I know she is. My stomach drops.
“I should let you go,” she says, unblinking.
“I’m not going anywhere.” My voice breaks.
…
The next morning, she goes to her classes and afterwards I take her for a walk around Beacon Hill. We kiss on the bridge above the half-frozen river. It’s so cold that we seem to be the only two people out until suddenly, as we’re crossing the street, two dudes see me and do a double take. They rush over, staring at me.
I’m wearing dark glasses and a baseball cap, not to mention the biggest coat I own, but they somehow recognize me.
“Aren’t you Issy Woo?” one of them says, wide-eyed. The other is quickly whipping out his phone to snap photos of me and Eden.
“Omg, is this your girlfriend?”
I have instinctively put my body between the boys and Eden, hiding her behind me, but they are trying to look around me and get a good pic of her face.
I glance behind me, but I don’t even need to. My security guards have surrounded the boys within seconds, taking their phones and politely asking them to delete any footage they have of me. They get autographs in exchange, and then they beat it. I quickly get Eden back in the car. She is looks dazed.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumble, tying her seat belt, because she doesn’t seem able to move. “I’m so sorry. Are you ok? Eden, are you ok?”
She doesn’t answer me. The driver gets the car moving, and I peek at Eden’s face.
“Your lips are blue.”
“I’m fine, I’ll be—” she can’t catch her breath.
“What is it, what’s wrong?” Is she about to faint on me?
My heart beats in my throat. She fumbles in the pocket of her coat, but her hands are frozen.
“Let me do it,” I say.
“My pills, I need to take one.”
Understanding floods me. It’s the medicine for her heart.
“I got it,” I say.
I fumble with her coat, find the pill, help her swallow it. She looks calm and quiet, not moving much, even though her skin has turned completely white and bluish around the eyes and lips. My stomach rolls; I think I’m going to be sick.
“Eden?”
She doesn’t talk to me, just closes her eyes and concentrates on breathing. A lone tear drops down her cheek.
“Hey hey…” I wipe her skin with my finger. “Can I hug you?” She nods. I carefully wrap an arm around her waist and lift her onto my lap. She lays her head on my chest, and she looks so small, like wounded bird. I’m sure she can feel my heart beat like an out-of-whack drum against her ear.
It can’t be helping.
“It hurts,” she says, pressing a hand to her chest.
I can’t stand it any longer. I wrap my arm her around her hips and lift her away from me slightly, to search her face. It’s still deathly pale.
“Eden? Is this serious?”
“I just got scared,” she says, sounding out of breath. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m panicking here. Do I get you to a hospital? What do I do?”