Page 74 of Misery and Ecstasy

“Absofuckinglutely not. I can’t even believe…” Draven looks between me and the screen of my phone. “You have my permission to tell her that if she breathes even a word of this to my mother, I’ll never speak to her again for as long as I live.AndI’ll leak those pictures from senior year spring break all over the internet. And you can phrase it in whatever asshole speak you want. Get creative—she deserves it for even asking.”

Apparently, my reaction forced him into a state of shock because he doesn’t move for a second. He doesn’t even give me the look he normally does that tells me I should try to be nicer to my mother.

“I’ll just tell herno … thank … you.” He types the words out in a reply to her as he says them out loud to me.

“If I had the ability to roll my eyes at you right now, I would.” Damn it. I told myself I’d be nice to him. “I didn’t mean that. You did the right thing. Thank you.”

He caresses my shoulder as he looks down at me.

“Listen, I just… I have no chance of this headache ever going away if she’s around. I promise, I’ll tell her I was here, but not until I’m feeling better, okay?”

“Deal.” He returns to his chair and picks it up, carrying it to the side of my bed before taking a seat. Reaching through the bars of my hospital bed, he grips my hand then rubs his thumb across the back of it.

Head throbbing, I’m grateful that we don’t speak until the doctor comes in about thirty minutes later. It’s exactly what I needed—to be able to lay quietly with my eyes closed, not having to think or speak or anything else.

“Ms. Caraway, hi. I’m Dr. Bennett.” A man in a white jacket with glasses and an uninterested tone of voice comes in with Valerie in tow. “You’re here due to some extended migraine pain?”

It sounds so miniscule when he says it, and I feel like an idiot who has blown my pain out of proportion.

Apparently, the question was rhetorical because he continues without letting me respond. “Your vitals are good, and all the lab work came back normal.”

“Will you do a brain scan next?” Draven asks on my behalf.

I feel like an idiot for not considering it first, but again, it makes me feel like a hypochondriac, thinking I’d need one.

“No. If your vitals or bloodwork came back with anything even mildly alarming, we’d go ahead. At this time, we’ll move forward with something called a migraine cocktail.”

“What the hell is a migraine cocktail?” Draven looks at the doctor like he doesn’t trust that he actually went to medical school.

“Draven, please.” He rolls his eyes when I scold him, and I don’t miss the smirk Valerie tries to hide.

“It’s basically a mixed drink consisting of aspirin, anti-nausea medication, steroids, magnesium, and saline. Valerie will get you hooked up to an IV, and you’ll be out of here in no time. I’ll also give you a prescription you can take at home as needed.”

“Thank you.”

Both the doctor and Valerie leave, and Draven stews in his chair while we wait for Valerie to come back with the migraine cocktail the doctor ordered.

* * *

“Hey, what do you know about this quack?” Draven questions Valerie as she sets up my IV. “Why isn’t he ordering a scan?”

“Stop distracting her while she’s poking holes in me, Draven. I’m sure the doctor knows what he’s talking about.”

“How long have you guys been together? You bicker like you’ve been married for sixty years.” Draven scrunches his face at Valerie, ignoring her question as I laugh in my head. “Dr. Bennett is very knowledgeable. But I will say, if you don’t start feeling better in a couple days, come on back, and make it clear that you want a scan. You can never be too careful with your health.”

After she finishes inserting the IV and administers all of the medication into the line, she leaves, letting us know she’ll be back when the bag is empty. I close my eyes again, and Draven is silent until his phone starts ringing.

“Hey, Atty.”

“All right, I guess? This quack doctor has her on an IV with enough shit in it to make her fucking overdose.”

Cracking open my eyes again, I grimace at him, but Draven waves me off.

“Yeah, she’ll be able to leave as soon as this bag is kicked.”

It takes a second for the fact that Atticus has called to see how I’m doing to hit me, and I smile weakly.

“No, I’m staying at her house tonight. How was the ride?”

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