“Ivy,” a strained voice crackles over the phone.
Oh, shit. Wesley.
I pick up my phone, and take it off speaker. I watch as Sophie snatches the entire container of cookies off of the counter, and throws them in the trash violently, like they’ve personally wronged her.
I bring the phone to my ear. “Hi,” I say, still a little rough, but much better than before.
“What.Happened,” Wesley chokes out.
It’s not really a question, it’s a command. He doesn’t even try to hide the anger in his voice, though I know it’s not directed at me, but at the situation.
“I had an allergic reaction to the walnuts in a cookie. No big deal, I had my emergency medicine. We’re all good,” I try to soothe him.
“I’m coming home.”
38
Wes
“You’re not coming home,” Ivy rasps.
If she could only hear her voice. It’s choppy, and cracks on almost every word. I try to calm my racing heart. Try to take deep breaths. It’s no use.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice sharp.
There’s silence for a moment, and then she answers. “Tell you I was allergic to walnuts? I don’t know, it’s not something I think about all the time. I haven’t had a reaction in years. It’s not a regular thing I have to worry about,” she says. “I just avoid them, and it’s not an issue. It was a mistake.”
Her voice starts out strong, but gets weaker by the end of her sentence. I’m an asshole. I don’t need her explaining herself, she needs rest.
“If I would’ve known you were that allergic to something, I would’ve made sure your medicine, or EpiPen, or whatever it is, was nearby,” I say, my voice so low I might be just talking to myself.
Listening to Sophie try and find Ivy’s EpiPen, was my own personal hell. All I heard was her shouting, and throwing shit around.
I felt so unbelievably helpless.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and try to push away the burning sensation.
Visions of Sarah being wheeled out of the hospital room flash in my head. The doctor’s cold hand on my shoulder as she told me Sarah wouldn’t be coming back. Me sitting on that shitty plastic couch, cradling our brand new daughter, just staring at the door she left through—waiting for someone to come in and tell me it was a mistake.
I wouldn’t be able to survive it if something happened to Ivy. If I ever lost her–
“Wes?” Ivy’s voice breaks through.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I choke out, as one singular tear escapes.
“Yes, I promise.” Her voice softens. “I’ll make sure I have my medicine easily accessible from now on.”
I clear my throat and wipe the wetness away. “How many more do you have?”
She’s silent.
“Ivy?” I repeat, my tone harder now.
“None.” I can hear the wince. “But I’ll get some more,” she rushes out.
“I’m buying a hundred of them,” I say through gritted teeth.
Ivy giggles at that, but I’m not joking. The second I get home, I’m buying as many as I can get my hands on. I don’t care if you can’t get them over the counter. I know a doctor, I have an in. I’ll threaten Beau if I have to.
