“Don’t,” he murmurs, low. “Don’t apologize. Just listen.”
My throat tightens and I nod. Andres turns slightly, facing me more fully. His eyes are steady, but there’s something raw underneath. Something that makes my stomach twist because I know that look.
That look is love mixed with fear.
“Yesterday scared me,” he says quietly. “It scared all of us, and I’m not going to downplay that. But, baby, I was so scared your eyes weren’t gonna open.”
The room is silent. Even Kai doesn’t interrupt. Andres continues, voice calm, but every word is weighted.
“I know lows happen, trust me. I know you manage your diabetes every day and you do it well.” His thumb rubs over my knee. “But twenty-eight, Jackson. In the middle of a game.”
Heat crawls up my neck. Shame, fast and ugly.
I look down and Andres's fingers slide under my chin and tilt my face up gently.
“No,” he says, firm. “Look at me.”
I do.
His eyes are glossy because he’s holding it together. Barely.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” he admits.
My chest aches like it’s being cracked open.
“I’m right here,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says, voice breaking just a little. “But I need you to tell me. Alert staff. Something. Not just when it’s already too far.”
I swallow hard. “I thought I ate enough. False lows can?—”
Gael speaks up calmly. “Jack, you knew it wasn’t a false low. You’re pushing it,carnal.”
Adriana nods. “You’re ignoring signs.”
My stomach twists. “I wasn’t ignoring?—”
“Yes, you were.” Kai scoffs loudly. “I could see you from third doing that thing you do when you go low. That hand flexing thing and the constant blinking.”
I forget that Kai knows all my tells, just like Dre.
Gael too.
Isla elbow-checks him again and Kai grumbles, but he shuts up.
Andres's gaze stays locked on mine. “I think it’s time for an endocrinologist visit,” he says.
My instinct is immediate. Defensive.
Annoyed.
“I don’t need?—”
Andres cuts me off, Spanish slipping out like a warning.“Mi sol,”he says, voice low,“no empieces.”
I clamp my mouth shut because if Andres is pulling out that tone, it means he’s trying very hard to be gentle and he’s close to losing it. He takes a breath and continues softer.
“Not because you’re failing,” he says quickly, like he knows exactly where my brain went. “Not because you’re doing something wrong. But because your settings might need adjusting. Because stress and travel and games are always changing things.”
