Page 166 of Things I Wish I Said
No.
My head swims as I lean against the side of the aircraft while a frog lodges in my throat, blocking my airway.
I cough, a crackling bite to the sound.
My body shakes, unable to stop.
I claw at my throat, desperately pulling in air while my heart pounds ominously inside my chest.
I can’t breathe.
The floor spins, and I stumble.
Reaching out to steady myself, I grasp nothing but air.
The flight attendant appears in front of me, a blur of navy blue as I try one last time to suck in a breath and fail, and the ground comes up to greet me.
Chapter forty-one
RYLEIGH
I have no ideahow much time has passed since I lost consciousness on the airplane. When I wake, I’m on a gurney, being strapped down in the back of an ambulance.
The wail of a siren fills the silence as two EMTs work above me, taking my vitals. They ask me questions, but I’m too disoriented, too out of it to answer, and it’s not long before they’re ushering me into the emergency room.
Whatever they gave me in the ambulance to stop coughing and relax my chest worked. My lungs inflate, chest rising as the doctor checks me out. At some point, they administer an IV and more meds. One of them makes me sleepy, and I pass out.
The next time I wake, it’s to a nurse checking my blood pressure. This time, I’m more coherent. “What hospital am I in?” I can’t be in St. Francis. I know those walls too well.
“You’re at St. John’s in Charlotte.”
I frown, propping myself up. “Charlotte. But I was headedhome to—”
“They had to divert the flight.” The nurse pats my hand. “You passed out, sweetie. They had no choice but to make an emergency landing.”
I close my eyes, sinking back into my pillow.
Shit.
More medical bills, none of which will be covered by our shitty insurance. Worse of all, I’m not even home yet. As soon as my mother finds out, she’s going to totally freak.
I open my eyes, focusing back on the nurse’s kind face. “My mother. Does she know?”
The nurse nods. “They called her at the airport before you even arrived.”
“But how . . .?”
“Flight records.” She offers me a wan smile.
Right.
Charlotte is about a four-hour drive from us, so if they called her as soon as we landed, that means she’ll probably be here sooner rather than later.
Which means I’ll have to explain what the hell I was doing on a plane a day early without Grayson.
Damn it.
I clear my throat, noting the tightness in my chest as I ask, “What's wrong with me? I mean, was it the cancer or . . . something else?”
