With a curse, I turn into the parking lot of a pharmacy and run inside. I grab cans of soup and crackers, along with one of every type of medicine. I need to be prepared.
I check out, throw the bags in the passenger seat, and speed out of the parking lot. It’s quiet outside her apartment, and I take the stairs two at a time up to her door.
“Hazel?” I call, knocking on her door.
I shift on my feet, squeezing the handle of the plastic bags tighter as I wait for her to answer.
What if she’s not here? Did she go to the doctor? To the hospital? Fuck, I should have insisted on driving her home. I should be taking care of her.
I knock again, my heartbeat racing in my ears so loudly that I can’t hear any movement coming from inside.
Has she passed out? Goddamn, I’m never letting her out of my sight again.
Finally, the door swings open, and my knees almost give out when I see her.
Then I get a good look at her, and panic claws at me again.
Her eyes are red, and she looks pale and tired. I drop the bags, grab her, and wrap her in my arms.
"I’m taking you to the doctor. Right now,” I snap when she starts to argue with me.
“I’m fine,” she insists, but I shake my head, scooping her up in my arms.
I kick the bags of medicine and food inside, swipe her keys off the table by the door, and turn, locking up behind me before I head down to my car.
I give Hazel a hard look as she wriggles against me. “You’re sick. You didn’t answer any of my texts or calls. You’re going to the doctor.”
“I’m fine!” she snaps.
I shake my head at her, buckling her into the passenger seat. “I’ll believe it when a doctor confirms it.”
I close the door before she can say anything else and jog around to the driver’s side. Hazel is a grumpy angel in my passenger seat as I merge with the light traffic and head toward the emergency room.
“This is unnecessary,” she says weakly.
“It’s very necessary. Your health is of the utmost importance.”
“Oh my god,” she grumbles.
I relax a little. At least she’s here beside me, fighting with me.
We pull up to the hospital a few minutes later, and I park up front, hopping out to get her door for her.
Screw that, I think when she starts to get out.
I lift her into my arms, kick the door shut, and stride toward the front doors. Hazel squirms in my arms, and I look down to see her nervous expression.
“You don’t like seeing the doctor?” I ask as we head inside.
“When I’m totally fine? No. I hate wasting people’s time.”
“You’re not fine!” I snap. “You’re pale, and you said you weren’t feeling well this morning.”
I set her in a seat and go to reception to check her in. Thankfully, the emergency room is pretty quiet, and I’m handed some forms to fill out a few minutes later.
When I sit down next to Hazel, she’s still looking worried. I reach over, squeezing her hand to comfort her, frowning when she tenses. She tries to take the clipboard and forms from me, but I tug them away.
“I’ve got it.”
