I tilt my head up ready to ask him ‘why’,but the word doesn’t come.
"Just wanting to make sure. No symptoms? No numbness anywhere? Your legs feel okay? You haven’t got a headache?" His fingers graze the nape of my neck, even though I didn’t tell him it was a problem area for me.
It’s like he just knew. It feels like he always knows.
"You sure seem to know a lot about it." I lift a brow with an easy smile, and he kisses my temple with a soft laugh.
"That’s because I do. But I also heard you. I heard everything you told me, and heard everything you tried to say but couldn’t. I know you’re scared, Olive. I’ll be here for you in whatever way you need me to be."
"Scared of what?" Orlando says, cutting straight through the moment Avery and I were just having. A moment I probably enjoyed too much. "You two need to head back to the hotel," he adds, already shifting into business mode. "Olive, Josie wants me to remind you about your early soundcheck. Avery, you’ve got a game in the afternoon."
He doesn’t acknowledge the way Avery’s arm is still draped over my shoulder, doesn’t even blink at it.
"And yes," he finishes, like it’s the final line in a checklist, "you’ll both be able to support each other. Your jobs don’t overlap."
"Let’s go, then," I say again, only lighter this time.
This time, everybody follows, and we head back to the hotel room.
***
There’s a knock on my hotel room door, and I scramble to my feet in a rush to answer it. On the way, I clip my hip on the kitchen countertop, wincing as I rub it, opening the door.
"Where’s Ryder?" I ask Avery and Orlando as they make themselves comfortable in the now-empty hotel room. The girls rushed out quickly, and I’ve been frantically trying to get my things together before I have to check out of this room and move into the one next door.
As it turns out, a bride has a lot more to pack than anybody else.
Who knew?
"He was adamant about dropping the girls off at the airport. Wanted to make sure they got there okay. At least, that’s what he said. He’s probably trying one last attempt at getting Lizzie’s number, though." Orlando rolls his eyes. "Like he has a chance."
"Lizzie is looking for a husband. A man to father her future children. No offense, but I don’t think Ryder is the type," I tell them both honestly, and while Avery nods with a knowing look, Orlando seems too preoccupied for my words to have any impact.
And when I see what he’s focused on, my stomach falls to my feet, my legs suddenly heavy.
My medication is on the counter, for everyone to see. I forgot I took it out of the fridge to pack it in my bag.
Orlando’s eyebrows pinch together as he looks from the sharps container to me, then to the medication in its box. He flicks his gaze to Avery, and finally back to me.
The three of us stand in silence, all waiting for someone else to be the first to break it.
"That’s—shit—um, it’s not what it looks like," I stammer.
My brain searches for a save, until I realize he probably thinks I’m either on something heavy, or taking medication he doesn’t recognize.
I take a breath, not knowing how this is going to play out.
Then he says, "You too, huh?"
And it suddenly all makes so much sense.
Avery’s automatic acceptance. His knowledge of it all without me saying too much. Hell, I should’ve known something was up, but I was too caught up in my own head to realize that he didn’t ask me any questions about the impacts it could have on me.
How it would and could change my life.
If it would alter my life expectancy.
Instead, he took my hand in his, and told me that nothing had changed.
