knocks the wind out of me. Connor’s grip on my hand tightens. I look his way, and he searches my eyes.

You’re okay, he mouths.

I turn back to my doctor who gives me a sympathetic smile. “I know you’ve been through a lot the past couple years, and I’m sorry that it took this long for someone to take you seriously. This diagnosis might feel like the end of the world, I get that. And I’m not going to pretend like it’s a small thing,but there are things we can do, steps we can take, to ensure that you can still thrive and have a fulfilling life. It might just look a little different now.”

My head bobs as he continues to explain the lifestyle changes I need to make, many of which I already anticipated due to my own research. Hell, it’s why I had to stop playing hockey and find a job where I can sit the majority of the time. He tells me that because I’ve been so proactive with lifestyle changes already but still struggle, he’s going to prescribe me beta blockers to see if that helps.

At some point during the appointment, Connor pulls his phone out and starts taking notes, jotting down information the doctor was relaying.

Dr. Lang pauses and smiles at Connor, nodding his way. “It’s really smart to write some of this down. I’m throwing a lot of information at you. I’ll be giving you some resources as well, but I like a man who comes prepared. Not everyone has someone in their corner who cares so much.” He turns his attention to me now. “Lean on him. This isn’t going to be easy.”

I nod and turn to Connor, smiling at him. I’m so damn thankful he’s here with me today.