One Less Problem Without You (29 page)

And before she could even think, he had fallen to the ground.

*   *   *

BEING IN THE
waiting room was as impersonal and uncomfortable as sitting at a metal fold-down table in an elementary school cafeteria. Why buy such cheap, squared-off chairs for people who would inevitably be waiting a long time—and very tensely—for news, good or bad? They might as well have been hanging from monkey bars for all the comfort those seats provided.

And why was there always a fuzzy station playing some sort of foreign sports on TV? Was that
cricket
? Every time Prinny had been in the hospital, she could find only three channels, all local news, seemingly all the time. Why did the waiting room seem to have the boring upper 900s of cable?

Was the cafeteria ever open? Not as if hospital cafeterias ever had food worth bragging about, but here the only thing available to eat or drink came out of a vending machine. It was deplorable. So far all she'd had was a Butterfinger and half a Diet Cherry Coke, and she felt completely disgusting.

If there was one place that should be filled with easy chairs, spa music, and chamomile tea—or, on second thought, maybe a full bar—it was a surgical waiting room.

Prinny and Diana had been sitting there for an hour already with absolutely no idea what was going on, no idea what they were even waiting to hear. To say nothing of the fact that they had no idea what to hope for.

That was a tough admission Prinny never wanted to make.

She'd done this. She knew she'd done this. She never fully knew her power before and now … now it was too late to harness it.

Finally a nurse came out and, after stopping at the desk for long enough for Prinny to think she wasn't part of Leif's team, looked in their direction and came over to them.

“Ms. Tiesman?”

They were both Ms. Tiesman, of course, but Prinny knew that the nurse meant Diana, and indicated her. “This is his wife,” she said, and then swallowed, a new and unexpected fear gripping her throat. Was this about to be some sort of
it
moment?

She wasn't feeling anything intuitively. The adrenaline was too distractingly high. All psychic energy was cut off, and she was running solely on nerves. She was too invested to see it omnisciently.

“What's going on with my husband?” Diana asked. “Is he going to live?”

“We're still working on figuring out exactly what's going on. Mr. Tiesman presented with an apparent arrhythmia—”

“I thought it was a heart attack,” Diana interrupted, and Prinny noticed her forehead knitted. Disappointment? Was arrhythmia worse or better?

The nurse, whose name tag identified her as Shannon C., was patient with the interruption. “The symptoms are very much the same: He had palpitations and was short of breath and diaphoretic.”

“What's diaphoretic?” Prinny asked.

“Sweaty,” Diana shot at her, then turned her attention back to the nurse. “So what is his condition now?”

Diana was absolutely panicked. Her voice was coming out in quick, breathy bursts. Nervousness radiated off her like heat waves. And talk about diaphoretic—a sheen of glistening sweat was appearing on her forehead. She was kneading her hands in her lap, too, scratching the skin next to her thumbnails. It was like watching someone in a full-on panic attack. Or, more specifically, Prinny
was
watching someone in a full-on panic attack.

Then, as she viewed the scenario with more distance, she started to pick up on something.

She literally believes her entire life depends on whether he lives or dies.

She believes her life lies in the balance of his. Whatever they say, that is her fate.

Prinny would not have expected this of Diana. She thought her sister-in-law had grown far wiser than this in the time since leaving Leif. After all, she'd
left
! She'd gotten fed up with terrible treatment and had washed her hands of him. She'd been doing so well, even! She'd done an amazing job cleaning up the little apartment over the shop, and she'd come up with the tea logo and had already made several dozen ready-to-go kits.

Prinny knew Diana wanted to be self-sufficient, and she believed she had become so.

The panic coming from Diana became stronger, pulsing at Prinny almost like a fist.

Was she strong only because she knew he was out there, ready to bail her out if things got too hard? That wasn't the person Prinny had thought she was.

Was she really so dependent on a man that she couldn't see a way to live without him?

“I'm sorry,” Diana said, taking a quick, deep breath. “This is all just so unexpected.”

The nurse smiled, clearly trying to reassure her. “We're waiting for the labs to come in, as well as X-ray and EKG results, but there is reason for optimism.”

“What is the treatment right now?” Diana persisted anxiously. “Are you doing anything at this time?”

“We're just trying to get him stabilized with some digoxin.” She must have felt Prinny's question coming on, as she added, “Which is the standard medical treatment for arrhythmia.”

Diana's shoulders slumped in apparent relief. “Thank goodness,” she murmured. “Hopefully that will do it.”

“What does it do?” Prinny asked, looking from Diana back to Shannon C. “That medicine, I mean. Is it a cure or just an emergency stopgap or what?”

She felt Diana shoot her a look and hoped she hadn't made things worse for her by prolonging the conversation.

“It helps the heart beat stronger and more regularly.” She gave Diana a gentle pat on the shoulder before saying, “If you don't have any other questions, I'm going to get back into the ward. I'll let you know the moment we know anything more.”

“Thank you,” Prinny said. She took Diana's hand in hers. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Diana blinked once, then turned her eyes toward Prinny. “This is all just so unbelievable.”

“I'll say.” The words “too good to be true” crossed her mind, and she silently chastised herself, ashamed to think that way in front of a woman who was so clearly devastated by the potential loss of the very person Prinny was having a hard time rooting for now.

But he'd asked for it. He'd asked for everything he was going through now. She didn't want to say it out loud, but if called to court, before God or anyone else, she'd have to say it. He'd asked for it and he got it.

This was his own damn fault.

“Do you want me to go try and hunt down some coffee?” Prinny asked her.

“No thanks.”

“Or maybe a soothing tea? Something without caffeine? It won't be as good as yours, but maybe it would help calm you down some.”

