Page 90 of Seven of Hearts

Reluctantly, she offered her left hand. I tore into the alcohol swab and gently cleaned the pad of her finger.

“Rest your head on my shoulder,” I said as I inserted the test strip into the blood glucose monitor and loaded the lancet. “Deep breaths. Just close your eyes and relax.”

“Easier said than done,” she grumbled into my neck.

“Just try for me,” I said as I braced her finger to keep it still.

Leah tensed when she felt the lancet brush against her skin.

“Just breathe. Keep your eyes closed. It’s been a long day and I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Are you trying to hypnotize me?” she retorted.

I chuckled. “Is it working?”

“No. You’re a terrible hypnotist?—”

I pressed the release button on the lancet and pricked her finger as soon as she was distracted. Leah let out a squeak and pressed her forehead into my shoulder.

“You’re doing great,” I said as I squeezed her finger and held the end of the test strip against the droplet of blood pearling on her finger. “Don’t look,” I said when enough blood had drawn up for the glucose meter to start registering it.

I set the meter on the table, grabbed a tissue, and pressed it to her finger. “You did great,” I said as I rubbed her back.

Feeling Leah cling to me was...Shit. It wasn’t just nice or comforting. It was everything.

She was trusting me. Relying on me. It made me feel needed. But more than that, it made me feel wanted.

Leah sat up and let out a shaky breath as she dabbed her finger. I grabbed the little circle Band-Aid from the table and pressed it to the pad of her finger.

She held it out to me. “You have to kiss it and make it better.”

I smirked and went for her lips instead. “Better?”

She nodded as the glucose meter finished testing the strip. We both glanced at the reading.

Leah’s face fell as she glanced from the meter to the printed chart the doctor had given us that detailed what each number and range meant. “It’s high.”

“We knew it was going to be high,” I said gently as I tucked her hair behind her ear. “And now we’re going to do what we have to do to manage it.”

She eyed the insulin pen.

“You can do this, honeybee,” I said as I went through all the safety checks, even though the pharmacist had just done it a few hours ago when she demonstrated how it worked, and loaded us up with all the supplies and accessories Leah would need.

I removed the cap, fitted the new needle in the tip, checked the dose, and pushed the injection button until a bead of clear liquid appeared at the head of the needle.

“Do you want it in your arm or your thigh?” I asked.

“Neither,” she grumbled. “But I guess my arm today. We have to rotate injection sites anyway. We’ll make our way around eventually.”

Leah shimmied one arm out of her sweater and rested her forearm on top of her bump, giving me access to her bicep.

“Is he kicking right now?” I asked as I cleaned her arm with another alcohol wipe.

Leah laid her head back on my shoulder and nodded. “Mhmm. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah,” I said as I grabbed the insulin pen. “Deep breaths for me. Close your eyes.”

The baby chose that moment to tumble hard against her belly button.

---