Page 123 of Love Me

When the monitor’s alarm starts to go off on both Monique’s watch and my phone, my heart begins to beat out of my damn chest.

It’s the signal that her insulin numbers are dangerously low. Even after another injection of insulin, her numbers continue to drop.

“It’s time to go to the hospital,” I finally say.

Monique’s shoulders slump. The tears in her eyes tear at my soul. She parts her lips, and instinctively, I know it’s going to be to tell me that she doesn’t feel that sick. I’m aware that she knows her body better than I do but those numbers scare the hell out of me.

Even if I have to carry her kicking and screaming, she’s going to the hospital.

“It’s been hours,” I say, cutting off whatever she’s about to say. “You’ve done all that you can, and it’s not working,” I tell her this at the same time I call for an ambulance. It will be quicker than driving. Plus, if something happens, the paramedics are better equipped to handle it than I would be.

I also call the front desk of the hotel to alert them of the situation. Within a minute, there’s a hotel employee in our suite assisting us. While Monique continues to tell me she doesn’t feel that ill, I know it’s more for me than it is for her.

I can see the fear in her eyes.

“It’s going to be fine,” I tell her as the medics load her onto the gurney.

I hate how fucking helpless I feel in this moment. My sole purpose is to protect her, but I can’t. Not when I don’t even know what the problem is. And not when the threat is from her own body.

The only thing I can do is hold her hand. Even as the paramedics insist that I need to back away from her so they can do their job, I stay close.

“I’m going with you,” I tell one of the medics when he tries to close the ambulance’s doors in my face. Like hell is she going anywhere by herself.

All I can think about is how she’s putting on a brave face for me. I know she is. The smile on her face doesn’t reach those beautiful brown eyes that I love staring into. The dimple that pops out when she smiles for me is nowhere to be found.

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” she says, looking at me as we ride to the hospital. “I’ve done everything right. I eat when I’m supposed to and don’t when I’m not. I keep a close eye on my numbers and still …” She presses her head back against the gurney.

“This isn’t your fault,” I tell her. “You know that. We’re going to find out what’s wrong and get it fixed. We’ll be back at the hotel before morning,” I assure.

I don’t know if what I’m telling her is true. Yet when she looks at me with that uncertainty and doubt in her eyes, my entire being wants nothing more than to reassure that everything will be okay.

It takes only a handful of minutes for us to arrive at the hospital.

“Sir, you’re going to have to remain out here,” the ER doctor says, extending his arm as if he intends to stop me from following the love of my life.

“Like hell,” I respond between clenched teeth.

“You can’t—”

“Can he come?” Monique asks, lifting her head to see me. “Please?” she begs the doctor.

The sound of her begging causes me to clench my hands into fists.

I look over at the doctor. “My name is Diego Townsend,” I place emphasis on my last name. “My grandfather, Robert Townsend, is friends with Scott Wolfe who’s on the board of directors of this hospital. I don’t mind giving Scott a call to ask him if it’s okay if I can accompany my wife throughout her stay.”

I stare him in the eye and wait for his response. The entire time I have to remind myself that he’s the doctor whose job it is to take care of Monique. He won’t be able to do that if I break his fucking nose.

I’ll keep my hands off of him but I’m not above throwing the weight of my last name around. Not when it comes to her.

“O-Okay, Mr. Townsend,” he says, his tone sounding vastly different than it did a minute ago.

“Diego is fine,” I tell him. “Just take care of my wife.” I don’t even think twice about calling Monique my wife. Sometime along the last few months I silently made the decision that she’s mine forever.

Hell, I probably knew this all along. This was my intention with the deal we made. I never had any plans to give her up after three months.

“Let’s run some tests,” the doctor says. He runs down a litany of tests to the nurse to start running on Monique after checking the stats that the paramedics give him.

Monique is rolled into a separate room in the emergency department. We’re secluded from the main area and there’s no waiting involved, as they start running tests on her immediately.