Page 28 of For the Rest of Forever

“Shh, no, Allen, you’re fine. I’m calling Greg right now, okay?”

He gave a weak nod and let his hand fall back down to his side. The numbness in his fingers had turned into a tingling, buzzing sensation that was both uncomfortable and rattled him.

“Mr. Westin?” It was Owen again, and Allen forced his eyes open to find the teen kneeling next to him, his lips pursed with concern.

“Yes, Owen?” he managed, and he closed his eyes again, too weak to keep them open. God, what was wrong with him?

“Sir, I’d like to elevate your legs a bit. That could help bring your blood pressure back to normal. Is that okay with you, sir?”

Again, Allen wondered how Owen knew this, but now wasn’t the time to ask, and so he just nodded with a feeble “yes.” A moment later, he felt his legs lifted and his feet settled onto a chair.

“There you go, Mr. Westin.”

“Thank you, Owen,” he said.

Annabeth’s hand moved to his shoulder. “Greg, hi... No, actually, he— ...No, he’s... Yeah.” With effort, Allen opened his eyes again and turned his head toward Annabeth, who was setting her phone down on the floor next to him and shaking her head slightly. Her eyes met his, and she seemed relieved somehow, offering him a gentle smile as she squeezed his shoulder. “Greg is on his way.”

He didn’t get a chance to respond because the paramedics arrived right then, and there was a flurry of activity around him. A young woman maybe in her early twenties knelt down next to him and began asking Annabeth and the boys questions, and someone took his blood pressure and listened to his heart. He closed his eyesjust to block out all the activity around him, and he focused instead on his breathing. In and out. In and out.

Not more than a couple of minutes later, one of the paramedics lowered Allen’s legs from the chair and then helped him to sit up slowly. He still felt weak, a bit dizzy. And the intense throbbing right behind his eyes had only gotten worse.

It wasn’t until he opened his eyes a moment later that he noticed Greg standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and his face taut with worry.

Pain and hurt and sadness hit him, and he clenched his jaw and blinked his eyes closed. How long had Greg been there? Why wasn’t he sitting there next to Allen, helping to support him, telling him he loved him? Had he finally realized—

“Mr. Westin?”

Allen heard his name from the woman on his left, and he tilted his head slightly in her direction. “Yes, sorry, I... What did you say?”

She seemed to give him a reassuring smile. “I need to ask you a series of questions to determine whether we should take you to the hospital or whether you should just go home and rest and then follow up with your physician. Do you understand?”

Allen swallowed and gave a weak nod. Then he lowered his eyes to his hands and did his best to answer all of her questions honestly. When she was finished, she told him to sit tight and relax for a few more minutes, and then she stood while her colleague took Allen’s blood pressure again.

The general commotion in the room seemed to have quieted down, and Allen lifted his eyes to take in the scene. But he immediately saw Greg, still watching him, still standing just a few feet away, and his heart ached. He swallowed as he held his husband’s gaze for a moment before his jaw started to tremble.

“Greg...” He could barely form the word for some reason, but the instant it left his lips, his husband was at his side, sitting next to him on the floor. Greg’s hand took his, and Allen closed his eyes again as a comforting warmth replaced the chill that had been with him all morning.

Soft lips grazed his cheek. “I’m sorry, darling. They told me to stay back until they were finished, and I... I’m sorry. I’m here now. I’m here.”

Allen just gave a weak nod and leaned against his husband’s shoulder as the other young man on his right began to remove the blood pressure cuff from his arm.

“What was it?” he heard Greg ask.

The sound of the Velcro unfastening on the blood pressure cuff grated on Allen’s ears, and he almost flinched.

“One hundred over seventy.”

“Is that okay? It’s lower than normal for him.”

“It’s within an acceptable range, yeah,” the paramedic said. His hand settled lightly on Allen’s shoulder. “Mr. Westin, can you hear me, sir?”

Allen cleared his throat and nodded but kept his eyes closed. “Yes.”

“Alright, sir, so we don’t need to take you to the hospital, but we do recommend you see your physician as soon as you can for a follow-up.” Allen nodded again, and the man continued. “From what we gather, the fainting episode was likely a combination of situational and postural syncope. The emotional stress you’ve been under can cause fluctuations in your blood pressure, and then when you stood up, that may have also caused another drop. Given the lack of history of any other medical issues, we don’t see a need to take you to the ER. But like I said, you should follow up with your physician as soon as possible to rule out any other causes. Does that make sense, sir?”

Before Allen could answer, Greg squeezed his hand and then listed off a set of rapid-fire questions to the paramedic, speaking too quickly for Allen to follow. So instead, he just let out a long, slow breath and continued to lean up against his husband as the paramedic addressed each of Greg’s concerns.

“That’s right, yes. Rest and stay hydrated. And he said he’s not on any medications. Right, Allen? So that’s not something to worry about.”

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