“Tessa, did you happen to take anything today?” He flips a paper on the clipboard. “Like any medication?”
I shake my head.
“What about drugs?”
I bundle the bedsheets in my fingers. “What? Of course not.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, clearly not convinced.
“She said no,” Rome repeats. “Don’t make her say it again.”
The doctor glances at Rome briefly then back to me.
“Then someone drugged you.”
My heart sinks, and the room narrows. “What?”
“Excuse me?” Rome’s voice is distant.
I channel through the events before the race and can’t come up with a logical reason for what the doctor is saying.
“Did anyone give you something? Food? Or a drink that wasn’t sealed?”
“No–” I lock onto Rome.
His face pales, and he turns back to the doctor. “Are you saying someone spiked her drink?”
“If she is telling the truth that she didn’t ingest the medication on her own, then yes.”
“I don’t take medication, and I certainly don’t do drugs,” I stress.
Rome stands and ends up in between the doctor and me. “What medication?” he asks, voice throaty.
“Inderal.” The doctor sighs. “It’s used for anxiety or sometimes a heart condition. It can lower blood pressure and heart rate, likely why she fainted. It can also make an individual feel slow, or heavy, maybe having slurred words and confusion.”
Rome’s fists clench.
A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, and I slowly lower myself back to my pillow. Exhaustion settles in again, my limbs heavy.
“We’re going to keep her here for a little longer to make sure her blood pressure stays steady, but then she should be okay to be discharged.”
Rome scoffs. “Should?”
The doctor attempts to hide his amusement, turning around with a half-smirk. “I misspoke. She will be fine to be discharged.”
Then he walks out, leaving me and Rome alone in a tiny hospital room with too many unanswered questions.
His back remains rigid, the long-sleeve white undershirt stretched across his taut muscles.
I exhale slowly.
Seconds pass, and he doesn’t make a sound. I peek an eye open, and he stands in the same spot, spine stiff.
“Rome?” I rasp.
His piercing blue eyes find me over his shoulder, and flutters fly to my lower stomach. The whites of his eyes are stark against the blue, his eyes wide and breathing shallow. “Tell me you know I wouldn’t do that.”
I place my hands on the bed and sit up tall. “Of course you wouldn’t. Why would I think that?”
