“I’m here to drop this off for Ms. Thompson. Can I leave it here?”

“You sure can. Anything you’d like me to say?”

“No, ma’am. Just don’t tilt it, or it might spill.” I pass her the bag holding an easy-on-the-stomach breakfast and leave. She seemed tipsy last night. It’s not easy to go to work early in general, let alone after drinking, with kids to top it off. I hope she likes it and she doesn’t hate me.

I get in my car and head to the cardiologist. It’s beenweeks since Dr. Diaz started looking into what’s going on with my heart. The first fainting episode happened about a month ago, followed by a HAE attack that left me in the hospital for a couple of days. Hiding it from Nellie was hard, but I didn’t want her to worry. Hiding it from Manny was impossible, so I might as well have told him. When I did, he almost turned into a guard dog. Then, it happened again. This time, it was worse. My potassium was low, which is a problem. We fixed that. I went out of town with Nellie, and when I got back, it happened again. Traveling was triggering the attacks, but the fainting has been so bizarre. Blood work, cables, studies, ultrasounds, and a wearable Holter monitor later, the doctors have concluded I was having irregular heartbeats, prolonged QT.

My team of specialists met and found the HAE meds were causing Long QT Syndrome. Today is my follow-up since stopping my oral medicine. Now, I’m working on getting my maintenance meds via shots. The day we were at the cabin, my doctor called to tell me I needed to stop taking the medication. She explained the medicine was most likely causing the Long QTs, but if I stopped taking it, my angioedema attacks would have a higher chance of happening again. I needed to get back into town immediately. I thought about telling Nellie, and looking back, I should have, but I didn’t want to have her worrying about me every day as she navigates this new season in her life. I didn’t want her to worry, not after she told me how out of control she felt. Unfortunately, I fear my heart may actually be worse without her.

She was so upset, and at first, I didn’t understand it completely. Why was it so hard for her to see it all? The big picture? I shut it all down. All my feelings for her. All the what ifs. It was easier to just try to push it away. But I couldn’t, no matter what I did. I love her. I’m in love with her. I’d rather go through hardships with her than a lifetime without her. By the time I realized it, I tried to talk to her, but it was too late. She put her walls back up. She closed the door. She threw awaythe key. She got defensive. She pushed me out. But she loves me.She’s afraid.She’s afraid.

The snapping back without letting me talk. The assumptions. The overall disregard of me showing her how much she means to me without her noticing. It means that she probably doesn’t know. The smartest person I know, but also…she can’t read social cues easily. She has never learned to read between the lines, and I couldn’t flat-out tell her. Or I wouldn’t.We’re both running away from the same thing.We’re like two melodies, equally powerful, perfectly matched, endlessly unyielding. Each time one of us introduced a new theme, the other countered with equal intensity. Instead of meshing, we ended up clashing. Instead of building toward a crescendo, our notes became opposites, never blending, leaving only discord and unresolved tension in the air. I need her just as much as she needs me, but neither of us were willing to bring the other one into the mess we think we are. We were vulnerable with each other with a ten foot wall between us. I tried to climb it, but her walls were slippery, and she took away the rope.

I ran.

It’s so much easier to let her assume. It’s so much easier to be her villain than hurt her. But I still hurt her in the end.

I showed her how much she means to me. Now, I need to tell her. I need to make sure she knows, not just assume she does. I need to win her back. I need to explain it all. I need to trust she can handle it. If it’s too much, at least we’ll know. Maybe I need to introduce her to Blair too, so she can see nothing is going on between us.

Dr. Diaz’s office is always quiet. She has a small private practice in this building where she sees patients twice a week, and then she works at the hospital downtown the rest of the week. I love her as a doctor because she’s a practitioner of both Western and Eastern medicine. She balances it all well.

“Dr. Diaz, café para usted.” I hand her the coffee I picked up when I grabbed Nellie’s, earning me an instant smile.

“We saidno caffeine for you until today,” she replies. She’s playing it safe, making sure everything is on track before letting me have caffeine and other things again.

“I haven’t touched coffee, making me sad. I wouldn’t be surprised if all your readings today looked like a coffee mug. My heart is missing caffeine.” I pout, and she rolls her eyes. She has never been able to resist my charm.

“No, no sadness today. Let’s see how the EKG goes. Go take your shirt off and lie down.”

I do as she says. The paper crinkles beneath me as I shift onto the exam table, the cushion cold against my bare back. My fingers twitch against my ribs as she fastens the electrodes to my chest, each one a cold, sticky press against my skin.

When I was first diagnosed with HAE, I hadn’t thought to mention the Lisinopril I took for my blood pressure. Turns out, it was making everything worse—fueling the swelling, turning minor flare ups into full-blown attacks. It took nearly a year to find a regimen that balanced both conditions. Now, we’re back at square one.

The EKG machine whirs to life, translating my heartbeat into peaks across the screen. I try to read the lines, but I never can, so I might as well just let her do her thing.

She doesn’t speak, fingers moving across the keyboard. Usually, she fills the silence with small talk unless she’s inputting and analyzing data. I like that she focuses so hard when needed. I like that no matter how hard I try, I can never read her face.

I swallow hard. “That bad?” I ask, probing.

“Not at all.” She finishes the test and removes everything from my chest, letting me put my shirt back on as she finishes typing the information she needs.

“You can go back to your routine, Gus, but nothing strenuous. Nothing that will spike your heart rate. Got it?”

I cock my eyebrow and smile at her, earning me a shake ofher head.

“You know what I mean. For our follow-up. How does three weeks sound?” she asks nonchalantly.

“You don’t want to see me again for three weeks. Dr. Diaz, you wound me,” I say, shamelessly flirting with her in the most platonic way.

“I would love to only see you twice a year, but we’re not there yet. Every three weeks for now. Keep eating the rainbow, keep your stress low, and take your meds. And please, slow down on the dangerous activities, at least for now. I don’t need you fainting while climbing a cliff.” I nod and leave after that.

If she only knew I haven’t been able to rock climb in weeks because of the same reason she’s asking me not to. Before, I was careless, but now, thinking about dying without getting to experience love, true love, has me in my head. I have no business doing dangerous shit if I’m afraid. Fear is the biggest paralyzer, and I’m damn terrified of spending another waking moment without Nellie. I can’t put more worries on her other than my health, so I’m trying my best to limit the stupid shit I do.

“Hola?1,” I answer the call hands-free on my SUV as I drive down the highway.

“I need you to come in and sign some papers. Lucia has been trying to call you, along with whatever secretary you have this week too. Where is your head at?” Manny asks on the speaker.

“Hello to you too, brother. Yes. I was actually on my way there now.”