“A dietitian is coming to go over everything—meal plans, tracking carbs and fats, managing your levels. And you’ll need to start insulin therapy.”
His voice continues, but it’s already fading—the edges of my world blur. I don’t hear anything but the pounding of my heart and the echo of one truth that crashes over me like a wave.I’m fucked.
8
MELANIE
We rode in silence, the hum of the tires on pavement the only sound between us. Nick’s jaw was clenched, eyes locked ahead like he was afraid to look at me—afraid the words he wanted to say might come spilling out. I didn’t want them. I couldn’t handle them. My brain was already splintering under the weight of three words: You have diabetes.
It felt like a death sentence I hadn’t seen coming. Chronic. Lifelong. Unforgiving. I was barely keeping my head above water as it was—how the hell was I supposed to manage this? I didn’t even know how I’d afford the medication. My life suddenly felt like it had been thrown off a cliff, and I was tumbling, limbs flailing, no ground in sight. The only way out I could see was backward—calling my mom, crawling home with my pride shattered, begging for help. My stomach twisted at the thought. I’d worked so hard to break away, to build something of my own. But now? Now I was just scared. A little girl again, hoping someone would tell her everything would be okay.
But even that comfort felt uncertain. My parents were self-employed and didn’t believe in doctors unless something was broken or bleeding. I didn’t even know if they had insurance. Iknew they’d pay for the insulin, no matter what it cost. They’d find a way. They always had. I never got sick much as a kid, but when I did, Olga would be there before my fever spiked—cool cloth in hand, whispering comfort into my hair. She always knew when I needed her.
And like clockwork, she’d called earlier. Probably felt the shift in the air. Olga’s intuition scared me sometimes, as if she had a direct line to my soul. More than my mother ever did.
Nick’s voice pulled me out of the spiral. “You want me to stop at the pharmacy before I take you back to your car?”
I blinked, dragging my gaze from the blur of pine trees flashing past the window. His voice had cut through the chaos in my mind like a knife through fog. “No,” I said quietly. “Just take me to my car.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. You’ve done enough.”
He turned to look at me then, brows pulling together like I’d hurt him.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead. “It’s just—today has been hell, and I’m barely holding it together. I need to be alone. I need to call my mom to figure out if we have insurance. I’ve only got cash, and I’m not sure it’ll cover what I need.”
“Okay.”
Just that. Soft, understanding. No sarcasm, no jab. His voice had this strange tenderness to it that made me glance at him again, half wondering if he was the one who needed a doctor. It wasn’t like him to be this gentle. And maybe that’s what scared me most—that I needed it.
When we rounded the corner into the restaurant parking lot, the man standing in front of my car immediately caught my eye.
“What the fuck?” I whispered
“Is that your car?” He asks
“Yes, pull over here.” I’m practically out of the car before Nick stops.
“Hey,” I shout at the guy. “That’s my car, and I work here. I’m not parked in the other business parking lot.”
“That’s not why we are towing it, ma’am.”
“Okay… care to enlighten me why?” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the dude. Even though I was acting tough, deep down, I wanted a bed to crash on. I was so exhausted that I could feel my legs about to give out. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with. Within seconds, I felt Nick’s presence behind me; surprisingly, it brought me confidence.
“What seems to be the problem, sir?” Nick stands next to me, and a sense of security presents itself. I try to ignore it.
“Miss Barbie’s daily payments have been bouncing due to insufficient funds for over a week now. So I’m just doing my job and taking care of business.”
“Damn it,” I say, running a hand through my hair.
“What’s wrong?” Nick turns to face me.
“I forgot that it was on my parents’ credit card.”
“Do you not have your own credit card?”
“It is my credit card, but I’m on their account. They make the payments, but my mom canceled my card.”