“No, it wouldn't be as good as mine,” Diana said, then gave a laugh. Then another. And suddenly she was giggling like the proverbial hyena, clutching her stomach and bending over, unable to catch her breath.

Prinny felt her own face grow hot. The last thing she wanted was to be the center of the attention this was bringing from the nurse's station. She looked guilty of mirth by association.

Then again, maybe they were used to this in her family. Gallows humor, Prinny's father had always called it. The phenomenon of laughing at a funeral or at some other wildly inappropriate place. There was probably even an official name for it. Some sort of clinical diagnosis.

But that didn't make it okay.

“Shhhh.” Prinny patted Diana, as if she were crying, not laughing. “It's going to be all right.”

“I'm sorry.” Diana wiped tears from beneath her eyes. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay, Di, I understand.”

“No, you don't. No one does. This is really messed up. I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“Nothing?”

Diana shook her head. “The strain of all of this is taking its toll on me.”

Prinny couldn't explain the relief she felt. “Of course it is! Who could expect anything else? This has been one hell of a night for you! Actually, a hell of a month. More!”

“I'll say.”

She started thinking about what Diana had been through. “In fact, maybe we should take you down to the ER to get checked out while we're here.”

Diana waved the notion away. “I'm fine.”

“It didn't sound like it when I got to the store.” She remembered the quartz scattered all around, and the broken geode. “And it sure as hell didn't look like it. How's your head?”

She reflexively lifted a hand to her head but remained resolute. “I need to stay here and find out how Leif is.”

“I understand that, but if he were to skip out of here tonight, I'd be worried about what's going to become of you.”

“Me? I don't think I'm the one in danger right now.”

“Maybe not at this exact moment, but listen.” She lowered her voice. “I don't mean to sound insensitive, but if Leif comes out of this like he does everything else and wants to come at you for some sort of vengeance, you really should have a hospital report.”

“Mm.” Diana nodded and thought about it. “I did take pictures. Bloody selfies.”

“Those can be faked.” That sounded harsh. “I mean, people could
accuse
you of faking them. I certainly don't think you did. It's just much better if you have an actual medical report.”

“I know that, but why bother? Why even waste the time? You know Leif. Do you really think I could win against him under any circumstances?”

“Not if you don't try.”

Diana dropped her head into her hands. “Then so be it. Let them think I faked them. I just can't face doing one more thing tonight. I don't even know how I'm going to get through the next ten minutes, much less
handle
things like medical reports and police reports.”

“Okay, I understand.” Prinny decided it was best not to push the matter, no matter how strongly she felt Diana was making a mistake. “I'm going to go try to find something to eat other than the crap in these vending machines. I'll be right back. Just let me know if anything happens in the meantime.”

“I will.” Diana nodded.

“Oh God, I should have asked—how are
you
doing with this?”

“Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Really, don't worry.”

“I will.” Prinny gave a short laugh, then left the waiting room and stepped onto the wide elevator just as someone else was stepping off. The doors closed, and it smelled like stale coffee inside. Stale coffee and sadness. Apart from the maternity ward, not a lot of really happy things happened in the hospital. Only positive relief after potential negatives.

As soon as the doors opened to the lobby, damp, hot air rushed over her. The lobby doors to the outside were open, and the tinny sound of pouring rain was louder than anything else.

That's when she saw Alex.

He was coming in from the rain, like a movie character, holding a newspaper over his head. As soon as he was in, he shook it off, threw it in the trash, and swatted the rain off his jacket.

Then he looked up and met her eyes.

There weren't even words for what that one look did to her whole physiology. Heart pounding, chest tightening, her breath shallow, she had every symptom in the book.

Which still didn't explain where she got the gall to run over to him and throw her arms around him.

Luckily, he welcomed her, pulling her into a strong embrace. For a long moment they stood there, holding each other, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. She felt her soul drain out of her and into him, then back again. This was
it,
she knew this was
it,
she'd always known.

Now, with this first touch, she had no doubt. The bliss of his touch was indescribable.

Even though they were right in the middle of a public hospital lobby, this felt, in a way, like the most intimate thing she'd ever experienced.

“Why are you here?” she asked against his shoulder. “Please tell me this isn't a horrible coincidence.”

“I heard about Leif,” he said. “I thought you could use some moral support. And maybe a lawyer.”

She drew back and looked at him. “Moral support, yes. But a lawyer?”

“I'm kidding,” he said, then removed his hands from her shoulders. “Gallows humor, I apologize.”

“Gallows…” She smiled faintly. What a fool she was to take even that small expression that had just made her think of her father as a sign that Alex was the One for her. Especially at a time like this. “No, I don't think I need a lawyer, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime. So what's going on up there?”

“They think it's something called arrhythmia, which they don't sound all that worried about, and they're treating it with some sort of medicine that sounds like it should take care of it.”

“So he will live to torment you another day?”

She gave a nod. “Indeed he will. He always will. I think we know by now that he's immortal, don't we?”

Alex pressed his lips together in a grim line and didn't comment further.

“I was just on my way to find some alternative to the vending machines.”

“Want to grab a bite of actual food?” he asked. “There's a diner across the street. They might at least have something
resembling
real food, right?”

She paused. How was it that sometimes things could be so good and so bad all at once?

“That sounds perfect.”

They walked side by side through the rain—though it had lightened to a drizzle now; occasionally their arms bumped, and one or the other of them would draw back as if they had done something wildly inappropriate. There was a palpable tension between them that seemed so obvious that she almost acknowledged it.

She wanted to hold his hand. Such a silly, small desire, but she wanted to hold his hand.