“I love you so much, babe.” Paige’s words made me rock into her even harder. I wanted to claim her with everything I had. I could never get enough, or get deep enough inside.
“I love you so fucking much. Paige, please, I want you to . . . be my . . .” Shit, not again. How many times did I have to bite my lip and look away? I needed to propose soon before I made an ass of myself.
“I’ll do anything, be anything. What do you want, babe?”
“Fuck! Paige, I can’t . . . shit . . .” I felt her pulse around me as I came hard inside her. Balls deep inside my girlfriend was not the way I wanted to ask her to marry me, but my mind reeled when she looked like she would say yes. I smoothed her matted hair off her forehead and kissed her lips.
“I hate when you come home late, but if you do that every night I could try to get used to it.” I kissed her again as she laughed against my lips.
“So . . .” I settled on my back and cuddled Paige into my chest. “I didn’t get bit, I must be missing a step—Ow!”
Paige had sunk her teeth into my bicep.
“Better?” She kissed my chest and gazed up at me.
I ran my fingers through her hair and tried not to think about how much weight I just noticed she lost. “Much. You promised you’d claim me, remember?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Is there a reason I need to claim you?” She pushed off my chest and glared. The hard look in her eyes made me laugh.
“You are so fucking hot when you’re possessive.” I wrapped my arms around her and rolled over so I was on top of her.
“You should know, there is no one else in this world for me. Ever. Do you have any idea how much I love you? And how much I worry about you? When is your doctor’s appointment? Are you sure your mom can go with you?”
“The appointment is Thursday. She’s a specialist, so I hope this one has a clue what she’s talking about. I think all the Advil for the joint pain is burning a hole in my stomach. It’s been hard to eat lately. Sucks to be in pain and be hungry all the time.” Paige crinkled her nose and looked away. That explained why I could feel the grooves of Paige’s ribs. For months she’d felt worse and worse, and no doctor had a fucking clue as to why.
“Wendy’s may be open still. I can get you a Frosty if you want one.”
Paige wrapped her arms around my neck.
“And you’d get me one, too, if I said yes, you crazy nut.”
I kissed her lips while I stroked her cheeks with my thumbs.
“I’m crazy about you. Do you have to go in to the office tomorrow? I told the guys I’d go with them on that new office building job so I’ll be back early. Maybe I’ll come straight here, we can get to bed extra early . . .” I wiggled my eyebrows and she giggled.
“Bring home a Frosty and you have yourself a deal.” She gave me a peck on the lips and dragged her nails up and down my back. There was that word again. Home.
“Anything for you, Daisy.” I would do anything for her. But the one thing I wanted to do the most was the one thing I couldn’t do—figure out what the hell was wrong, and make her better.
“You’ve certainly had a lot of tests over the past few months.” Dr. Stephens, the rheumatologist that Dr. Ramirez referred me to, perused my file as I sat on her examining table. My grandmother used to see a rheumatologist for her arthritis, so I assumed Dr. Ramirez sent me here because of the joint pain. No shit, Sherlock. I was so over doctors, tests and feeling like shit without anyone offering a diagnosis.
My mother hadn’t been able to come with me as planned, or I’m sure those would have been her choice of words. Evan wanted to come, but he couldn’t leave work without Jessica in the office today. It was just as well. The last thing I needed was those two worrywarts adding to my own anxiety, which was now at its peak. Dr. Stephens was eerily silent but grimaced as her manicured hand flipped through my results.
“So, do you see anything? Because it’s been so frustrating that all I’ve been told so far is that I have a high level of inflammation and to rest. I’ve been resting for months and I’m over it.”
Dr. Stephens slowly nodded as she stood and came over to me. The paper on the table rustled as I squirmed. I waited impatiently for her to just spit out what she was thinking.
“And this all started when you got pneumonia in October?” She palpated the glands in my neck and lifted my hands to examine my fingers. They were sore to the touch, along with the rest of my joints.
“Yes.” I nodded. “I was sick as a dog for weeks and never seemed to get better. My cough still comes and goes and I need an inhaler sometimes. The worst of it is the fatigue and the joint pain. I actually feel like I have the flu twenty four-seven. Please tell me you know what this is. I’m ready to spit nails and I’m sick of being a goddamn pin cushion. Sorry, I shouldn’t vent at you.”
She put her hand on my shoulder and shook her head. “Please don’t be sorry. You’ve been through a lot. Did you have any traumatic events over the past year, any stressors that seemed to make you even sicker?” Dr. Stephens sat back at her desk and typed what looked like notes into her computer.
“My cousin died almost a month ago. We were very close.” I lowered my gaze and turned away, but I was pleasantly surprised I managed to say that without my voice breaking.
“I’m very sorry for your loss. Did your symptoms get worse after that?”
I let out a long sigh. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but yes I think so. The joint pain got worse and the fatigue became unbearable. The night he died, I had a high fever. I’ve been having them on and off but never over 101.”
“And you said you lost weight. Do you have trouble eating?”
I nodded again. “Sometimes it feels as if the food won’t go down. I assumed all the Advil I take burnt a hole in my stomach.” I laughed humorlessly. When did I go from being a gym rat who worked happily all day to a sickly hot mess?
“Can you open your mouth so I can get a look?” Her flashlight pen blinded me as she examined my throat.
“Just what I figured. Okay, Paige. There are still a few tests that I need to take, but I’m ninety eight percent sure I know what’s going on. I think you have systemic lupus.”
“Lupus? I . . . don’t know what that is. The only time I’ve ever heard about it was when I used to watch House.”
Dr. Stephens laughed and nodded. “Yes, that show was great for awareness. We’ve had a few patients ask to get tested because of an episode. It is a disease that is found by process of elimination more or less——why Dr. House would suggest it when they couldn’t find anything else. To put it in simple terms, your immune system is seeing your organs as an infection, and is attacking them as such.”
My head spun as she went over the symptoms and treatment, all of which sounded awful. This thing that had taken over my life finally had a name. I felt an odd combination of relief and terror as she handed me pamphlets to look over. “If this is what I have, why hasn’t anyone found it yet? It’s been months, Dr. Stephens.”
She gazed at me with a sad smile. “Lupus manifests itself in a lot of different ways—and frequently gets missed. I need to run a couple of more blood tests, but only as confirmation, and a few tests to see what organs may be affected. I know this is a lot to comprehend right now. Do you have any questions?”
“Right now, just one. Can I die from this?” My mind flashed to my mother and Evan, and watching Ellie and my aunt and uncle drown in their sorrow since we lost Jack. I couldn’t go back to them and announce I was dying, too. On top of that, I was scared out of my mind. I wished I had brought someone with me today. This was a lot to take in alone.