Page 63 of Arden and the Girl Downstairs

She cuts me off.“Ifthey hurt her, they will have all of us to deal with. And by all of us, I don’t just mean us here. You’re forgetting about Chad, Isaac, Lochlan, and Caleb. They will all come to bat for your sister. Because god knows Isaac would love a chance to humiliate Logan on every social media platform and disband the LoLo dude bro gang.”

Arden

Ella heads into the kitchen while everyone packs up outside once the sun starts to set.

I help out the others, then follow after Ella, the gang trailing behind me.

I freeze at the door.

I’m not prepared for what I am seeing.

Ella’s doubled over in pain, hyperventilating and crying.

She’s pale, and it looks like she’s about to vomit on the floor.

I don’t know what to do.

This isn’t me.

I’m usually all action in a situation of need.

Chase and Yasmin rush past me when they see Ella.

Chase picks Ella up and moves her into the lounge room, Yasmin following right behind. Ally and Rhys come running in when they realise something is wrong.

I watch my friends as they tend to Ella, asking what she needs, how to help, and trying to comfort her. And I’m just stuck in place, stunned.

Rhys comes over to me and pats me on the back. “She needs you. You need to go to her.”

That’s enough to snap me out of whatever daze I’m in. It’s different when it’s the person you love in pain and suffering.

My instincts finally kick in, and I head over to my girl.

Yasmin moves out of the way so I can kneel beside her on the couch. She’s laid up in the fetal position. Ally places a bucket beside her—just in time—as she vomits.

Holding her hair back, I reassure her I’m here and will do anything she needs me to do. Her skin is clammy, and her breathing is erratic—she’s trying to breathe through the pain.

Next thing I know, Yasmin is placing a heat pack on her back and Rhys comes back into the room.

“I’ve called Caleb. He’s gonna do a house call.”

I turn back and look at my friends, who are standing beside the couch, watching us. In this moment, I am thankful that they’ve been here to help. Now it’s time to focus on my wife, who needs me.

“Ella, are you okay? What’s happening?” My whispered words are shaky; this is something I haven’t been through with her.

I know that she’s in pain often, and she suffers a lot, but since the surgery she’s been doing okay. Yes, she’s still healing, and it will not happen overnight, but she hasn’t had what she calls a massive flare up since before surgery. Well, since the day she didn’t show up for school.

Which is probably why I have no idea what to do.

Her soft voice echoes in the quiet room. “I don’t know what’s happening.” She moans, curling in on herself further. “I think a cyst might be rupturing.” Her sentences are short while she breathes through each wave of pain. “It’s hard to tell, though. I used to know what it felt like, but after the surgery it feels different. Everything hurts, the pain is inten—” Her sentence is cut short by an agonised groan.

“What can we do?” I feel utterly helpless.

I know what to do when Yasmin’s hypoglycaemic. I know what to do when Julia’s blood sugar is too high. But this is new to me.

“You’re doing it.” She grits her teeth and lets out an agonised noise that has my gut churning. After a couple of shallow breaths, she continues, “There’s not a lot we can do except wait it out.”

“Should we go to the hospital?” Logically, it would be the smartest option.

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