“Yeah,” he huffs a laugh. “And I’ll keep showing you how I love you right back.”
And holy shit, he does. Three more times.
Chapter twenty-seven
A constellation of light across the screen
Reid
I’m halfway through a recovery circuit when my phone buzzes on the bench beside me.
I almost ignore it, because I only have thirty more seconds on the bike, but something makes me glance over anyway.
Heidi (Physio)
I slow down and hit accept on the first ring.
“Hey—”
“She’s okay.”
I stop pedaling.
“She?” My voice is already sharp.
Heidi sighs softly. “Carina. She’s okay, I just—look, I probably shouldn’t be calling you, but I figured you’d wanna know.”
I’m already wiping my face, already standing up.
“What happened?”
“She got lightheaded, and eventually confessed she’d skipped lunch. It’s not dramatic, she didn’t faint or anything, but she’s pushing too hard, and she won’t sit down.”
Fucking hell.
“She’s okay,” Heidi says again, gentler now. “But she looks pale, and she brushed me off. And yeah, I know calling you is achoice, but she’s over halfway now, Reid. I didn’t wanna risk her pretending she’s fine if she’s not.”
“I’m on my way.”
I don’t even hang up, just grab my keys and go, barely registering the drive.
By the time I pull into the Moreno Clinic lot, I’ve run through every worst-case scenario twice. Something with the baby, maybe her blood pressure. Something internal she’d never tell anyone about or something she’d try to handle on her own just to prove she still could.
I shove through the clinic doors. Jenny is at the desk, mid-sentence with someone else, but her eyes snap straight to me when I walk in. I see the flicker of recognition.
“Mr. Hutchison! I’m not sure we—”
“You don’t.” I don’t stop for her. I head straight for the corridor that I know leads down to her consult room.
Heidi rounds the corner a second later, her eyes wide and already holding a hand out like she’s preparing to calm down a feral animal.
“Where is she?”
“She’s alright. Come on, this way.”
I follow without question, every muscle in my body stretching tight. Heidi pushes open a side door to one of the consult rooms, not Carina’s office.
She’s sitting on the small padded bench, still in her white coat. A water bottle in one hand, her other arm braced against the wall like she needs the contact to stay upright. She looks up when I enter, and the second our eyes meet, her expression darkens.
