Page 24 of Single Mom's Secret Diary
The usually cold room can’t stave off the sweat gathering along the back of my neck, down my spine. My clothes are too tight. They’re creating too many barriers between us.
Avery hovers just out of reach, looking down at me like she canseeme. And I don’t put her off. She doesn’t steer me, doesn’t deal with me. She enjoys me. Or at least, she seems to.
Her grip loosens, she blinks, and alarm pierces through the fog of sexual tension that’s built between us.
Pallor replaces the pink from her cheeks. Her hand flutters down to her stomach.
“Avery?”
She drops, and I’m almost not fast enough to catch her. I save her head from hitting the cement and cradle her as her eyes roll back. Clanging between my ears has me reaching up on instinct to hit the emergency button under the table.
If it’s something she ingested, we should get it out of her, but I can’t do that with her unconscious. I need to wake her up. Keep her that way.
I pat her face as gently as I can manage. It still feels too hard, but she doesn’t stir.
“Avery? Avery, come on. Wake back up for me. Come on.Avery.” I turn her to her side, wishing I’d been trained for this. But panic takes complete hold. “Help.Help!”
The buzzing of the alarm falls into the background.
This can’t be happening. I should get her in my arms and carry her out to help.
The lab door bursts open, and Ezra is kneeling beside us. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I made something just for her.” And I kept them in my office. Few had access to my things. Only people I trust, so that means I must have messed something up.
Avery jerks in my grip, and the shaking takes over her completely. She’s seizing.
I’m holding her head to keep it from slamming, and Ezra’s on the phone.
It takes too long for the paramedics to arrive, but once they do, everything seems to happen at once.
I stalk out of the building after her, letting Ezra take over. They’ve covered Avery’s mouth with an oxygen mask. Her eyes flutter a few times, but she doesn’t wake.
A crowd of people have gathered, and I can’t snap out of my tunnel vision. If only my undivided attention could revive her.
Hollow emptiness fills the place my heart once existed as they load her into the back of the ambulance. What have I done?
13
Ezra
Iforget how small Avery is until they strap her to that stretcher. The ambulance swallows her up, and a paramedic asks me quietly, “Who’s coming with her?”
I want to go, but it’s smarter to have Wyatt ride with her. He’s got the chocolates in his grip like they’re the answer to her salvation, and they could be. I grab his shoulder, and he pulls out of his stupor. “I need you to go with her. Help them figure out what happened. Make sure you keep them focused.”
Not that I don’t trust the paramedics or doctors, but it gives Wyatt a purpose to ground him. I can see the changes in his body language—protective and focused. He’ll make sure she’s safe.
I have phone calls to make, like the one to her father to tell him his daughter is on her way to the hospital. It’s a terrible duty to have, but I can’t pawn it off on anyone else. It’s my responsibility.
But that doesn’t mean I can stay behind. My phone is open as I jog to my Lexus.
I can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse that I get Dominick Caruso’s voicemail. After the beep, I tell him, “Mr. Caruso. This is Ezra Nguyen, Avery’s boss. We’ve had an incident, and an ambulance is taking her to the hospital. Please call me back so I can provide you with more details.”
And I’m behind the wheel, racing after the ambulance, my mind spinning on the unknowns of what’s happened, but also all of the possible ways I could lose Avery again.
When I make it to the hospital, I find Wyatt pacing the hallway beside the ER. He’s beside himself, guilt written all over him. He runs a hand down his face, through his hair. His arms fold and unfold, and he takes jagged steps.
“Hey.” I grab his arm and give him a little shake, making him stop in his tracks. Wyatt’s eyes focus on me. “Where is she? What’s going on?”
