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Bright, hopeful eyes that still held traces of the vibrant woman I remembered from before all this began. A smile—God, a genuine smile that made my heart stutter—and the way her body unconsciously leaned toward mine, as if some invisible thread kept trying to pull us closer together. It was only then that I recalled the text I’d sent her, and I silently cursed myself for not warning her this was bad news. For letting her walk in here, carrying that beautiful, fragile hope.
After seeing that smile on her face, this was harder to tell her than any diagnosis because I was the one that got her hopes up. I made her get back into the fighting ring. And now it was my glove that was about to knock her out.
Ouch
“Oh my GOD, Blake. Don’t do that to me!” “Do what?”
His brow furrowed in that adorably confused way that made him look more like a puzzled golden retriever than the brilliant doctor I knew him to be. The one who probably hadn’t scored below a 98% since kindergarten. “Look like you’re about to tell me I’m dying!”
“This is bad news, Tessa.”
Without thinking—and that was probably good because if I’d thought about it, I never would have done it—I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Blake froze, and a current of warm electricity snaked through my body at the feel of his skin against my lips. He smelled like coffee and something woodsy and expensive, and for one dangerous moment, I wondered if he’d taste the same way. It was a thought I had to actively push aside to stay focused.
“I haven’t just felt sick this past year; I let myself feel depressed over this.” “People don’t let themselves feel depressed, Tessa.”
His voice softened, and something in it made me look up at him. Bad idea. He was giving me that look—the one that made me feel like I was the only person in his world.
“That’s not how depression works; it’s not a choice. You’re going throu...
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and it would take a toll on anyone. Even someone as strong ...
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“You’ve cried yourself to sleep?” “So many times that I lost count,”
“But the point is, this whole time, I’ve been feeling sorry for myself; I’ve been taking all the other moments of my life for granted. I’m still here. And, sure, my body doesn’t feel like the epitome of health, but think of all the people hooked up to ventilators who’d wish to be in my shoes. Or people fighting terminal illnesses, or facing atrocities around the world, or not here anymore. They’d all wish they could be in my shoes, Blake.” “Stop doing that.”
“Stop telling yourself that your suffering needs to be justified by someone else’s pain.” “This is the universe shaking my shoulders and making me see how much I still have, not just what I’ve lost.”
“I needed something to snap me out of my funk, and this was it!”
“I’m not done with this, Tessa.”
“I know.” “I want to run more tests.” “Figured as much.” “Talk to me about vomiting today.”
“In what way? You want to know what c...
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“There is nothing funny about this.” “Disagree. I shall find the humor in this from now on...
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“There’s one variable we haven’t ruled out yet.” “Only one?”
“I’d like to hire a professional environmental inspection company,”
“What, pray tell, does a professional environmental inspection company do? By the way, they could seriously use a marketing person to help them shorten that name.” “Perform a visual inspection of the property, looking for any ...
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“Could be longer, could be sooner. Depends on how backlogged the labs are.” “And after that?” “After that, we’ll know if your environment is causing your health problems.”
“But? Because I definitely heard a big but in your voice, Blake.”
“They can’t squeeze us in for a couple of more weeks.” “Which puts us at three and a half weeks until we find out if this ...
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“Will it influence if you go through with it?” “Unless the company is willing to take an IOU on a Post-it Note?”
“Yes. It might influence whether I can do it.” “Then let me worry about it.”
“Absolutely not. I’m not having you swoop in and fund solutions to my problems, Blake. How much?” “It...
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“I never gave you a birthday gift this year.” “Our birthday gifts a...
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“I know this is well more than $30, so how much is it?” “I can loan you the money ...
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“I don’t borrow money from people. You know that.”
“Is it $300?”
“You need to get better.” His voice was thick with frustration and something else that made my chest tight. Fear. Blake Morrison was afraid for me.
“But at least my medical bills are partially covered by insurance. This wouldn’t be covered by insurance, right? Unless you can somehow convince them that my townhouse is actually a very large, very expensive medical device?”
“I have to think about it.” “Tessa …”
And you’ll notice that list got smaller and smaller as time went on. I’ve kept track of everything, trying to figure out what might be making me sick, and I have carved out everything I possibly can. But I cannot carve out having a roof over my head, so unless you have a better option—” “Move in with me.”
Oh my god.
“Tessa—” “Look, I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but this is going too far.”
“My place has been tested and is clean of any environmental factors that could be making you sick. Diagnosing what’s going on with you is like a science experiment. We need to remove as many variables as possible.”
“Live in a bubble? Breathe only fresh oxygen out of a tank?” “That’s not fair.” “No, none of this is fair,”
“But I get to decide how much this impacts my life from this point forward. I am not moving out of my place, and nothing will make me change my mind.” As it turned out, “nothing” was going to happen in forty-eight hours. And it would change everything.
“And you’ll present the case at Grand Rounds.” Grand Rounds was an event where medical cases were presented to hospital leadership, attendings, and peers. It was rare for interns to get this chance. Rarer still for them to be invited.
Me: Stop. Whatever you’re about to ask, the answer is no. And get tested. Again.
I am cackling
Yes. My environment was suspect, and I couldn’t wait weeks to find out if it was making me sick. Which left me with exactly one option. With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone and fired off a text to Blake. Me: That offer to live with you still on the table?
Omg
“Let’s skip the part where you thank me profusely and tell me how guilty you feel for ‘invading my space’ and promise to be a ghost.”
“How did you—” “Know exactly what you were about to say?”
“Because you’d rather perform heart surgery on yourself, using a rusty spoon, than accept help from anyone. You’re inf...
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“Some things never change.” “You’re ...
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“At least I never moved next door to a stalker.” “My neighbor isn’t ...
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“I saw how he looked at you, Cupcake. And I d...
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“So,” he said, his casual tone a stark contrast to the tension crackling between us, “should we do a panty count to see how many your neighbor snatched, or should we get on with the tour?”
“I’ll only stay here on one condition.”
