Page 23 of Serenity

ChapterTen

Dillon

Idrove even fasterto the hospital than I had from my parents’ house to ours just an hour earlier. When we got there, I pulled up in front of the Emergency Room doors and jumped out ofmycar.

“Hey, you can’t park there!” one of the security guardsyelled.

“She’s a transplant patient, and her doctor wants her in there as soon as possible.” He reached up reflexively when I tossed my key fob his way as I rounded the vehicle. “Feel free to have it towed if youneedto.”

I yanked open the passenger side door and lifted Faith out to set her into the wheelchair the security guard rolled up. “Thanks,man.”

“No problem.” His gaze slid to Faith, and his eyes turned sad. “Lost my wife in a car accident. She was a donor. Saved eight lives. I’d hate to think I put one of them at risk because of something as stupid as parking a car. I’ll take care of it for you and make sure you get the key backlater.”

The world really was small and full of strangecoincidences.

“Thanks,” I repeated as I hurried through the doors. I rolled Faith up to the front desk, and a nurse rushed around to us when I gave them herinformation.

“Dr. Stewart’s office called ahead to let us know you were coming in. Let’s get Faith to an exam room so we can draw some blood and run sometests.”

I followed her through a set of doors and down a long hallway to a small room. We got Faith situated on the exam table, and the nurse hooked her up to a machine to take her vitals before someone else came in to draw her blood. Faith fell asleep while we waited, and I sat in a chair next to her and held her hand. About half an hour later, a doctorcamein.

“How bad is it, Dr. Stewart?” Faith murmured sleepily after she jerked awake at the sound of the door closingbehindhim.

“It isn’t great,” he sighed before his attention shifted to me and he held a hand out. “I’m Faith’s doctor, andyouare?”

“Dillon Montgomery, herboyfriend.”

“Boyfriend, eh?” Dr. Stewart’s green eyes filled with humor as he turned to look at Faith. “You didn’t mention a boyfriend at your last appointment, and the nurses didn’t say anything. Have you been keeping secretsfromus?”

Faith’s cheeks filled with a splash of light pink color. “It was still a newish thingbackthen.”

“And now?” His gaze darted between us. “Is it serious? Because if not, you may want to have Dillon step out for a moment while I talktoyou.”

“No way. I’m not going anywhere,” Isnapped.

“Dillon stays, Dr. Stewart.” Faith squeezed my hand. “And I need to update my HIPPA paperwork so you’re authorized to disclose any and all medical informationtohim.”

“That’s one heck of an answer to my question. I’ll make sure you get a new form to sign while you’reupstairs.”

“Upstairs?” Iechoed.

“Yes, I’m admittingFaith.”

Her grip on me tightened even more, to the point where it felt like she was going to break my hand. But I didn’t complain. I was too focused on the implications of what the doctor had just told us. “Does that mean she’s going to lose thekidney?”

“Not necessarily.” Dr. Stewart shook his head. “Ten to twenty percent of patients will experience at least one episode of rejection. Most are mild and easily treated by making adjustments to their immunosuppression medication dosages. Treatment of rejection usually requires a few days of hospitalization, so this is just the standard of treatment. It doesn’t mean we’re at the worst case scenariopointyet.”

“Thank fuck,” Ibreathed.

“It doesn’t mean we’re out of the woods yet either.” Dr. Stewart looked at the tablet in his hand and swiped at the screen. “I don’t like the look of your vitals, but we’re still waiting on the lab to get the results of your bloodwork back. After we get you admitted, I’m going to run some more tests to determine if a biopsy isnecessary.”

Faith looked as devastated as I felt, with tears streaming down her cheeks as she shook her head. “I really fucked up,didn’tI?”

“The nurse noted on your chart that you missed a couple of doses of your immunosuppression meds within the last few days?” Dr. Stewartasked.

“Yes, I think so. We did a count, and I have more pills than I shouldremaining.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.” His gaze darted between us again. “Are you under more stress thanusual?”

---